#also I THOUGHT I POSTED THIS HOURS AGO ITS BEEN IN DRAFTS

[dwter]

tourism update: my singular ankle has been torn to shreds (has one blister) by my stupid boot But mini photo dump of the singular activity i did today also a wasp that is in my room rn Yay 😊

[that-sarcastic-writer]

A Love Game

DI!Single!Dad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You hear a glimpse of Leon's relationship with his daughter. And later he makes you a proposal you just can't refuse

Warnings: mild sexual content, still minors dni, brief phone sex, allusions to sex, Leon has a mouth on his as always, bit of soft!dom leon, mostly Leon being a soft dad on this one, foul language (as always), no use of y/n

WC: 3k

A/N: so I'm totally in love with this dynamic! And yalls support was insane. I literally wrote two separate drafts of a continuation of these two and whichever I finished first was gonna be posted, so the light smut one won bc I'm tired atm and didn't feel like sitting in front of my computer for 6 hours🙃 so this short part will have a second part to it with full spicy time. And another standalone part with these two (coffee and other things) having some more spicy time is also in the works, so stay tuned. Besitos <3

Universe Masterlist

Leon blinked slowly, his eyes now starting to grow sore from staring at the bright computer screen for so long. But he just hadn't had time to finish this stupid report. Sure, he has had two whole days to get it done, but with a tiny human clinging to his arm every waking minute, it was a bit more complicated than he thought. But he couldn't possibly ignore his little girl when he barely had the time to be with her without having to worry about stopping some mad scientist with too much time in their hands. He didn't mind though. His little girl was more important than anything else. 

Still, he took advantage of the little window of time he had now. He had given Isabella dinner a little over an hour ago. Then left her in the dining room to finish her homework. She had always been a smart girl, responsible with her homework, she never fussed when he asked her to do it, so it didn't worry him in the slightest to leave her to do her own thing. She tended to get distracted when he was around anyway. 

Though, maybe an hour had gone by when he heard tiny feet pad bare through the wood floors and he saw a mess of chocolate brown strands sticking from its bun peek above his computer screen. He slowly lowered the screen until it was almost shut and he was met with a pair of sapphire eyes that were a replica of his own. He raised an eyebrow at her. 

"Daddy." She took a step closer to him, her eyes big like she wanted to ask him something. 

Leon sat up fully, setting his laptop aside and nodded at her, giving her his full attention now. "What's up bee?" 

"Can I.. uhm.. I can play with your switch now?" She asked, dark lashes batting as she fiddled with her hands. As if she had to give him puppy dog eyes for him to say yes. He kept his face serious though. 

"You wanna play on my switch?" She nodded. He ran his fingers over his light stubble as if he was thinking real hard, he pursed his lips in thought. "I dunno hun, did you finish your homework?" 

"How did you know I had homework?" She asked with an adorable frown on her face, it took Leon all of his willpower not to break then. 

"Well I do now." He slipped a smile and she pouted. He couldn't help but chuckle at his little girl. He took her in his arms and sat her on his lap. "Well I knew before. Wanna know how?" 

Her head perked up. "How?" 

Leon leaned into her ear with a smile, "'Cause dads know everything about their little girls." He pressed a kiss to the side of her hair and set her back on her feet. "But yeah, Miss Pretty Teacher told me." 

"That's cheating!" She whipped her head around with a gasp and glared at him. He again couldn't hide his laugh. 

"Yeah alright, you caught me," he raised his hands up at her in surrender. "You can play on the switch for a bit. Do you remember how to turn it on?" 

Izzy proudly nodded and skipped over to the large TV hooked up to the living room. The TV had been on, nothing playing, but just on, since Leon had intended to play some white noise in the background but never actually loaded up anything. He switched to the right input as he watched Izzy turn on the Switch. It took her a second to remember how, but she was happily skipping back to the couch with the controllers as the loading screen came up before Leon could get up to help. He shook his head to himself, but he puffed out a breath when Izzy jumped on his lap, rather hard, the little girl giggling when he groaned. 

"Jesus Christ, when did you get so big?" He chuckled, fixing her on his lap so she wouldn't fall and watched as she scrolled through the games until she found Mario Kart. 

"I turned seven in October, remember?" She piped up, genuinely reminding him of such an important date, as if he would ever forget. He nodded. 

"I know, Izzy. I took you to Dave and Busters with Amara, remember?" 

"Oh. Yeah, you're right. That was fun. We should go again sometime! Please daddy?" She turned her head to look at him with this smile on her face and her big blue eyes. 

God, what did he ever do to deserve this kid? 

He pressed his lips to her forehead and nodded. 

"'Course. I'll talk to Amara's mom, okay?" 

He watched as Izzy excitedly nodded and cheered happily before she got lost in the game in front of her. He didn't mind her having screen time. It wasn't like she had an iPad glued to her face twenty-four-seven. He let her play once or twice a week, and maybe a third if he was feeling like playing with her. And she was more than happy to spend that time with her dad. 

Tonight he wasn't really feeling playing, so he watched her do her best. To her, she was the biggest winner there ever was, throwing turtle shells and bombs at practically nothing and hitting the wall with every curve, but she had fun with it, so he let her be, cheering her on whenever she finished a race, even if it was in ninth or eighth place. 

Maybe thirty minutes had passed when he felt his phone buzz beside him. He took his eyes away from the colorful screen to look at his phone. It lit up with a text, and his smile grew wide at the name. 

My pretty teacher. 

He grabbed his phone and quickly opened the conversation. You had been texting back and forth all day, for days now, after what he considered a perfect first date, but he just hadn't gotten around to match your schedule to plan another date. So you had resorted to texting and maybe calling once here and there. But God, he was really missing you right about now.

My pretty teacher: sorry, I went to dinner with my mom and sister. And I just got home. Hru? 

He bit his lip as he attempted to type into his phone one handed. 

Me: It's fine. I'm ok. With izzy. 

My pretty teacher: awww🥰 

Me: Can you call? I'm texting with one hand at the moment. 

You saw the message, and he could see the three text bubbles appear and disappear. Until they didn't come back. He mentally grimaced at himself, maybe the idea of talking to him while Isabella was there made you uncomfortable? Shit. He hadn't thought about that. Christ, he hadn't dated in so long he had forgotten that being a single dad wasn't exactly the biggest turn on. No matter how much one liked kids. 

His anxiety riddled brain stopped racing when he saw your contact name pop up on his screen as his phone started ringing. He grinned to himself. He glanced at Izzy— her full attention was still on her game, he shrugged and answered the call. He set his phone down, still having one ear bud in from when he was working on his laptop. 

"Hey Miss." He spoke first, his heart racing in his chest a bit. 

"Hi Leon." He could hear the smile in your voice. That shy smile he thought was the prettiest thing. 

"You busy?" He asked, still a bit worried he was interrupting you in the middle of something. Though the indistinct sound of TV playing in the background let him know that maybe you weren't that busy. 

"Not really. I got home a little bit ago so I was just about to run myself a bath." You answered, walking back and forth between your bedroom and the bathroom connected to it. "You?"

Leon tried his hardest not to think about your words too much. Not right now. 

"Nah. Just watching Izzy play on my switch. She's kicking ass in Mario Kart." He heard you blurt out a giggle, which made him chuckle, but what made him actually laugh was Izzy shooting him a frown over her shoulder. 

"Daddy, that's a no-no word." 

Leon snapped his head down at Izzy and he frowned, not sure if he heard her correctly, "What's that bee?" 

"I said that's a bad word."

"What is?" 

"Ass." 

Leon almost snorted at the way she said the word. With a frown and her lips pursed. He didn't care if she said bad words or not. He sure as hell said them all the time, but he encouraged her not to repeat what he said, in front of other people, at least. He narrowed his eyes at her. 

"So don't say it. I'm an adult. I can say them." When she kept looking at him, he placed a hand on top of her head and —gently— turned her head back towards the TV screen, despite her protest. "Keep playing your game, Isabella. Or you can't sit on my lap anymore." 

All Leon could hear was you attempting to muffle your laughter, but he could hear your giggles loud and clear. He only rolled his eyes, but he had a tiny smile of his own. 

"C'mon don't laugh, being a parent is hard. Are you the one teaching her this no-no bull— B.S?" He caught himself, closing his eyes when you laughed even more, now not even bothering to hide it. 

"I have to! I have a swear jar, I'm sorry. I gotta set an example." 

He actually laughed at this, remembering the mouth you had on you when he had you on his bed. 

"Yeah, well, you weren't so pure and innocent when you were screaming—" He caught himself again, his own eyes widening when he remembered Isabella was right there and he sighed out softly. "Give me an hour and I'll give you the answer you deserve, Miss." 

You stayed quiet for a second, not because he offended you, but because you needed a second to breathe and control the heat that flashed between your legs at his insinuation. You exhaled deeply before responding. 

"You're what again? Playing Switch with Izzy? 

Leon hummed in response. "She is. She's sitting on my lap so I'm being forced to watch." 

"I'm not forcing you!"

"On your game, Isabella. Stop listening to my conversation." 

"Does she have her own Switch or something?" You asked, now sitting on the edge of your bathtub as hot water poured from the faucet. 

"No. It's my Switch. But I leave it in the living room so she can play sometimes." He answered you with a shrug you obviously couldn't see. 

You chuckled softly, "How old are you again?" 

"Thirty-eight, but that's besides the point. I barely have time to use the thing. I mostly bought it for Izzy." He wasn't lying— entirely. He sometimes played, late at night by himself when he wanted to drown himself in a bottle of whiskey. He would choose to play a game to blow off steam instead of getting drunk with his little girl sleeping in the next room or passing out drunk at some shitty bar. 

"I'm very convinced by that." You snorted, making him sigh out at you.

"Hmph. Whatever. You wouldn't understand how cathartic throwing green turtle shells at tiny cars can be." 

"Oh I bet." 

"Daddy?" You heard Isabella's voice through the phone and your heart warmed.

Leon looked down at Izzy, "Yeah?" 

"Who are you talking to?" She asked with genuine curiosity, her very glorious race tournament now over and her attention was on him. 

He heard you go silent, most likely having heard the little girl and he sighed out, his eyes landing up on the ceiling for a second as he thought of his answer. 

"Just a friend, bee." He ultimately decided on that answer. It wasn't that he was ashamed of being with you, not at all, but Izzy was still young, and even he knew there had to be a proper introduction of you outside of your teacher role. He actually wanted to do this the right way.

"You fuck my brains out last week and I'm just a friend now?" He heard you comment in his ear and he groaned out. 

"C'mon, that's not fair." He leaned back into the couch, his forearm over his eyes now as he basically had two women all over him, pressing him with way too many questions for his liking. 

"I'm just giving you a hard time, Leon. I get it." There was humor in your voice, lightheartedness and even though he couldn't see you, he had a feeling you had that gentle smile on your lips. That eased the pressure on his chest. 

"Listen sweetheart, it's almost Izzy's bedtime," His eyes were on Izzy now, and with his eyes he was nudging at her to start wrapping up her game. She pouted, but didn't otherwise fuss. "Call you in an hour?" 

You both had this dumb, lovesick smile on your face, if only you could see the other.

"I'll be up."

The warm water, the foaming body wash and the intoxicating smell of your favorite candle had done wonders to relax you. When you left the bathtub you felt like a whole new person. Though there still this tug of butterflies in your stomach as you anxiously waited for Leon to call you. 

You sat on the edge of the tub, warm and fluffy robe wrapped around your naked body as you mindlessly scrolled through your social media for a little while before you decided to check out for the night. You nearly slipped right off the tile when your phone buzzed and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine. 

"Hey, sorry about, y’know, earlier. Izzy and I are like that." You smiled at the sound of Leon's voice, now a bit hushed but more relaxed and carefree, like he now could say whatever the fuck he wanted. 

"It's okay. It was cute, hearing how you talk to her. You're sweet." You smiled to yourself, and you could hear him breathe out a soft laugh, most likely a bit flustered by your words, but he otherwise didn't show it. "You put her to sleep though?" 

"Yeah, I stayed with her 'til she fell asleep. I'm in my bedroom now, about to take a shower." He said the words slowly, with purpose, like he wanted you to think about it like he had been thinking about you, taking that bath. "So, you take your bath yet?" 

"Yeah, it was nice. I definitely needed it. I could've used some company though." You bit your lip, testing his reaction. There was silence, then he hummed. 

"Yeah? That so?" Now it was your turn to hum in agreement, your legs instinctively closing as you tried to soothe the ache between your thighs. "I'm sure you could've. Would've been nice to have someone hold you, right? Have someone leave kisses on your wet skin, say how good you're doing while getting your pretty pussy fingered?" 

You couldn't hold back the moan that left your throat at his words, and your free hand instantly traveled down, stopping at your belly. 

"Oh, that's a sound I'll never get tired of hearing. Fuck, you're already moaning for me and I'm not even there to give you a reason." He exhaled out a chuckle, his hardening cock starting to press against his sweatpants. 

"Fuck, I really wish you were here." You sighed out, your hand itching closer towards your already wet cunt, but you knew it wasn't your touch you ached for. It was Leon's. 

"Yeah? Why's that?" 

You whined softly, your phone almost slipping off your grip as your head fell to the side. "Leon…" 

"Tell me." 

"Because… I really, really, need you to touch me, hold me, ugh— I just need you to fuck me, Leon." 

Leon clenched his fist as his side, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he listened to your desperate words, and the sound shot straight to his cock. Fuck, he'd be lying if he said he didn't need you, too. 

"Goddamn baby," He grunted softly, his hand now brushing the front of his sweats, where his cock strained against the material, and he tried to muffle the sound between his teeth, but you heard it anyway. "You have no fucking idea how much I've been wanting to ruin that pussy of yours again. It's actually driving me crazy." 

You shuddered, the ache between your legs starting to become unbearable. "I really want to see you too, baby." 

Leon closed his eyes, biting his lip raw as he thought fuck it. He could explain in the morning. 

"Fuck it, just fuck it. Wanna take the drive here? I swear I'll give you exactly what you need and it'll be so worth it." 

You'd like to think you were a rational person, you always thought things through twice, three times if necessary. You didn't take risks, much less acted in a way that could be considered immoral, but for Leon? Fuck, for that man you would become the biggest whore in this world if it meant he would take you just one more time. 

"Be there in thirty." 

Fuck it. 

Sneak peek of A Love Game Part II, coming soon

His lips were hard on your own, messy on your jaw, like he didn't know which part he wanted to kiss more. Your fingers were entangled in his perfectly soft honey brown strands, already melting under his touch. His hand came up under your jaw to grip your face in place, long fingers sprawled out over your neck. He pulled you back by your face and his eyes were hard on you, with this mixture of authority and utter need to fuck you. He could be both. 

"This is how this is gonna be. I'm going to throw you on that bed and fuck you the way you deserve. But I better not hear a single fucking sound leave those pretty lips of yours. Not tonight. Got it?"

Stay tuned for upcoming parts lovelies. Besitos<3

[katz-chow]

inspired by the post you made of having a child by your hip and then him walking in and going to kiss his "pretty girls"

So, here this, Simon Riley, bad mood, and tired, just came from base to his home, his wife and daughter in the kitchen, unaware. He was going to be grumpy all night long when he heard the babbles from his baby daughter, his wife trying to teach her how to say 'mum' after the kid said 'dada' first.

Bare with me, make it extra fluffy, I'm taking it so fluffy it roots your teeth from how cute it is. The dream he never knew would happen, was now in front of him.

anyway, you'll probs get a smut req from me after this one

a/n: i did not see this until it was like an hour before i wrote and posted this. my bad, man.

warnings: fem!reader, baby, stressed out simon, fluff, domestic, maternity leave, what a family man

Simon was not a stranger to stress and aching muscles, it came almost like sleep to an already dying body. He saw himself as that whenever it got quiet and lonely. Thankfully, nowadays he finds himself in the comfort and joy of people that enjoy his company to any extent. So this stress came in a familiar yet unexpected, especially when it came in a form of 12 hours of office work and not dirt, grime, and blood. Also unusual is how this tsunami toppled him down, so close to the place he called home, in a neighborhood where only old people find themselves retiring to and grand kids running along the street.

He pulled up to the light of his home, which seemed unchanged to when he left the same house earlier that day, completely with the total darkness that consumed the sky. Keys in one hand and a lunch box in the other, he unlocked the front door and was met with the warm glow of lamp lights. The smell of dinner drifted in the air, inviting him into bliss and heat, compared to the cold and damp night outside.

One lock clicked, the other one followed, and then the tumbling of his steel-toed boots against the hardwood. A quiet draft moved around the living and dining room, a remnant of a busy, eventful day still present along the floor. Wooden peg dolls lay slain from a fight hours ago, Lego bricks scattered around from an explosion that seemed to have been devastating for the population and infrastructure of the city, how cute.

His ear perked up at the sound of soft cooing followed by the shrill of your baby voice for your girl. Behind the door to the nursery propped you up against the wall, slumped down onto the floor. The little cow onesie sat on your lap, leaning against your thighs as you held her hands, bouncing her up and down.

"Can you say 'mama?'" You whispered sing-songy, slowing down the last part, making it easier for the baby to understand. The little one giggled at you and forced you to wave your hand with its tight grip on one of your fingers.

Simon couldn't help but shake his head and roll his eyes, your diabolical plan of getting her to say 'mama' instead of 'dada' has started-which was especially unfair because you got parental leave before he did. "I heard that."

You look up at him from your spot of the fluffy rug, sticking out your tongue at him. 'How mature,' he thought as he sank down next to you. He raked a hand through his hair, resting his head against the wall as you rested yours onto his shoulder. Your cowpoke stuck her tongue out at him as he peaked open of his eyes to glare at her. "Already putting my own kid against me, how considerate of you, Lovie."

You giggled at him and thus, your baby girl also giggled, following in her mama's steps. The three of you settled down, Simon taking her from your lap and into his own, holding her close as she snuggled up into his uniform. You held onto his bicep, leaning into him. Soft lips meet your forehead as normal, just like the hundreds of times before this moment. "You got home late."

"I know, I'm sorry..." he sighed, eyes heavy and heart full,domestic life looked good on him. What looked even better was his beautiful girls in his grasp, shielding them away from the horrors of war that he fought all those years ago. This was it.

"I'm glad you're home though... we already had dinner and she insisted that we stay up to wait for you." You laughed. You missed him and the days that he wasn't so caught up, working overtime. You know why though, so paternity leave wouldn't be so out of reach.

He let out a soft laugh smiling and making funny faces at your little calf. "Yeah, I saw the destruction and war crimes the two of you caused out there."

"Womp, womp." You shrugged and let in a deep breath, content with the little family the two of you had created in a span of a few years. This is what life is supposed to be like; simple, warm, and your kids mocking you at the ripe age of 10 months.

Simon Riley, a man built on anger, pain, and built walls, is no longer just that. He's no longer just a soldier, a pawn that's willing to do anything for the greater good, sacrificing sleep, time, and himself. No, Simon Riley can no longer do that, he needs to come home at the end of day, see his girls terrorize the squirrels outside, see his girls nuzzled up watching tv, see his girls make fun of him, and most importantly, see his girls sleeping soundly in his arms.

[arlecchno]

everything has changed (alhaitham x gn!reader)

ONE. i just wanna know you better

masterlist next

SUMMARY - alhaitham was positive that he was not worthy of anyone's love, nor was anyone worthy of his. but after bumping into you on a random wednesday morning, he was ought to be wrong in many ways. also; in which you attempt on asking alhaitham out a grand total of three times; three different ways, three different places, and three different situations, in hopes of him reciprocating your so called love— people do say that third time's the charm, right?

A/N - i have delayed this for far too long. i have maybe slept while editing this draft for around 4 times. i was supposed to post this last week. forgive me pls

“three times.”

“pardon?”

you smiled at the gray-haired man at his desk, holding up three fingers as you repeated yourself once more. “i'll only ask you out three times, and if you decline all three of them, i won't ever bother you again. you can trust me on that.”

if there's one thing about you that alhaitham could describe, it's that you are… maybe a tad bit weird.

no, scratch that, you're insanely weird.

it's silly, he thinks. you're a well-known and respected scholar slash biologist from the amurta darshan. there's no one in the akademiya who doesn't know you, not when you're widely known for your eccentric researches and experiments. no, alhaitham definitely did not look into your work profile after that little incident. and even if he did, it was purely for work purposes, he was mainly doing his duty to report about it to the higher ups, lest he craves punishment or a lecture from grand sage azar.

anyway, frankly speaking, you should be professional, at the very least. hell, you have a doctorate. the title itself should be written all over you.

so why are you speaking to him like… well, he doesn't know. like you're a fool? a desperate moron in love? whatever it is, it's anything but professional to him.

see, this all started due to that sudden incident from a few weeks ago.

nothing ever beats the rush hour in the akademiya on a wonderful wednesday morning, it seems.

as a full time worker at the prestigious institute, it was just another day for you and your overworked colleagues. however, getting errands done during this time around would be a death wish, everyone within the akademiya walls knew of that, and of course, you do too.

yet it seemed like you had just dug your own grave.

honestly— who wouldn't? you needed to head over to your lab immediately, the specimens in the crate you were currently carrying needed to be experimented on within the fifteen minute timeline you had mentally set up in your head, so it was obvious that you had no time to lose.

and to speak; the crowds in the house of daena honestly weren't that bad— maybe a little less spacious than usual, but still merely nothing for an experienced scholar like you. see, that's what you had initially thought before getting back to your private lab.

you just need to head on over to the biology section of the house of daena to retrieve a book titled ‘fungi and its extraordinary lives’, and you'll be set to continue conducting your ongoing research project. look— you did think of snatching the book way earlier before you even set out on an adventure of getting your crate of supplies, but it would've been too much work for you to go back and forth from your lab, as it was already close to the house of daena.

you figured it was best to do it on your way back instead, which, in full honesty— was not even a bad idea. it was just that things just had to escalate a whole lot differently than you had intended to.

see— your first mistake was keeping your eyes busy on your task instead of what's in front of you. which, in another sense, is what any other normal person would do. well, you know your way around the akademiya like the back of your hand. the shortcuts to aisle number thirty-six in the house of daena, the bathroom to the end of the hall on floor two, the shortest route to the archive room of the akademiya, you name it. so you thought you could just waltz your way through the library easily. again, your first mistake.

your second mistake was that you were clearly doing anything but walking, understandably so. you're well aware of the akademiya rules: no running in the institution, no careless mistakes, no idle chit chat and gossip— among many others. right, the handbooks weren't a stranger to you. there was even a point in your life where you were forced to memorise it from a to z by one of your professors because you were unfortunate enough to have unintentionally broken one of the many minuscule rules that one time, which in your opinion was quite the torture for a mere student like you back then. you may or may not still hold a grudge against the said professor.

as you were double checking your to-do list with a pencil and piece of paper on your beloved crate, you hadn't realized that you were walking towards someone. okay, maybe the correct word for your actions right now would be sprinting, but you'd hate to admit that you were in the wrong.

now, this is your last mistake. the person that is about to bump into you is not a mere scholar, whom you can't just apologize to once or a few more times and move on with your day.

next thing you knew, you collided into the person's chest that was so hard it felt you just crashed into a wall, and much to your dismay, caused you to harshly fall on the pristine floors from the impact, along with your precious, precious crate, which is now most likely a lost cause as your specimens and other important stuff you had worked so hard to look for earlier were all over you and the extravagant floors of the house of daena. disgusting, you know, but that was the least of your worries right now.

as if that wasn't already downright embarrassing enough, you're now covered in gooey fungi, you have totally made a fool out of yourself, and all eyes are currently on you, scholars and students alike whispering amongst themselves at the scene they were witnessing. a monstrosity, truly.

you were sure that you'd be the main topic of gossip for at least a week. maybe two weeks at best.

the house of daena was silent, with only the chit and chatter amongst the scholars as an exception. at first sight, you wondered why everyone would pay so much attention to you instead of continuing on with what they were doing just a fleeting second ago. surely this happens in the akademiya at least once, no?

you've made two revelations to this; one, you were so ungodly hideous that everyone just had to stare. or two, you had probably just bumped into some hot-shot akademiyan.

of course, the first thing any sane person would do is look up to the perpetrator who had cause you this much damage. (it was your fault to begin with.)

so you did.

and of course any normal person who had just been bumped into would have thought of the same thing: have every reason to be angry at the person who bumped into you, whether they were in the wrong or not.

so it was only natural that you too, had the same thought in mind.

but the second you laid your eyes on him, it's as if the whole world stopped, and you finally understand why everyone was so adamant on just standing there and whispering about your little incident instead of helping you out like any decent human being would. and the latter of your revelation was definitely on spot. you would've done a victory dance if you were in any other situation except this.

because the person you had just bump into is none other than the scribe of the akademiya, the one and only, alhaitham.

you've heard of him a few times— apparently he's quite the reserved man, yet would not hesitate to call you out on your wrongdoings or foolish mistakes. well, that's what you heard anyway; as a mere worker who is trying to make ends meet, you are in no position to judge people based on what your fellow juniors run their mouths about these days.

for as long as you've been both an alum and full-time employee at the akademiya, it's truly a wonder that you've never actually seen the scribe in person. right, that's also what you've heard people say— that the scribe can hardly be spotted, nor can he be found easily to begin with. he's never in his office, and it's not often that you'd find him within the akademiya walls; the man is anywhere but at his working place, and somehow gets away with it because he's the scribe, whose presence is not of importance unless he deems so.

and if you are granted the position to say this; it is mainly because the higher ups of the akademiya takes great pride in their respected positions, so it is not a shocker that someone with an official title like grand scribe can frequently get away with such things.

egocentric, blunt, unambitious and many more— those are the few descriptions you've heard over the past few years from scholars about the scribe.

but out of all of the mysterious things you've miraculously heard about the man, you've never seen or heard people point out how attractive he is.

how could they not? he’s got a broad frame that could actually knock the breath out of you (which in this case, quite literally did knock you down), a set of clothes that somehow just screams him, despite the fact that you know next to nothing about the guy, tuft of gray hair that bounces graciously and looks luscious enough it makes you envious how he even manages to take such great care of it, and lastly, a pair of turquoise eyes that looked like an oasis from the sumeru desert, one you could just stare into forever, ever and ever.

this man is a whole package.

it was like the gods had granted you the perfect opportunity to present yourself in front of an attractive man, like the gods have finally decided to fill a bit of colour into your hopeless romantic and workaholic life, and gave you this blessing— except for the fact that this, this might be the most embarrassing way possible in doing so.

oh how you want the ground to swallow you up right now.

after what seemed like forever (it was less than thirty seconds), the man of the hour finally speaks, startling you with his voice. “would you rather sit down there like a fool or will you stand up?” ouch. maybe it's safe to say that at least one of the things people say about him are, in fact, true.

you blinked, once, twice, before you could pick up on what what he said and hurriedly stand up, glass jars of your specimens that were previously all over you clinking to the floor a little too loud, some already having been broken and shattered, but you could care less when the man in front of you was currently glaring at you like you have committed one of the six cardinal sins.

before he could even jab you more with his next few blunt words, you decided to bow down to a complete ninety-degree and started profusely apologizing, all previous thoughts of wanting to blame everything on him for ruining your prolonged experiment were thrown out the window (again, it is your fault in the first place.)

sure, this might hurt your pride and ego, but you'd rather do this than having the possibility of listening to the scribe giving you a lifelong lecture on the basic rules of the akademiya, or yet even worse, you get sent to the grand sage and have your doctorate and title revoked for being unprofessional, unethical, or whatever nonsense grand sage azar would demote you for. call yourself dramatic and insane, but you'd rather not inflict any chances of ending up humiliated or jobless. or both.

a beat passes, and you're still mumbling out apologies, causing alhaitham to clear his throat in order to cut you off.

“you… you can stand upright now,” he said, and it takes you another few seconds before you reluctantly do as he says, and the first thing you see is him looking at you with a puzzled expression plastered on his face.

“i apologize once again, scribe. it was my fault, i wasn't looking,” you looked down as you spoke, staring at your ruined materials on the white tiles.

alhaitham all but sighs, and tells you to look where you're going next time. you couldn't help but only nod, not even glancing at him once out of embarrassment. “you are fully aware of the akademiya rules, are you not? act one-o-three; no running in the institution unless–”

“–an emergency occurs, or and if ordered to by either of the six sages, grand sage included,” you finished his sentence with the slight of an eye roll, before remembering that this was the scribe, not your annoying biology professor who countlessly had you memorise the five-hundred-page worth of akademiya rules. truthfully, there was no need for a teaching institution to have that many rules.

then, he prompts another question: “do you perhaps need any help…” he seemed to have trailed off, and you flickered your eyes to him just for a fleeting second to see what he was doing. “amurta scholar?” he finished his question as he stared at your lab coat, a small badge to your left with the amurta logo pinned on it, indicating which darshan you are from.

“uh… no– it's alright,” you say sheepishly as you quickly crouched down, already starting to pick up your glass jars and whatnot. “you should get going, scribe. you must have a lot of work to do here in the akademiya.”

alhaitham could only nod as you tell him that, not even minding the fact that you were not able to see him as of the moment. he merely tells you to watch where you're going next time and starts to walk away; which in your opinion was maybe just a tad bit rude— the least he could do was help you out. but knowing him, as per what people talk about, that'd be nigh impossible. also, you did say that you didn't need any help, so you couldn't blame him per se. honestly, if you were in his shoes you'd probably have done the same.

so you hurriedly finished cleaning up your mess and ran to your lab, all in your splattered–with–gooey–fungi glory. as you sighed behind closed doors, you prayed to the gods above that your project would go smoothly and peacefully. fingers crossed.

well, maybe after yet another exhausting trip to the avidya forest for another set of fungi, that is.

but of course, it was only wishful thinking, there's not a lot to hope for when alhaitham pretty much occupied your mind the whole day. it has even gotten to the point where your fellow juniors had to snap you out of your daydream so that you could actually focus on your research.

sure, call yourself a hopeless romantic (maybe a crazy lunatic in this case), but who wouldn't fall for him at first sight? and who the hell cares about the things scholars gossip about him? a man with that sort of pretty privilege could run over your toe and you would gracefully thank him for it.

and, point in case— alhaitham isn't that bad. okay, sure, maybe a little too blunt and too uncaring for his own good, but he is not as bad as people make him seem.

maybe you should get to know alhaitham more, right? not because you're interested in him (you are, but that could be pushed aside for now), you merely want to debunk the bad rumors about him going around (they aren't even half as bad, just highly exaggerated and overall childish) and make sure that everyone knows that alhaitham is not just the egocentric and arrogant guy people always see (he probably is just exactly that, but it's worth the try).

you firmly believe there's more to the scribe than what meets the eye.

so, you make it your mission and goal to get to know alhaitham better, even if it may be the worst idea possible.

spoilers: it absolutely is the worst idea possible.

after the minor incident you had, you tried your very best to encounter him during work hours, which honestly wasn't as challenging as you thought it was. sure, he's not around much, but after maybe a week or so of hanging around the house of daena (stalking would be the ideal word you're looking for), you finally got to know his routine— well, only for when he's around the humongous library, but that will suffice for now.

evidently, alhaitham would only visit the house of daena on wednesdays, and weirdly on saturdays, at ten in the morning sharp. for what reason you quite have no clue, but he's frequently around the linguistics section, reading a book or two about ancient runes and that sort of stuff, sometimes even seen squabbling with a certain architect from the kshahrewar darshan too. you don't know kaveh much— but apparently he's acquainted with alhaitham, of all people.

but now that you know a part of his routine, you can probably catch the opportunity to get to know him. so ever since then, you have been, quote unquote, “bumping„ into him nonstop.

the first few times you bumped into him, you had greeted him a couple of times, and after a bit of coaxing, you somehow managed to drag him into small talk. you've even gotten to the point where you're asking him when he's free— reason why? of course, you just want to take him out for a bit during lunch break to make up for the incident you two had just a few weeks ago, definitely no ulterior motives whatsoever; which unfortunately, alhaitham kept declining because he quotes that “it would be a waste of time,” and that “things should just be left in the past.”

but that clearly didn’t stop you from trying, again and again. your guardians clearly didn't raise a quitter.

one thing you did find out about alhaitham after a few conversations with him is that the man is anything but fond of small talk, which was expected. and after countless attempts on trying to get him into one, you eventually had to go on a different route to get his attention.

so, here you are now, somehow having managed to reach your way to his office— and miraculously enough, alhaitham just so happens to also be present at the time, which gives you the perfect opportunity to raise the deal that has been dying to escape from your throat.

look— there's no denying that you are here for work purposes; you were requesting for one of your documentations to be cited and reviewed, and although alhaitham is mainly responsible for documenting data regarding the akademiya and the six darshans, he offered a helping hand during one of your small talks you had successfully managed to coax out of him.

and you did come here for that, but you just couldn't help but blurt everything out.

and it doesn't really help that alhaitham is looking at you like you've submitted the worst thesis possible. you haven't even handed it to him yet.

alhaitham continues to frown. “would it not be a hassle to be asking me out that much? why would you even be interested in me?” he had asked, and he didn't bother waiting for your reply as he continued speaking. “you could use those three times right now and i'll decline all of them instantly. that way, you won't have to bother me again.”

“well aren't you quite rude, scribe,” you huffed, retracting your hand back to your side. talk about rude; you're here for the sole purpose of asking him out. “give me a chance, would you? i'm confident that you'd have changed your mind by the time i'm on my last chance,” you grinned as you quirked your eyebrows up and down, and alhaitham almost rolled his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest and leans back on his chair. almost.

“i highly doubt it,” he says.

you tucked your files closer to your chest. “have you ever heard of the saying ‘third time's the charm’, scribe?”

“i believe so, yes,” he nods, then adds: “you'll only ever hear obsessive gamblers say that sort of nonsense when they've lost their current gamble, in hopes of winning the next round.”

in an instant, your jaw drops. “are you implying that i am gambling my love life?” see, if you look closely— alhaitham was this close to smiling.

“i am just saying that there is no point in pursuing something, or someone, in this case, when you've already failed the first time, biologist,” well, now you understand why scholars say he is unambitious. “it would be a waste of time to be around me, or be with me, for that matter. i doubt that i could ever reciprocate your feelings.”

ouch. you'll probably have to double check your list of alhaitham's personality chart again.

“please?” you plead, and alhaitham stares at you for a little too long that you eventually had to break eye contact to avoid his intense gaze. “i promise you that i will never bother you again, you can trust me on that. you won't even see my face on the grounds of the akademiya.”

he looks at you confusedly. “are you not the famous biologist with fifteen awards on their name? i am bound to bump into you in the near future, in one way or another.” he says, tapping his finger on his forearm.

huh, how did he know that you have won fifteen akademiyan awards? as far as you know, this guy knows nothing about you, the fact that he had to check which darshan you are from during your incident was enough proof.

maybe you're not the only one who is interested in the other.

“that's not the point!” you groaned, rubbing your temple with your free hand. this may or may not be directed to both your thoughts and him.

okay, maybe this was a bad idea after all— alhaitham is an impossible man. you'd think that you were capable enough to break his façade, to see the true him after a bit of pestering, but nooo, you're pretty damn sure this is him. there's no such thing as a façade. he's just… alhaitham. which could either be a blessing or a curse, if you ever manage to steal his heart. that, or maybe both. but then again, it still doesn't change the fact that he is one tough nut to crack.

alhaitham sighs. “will you really leave me alone?”

“huh?”

“will you really stop bothering me once you're over with your… shenanigans?”

you blinked. then, you widen your eyes, nodding. “of course. i won't pursue you again, scribe. all i am asking is for you to lend me your time for the duration of— uh, actually, i'm not sure what i am supposed to call this,” you mumble the last few words, but still audible enough for the gray-haired man to hear.

“say, hypothetically, what would you do if i were to agree to one of your three chances of asking me out? what will you do then?”

“oh,” you shift from one foot to another, awkwardness coursing through your veins at the lack of answer you could think of at the top of your head. “i… i am not quite sure. that's for future me to worry about, i guess?”

alhaitham raises a brow, but doesn't question your uncertainty. instead, he says something else in return: “alright, then. i will indulge in your antics for as long as you'd have me as your… social experiment.”

social experiment is just an over exaggeration, right? it has to be. no rational person says it like that.

“what?”

“i'm saying that i will agree to the terms you have given me, but you will stop bothering once your chances are up. do you understand?” he enunciates his words carefully, and you almost dropped your files, right then and there.

gulping, you nod, a small grin tugging at your lips, and alhaitham already regrets his words when you say: “of course.”

well, be prepared for a rollercoaster ride.

extra note - ok guys please keep me in your thoughts and prayers 🙏 writing slump is crazy this is the first work i’ve posted in over 2 months. that is ridonkulous. hope i don’t disappear again

taglist; @isotofl @dancinghillary @heartswonder

taglist is still open!! :D

[cnnmairoll]

Hello. I was wondering if you could you write a platonic angst story where the reader is Blade's child. I was thinking usually the only thing that could calm Blade down when the mara flared up was Kafka's spirit whisper but what if being around the reader was also able to calm Blade down for some reason because Blade barely spends any time with the reader unless it's during one of his harsh training sessions and one night the reader decides enough was enough and started packing their stuff but they left behind their lucky weapon (that's your choice) and Blade found it the next morning.

A Cup of Cold Tea

Character : Blade Genre : Angst Disclaimer : The relationship between the reader and Blade will be platonic as stated by the request. a/n : This was my first Request, but it didn't take long for me to find out about the anon sending the same request to most of the HSR writers despite their request was closed. I kept it in my drafts since it would be a waste if i just scrap it all out, not to mention my friend helped me out on this one, so I decided, why not just write the final paragraph and post? Things has been quite rough and busy for me so I'm not done with my hiatus, but I hope you enjoy p.s im sorry if he's ooc here, I don't know his chara well

His blade descends on you, striking downwards in a beautiful arc to cleave your skull.

You dodge within an inch of your life, the after image of his sword burning into your retinas as you fall into a clumsy heap on the floor. Still, you spare no moment for yourself as you scramble up, his sword drawing contact to where you lay as soon as you move.

The minutes blends into hours, time being a concept of little value in the face of Blade's viciousness. It takes everything you have to simply focus on the present, dodging and deflecting when you can. You always stay on the defensive in fights like these; any window you have to strike opens itself for only a millisecond before Blade runs it through clean with his sword.

It makes you wonder how you'd fare if Blade gave it his all. You've seen Blade fight on missions enough times to know that he is much deadlier when he is putting in active effort. In contrast, his movements here are much more sloppy and rabid, fueled only by the unadulterated desire to destroy. It is the madness of his mara in its purest form, though it doesn't make his attacks any less fatal, as proven by the countless wounds that litter your body.

Dead within the first minute, probably, comes the stray thought. It proves to cost you when you earn a gash on your arm, blood spilling freely from your left. You grit your teeth; you need to pay attention. There's never a guarantee for your life when Blade gets like this.

Red spider lilies bloom around you like a garden welcoming death. It sings of carnage, reeking of blood that it greedily consumes, begging for more even if it will eventually wilt away. It feels symbolic, in a way. Out of the two of you, only you are the one who is able to experience true death.

Still, you cannot help but find the blooming sea of red beautiful, even if it is always likely to be your final resting place.

There is a lull in Blade's movements, the manic in his eyes glazing into a dull scarlet as he catches his breath. Immortal he may be, but even he has a limit he will reach. It is a mercy; not only does it signify that his mara has not yet reached a point of no return, it also allows you time to recuperate. Had Blade been given unlimited stamina on top of his self-healing, you would surely have died a long time ago.

Now that the man has tired himself, it is time to bring him back.

"Father," you begin. It comes out as a feeble whisper, your lungs still burning from exertion. Still, you must press on. "Are you okay?"

Blade is silent for a beat, then two. This is fine; you can wait for as long as he needs for your words to reach him. You've gone through this routine enough times to memorize his mannerisms, all of which are currently saying that you are in the clear. So long as his grip on his weapon doesn't tighten again, then you have nothing to be afraid of.

Silence reigns within the room, until you recognize the clarity return to Blade's eyes.

"..You," he grunts, voice hoarse. It's scratchy from his manic screaming and laughter, and you make a mental note to add honey to his tea for his throat.

You nod approvingly. "Yes, Father. Are you okay?" You repeat the question, and this time, Blade manages a sharp nod.

You grin, happy at his answer. You open your mouth to speak again, but Blade cuts you to it. "What happened to your arm?"

The man stares hard at something, and you follow his gaze to find the gash on your left arm. The bleeding has mostly stopped from what you can tell, but it's still an ugly thing to look at. You'll have to wash it soon.

You hum, considering. "It's only a minor cut, Father. I can patch it by myself later."

His eyebrows twitch, his eyes narrowing. "Come," he says simply, walking towards the door.

You let your sword disperse into particles of light before following Blade out of the room. You know there is no arguing with him when he gets like this. Any attempt to reassure him that you can handle yourself will only end with him staring at you with unreadable eyes until you inevitably give in. You're not sure if he does this because he is aware of this fact. Blade doesn't strike you as the type to be attentive to such details, but it's worked every single time, so.

You are both silent as he tends to your wound, cleaning it thoroughly before dutifully bandaging it. Blade even add bandages to the smaller cuts you would've left alone, meticulous in making sure all your wounds are taken care of. You know it is his way to apologize, as he is a silent man who prefers actions in lieu of words. That, and that he's always been awkward when it comes emotions like remorse.

"Get some rest," he says, returning the equipment to the first-aid kit. Blade looks at you, expectant, and it is only when you nod does he leave you alone.

He never calls you by name. It's something that bothered you when you were younger, but it's something you've grown to accept. You're not even certain Blade can recall your name if asked. You know it is his way to cope, to always be prepared for the day when you, too, will leave him. Remembering names are a burden on his soul, so the least you can do is spare him from remembering yours.

Your patience reached its limit. In the dead of night, you quietly packed your belongings and left a note behind. It was brief but carried the weight of your feelings: "I need to find my own path for a while. I hope you understand." You didn't sign it, hoping that the absence itself would convey the message more powerfully.

The moon hung high in the sky as you walked away from the place you called home, your steps determined despite the uncertainty that gnawed at you. You had no plan, no destination in mind. You just knew that you needed time away.

The next morning, Blade woke up to find the room unusually quiet. The absence of the usual sounds—your soft footsteps, the steaming sound of the kettle pot when you made his morning tea—was like a deafening silence. He pushed himself up, his senses alert even before his eyes fully opened. His gaze darted around the room, searching for any sign of your presence.

The sight of your neatly made bed and the note left on the table struck him like a blow. For a moment, he stood frozen, his heart heavy with a mixture of regret and realization. He had been so consumed by his own pursuits that he hadn't noticed the growing distance between you.

His eyes shifted to a corner of the room, where a familiar object caught his attention. There, placed with careful intention, was your lucky weapon. The fiery red blade of the sword gleamed in the soft morning light, its hilt wrapped in supple black leather. The pommel, resembling the closed bud of a red spider lily, held a sense of elegance and balance that echoed the bond between you and Blade.

A pang of guilt and longing gripped Blade's chest as he picked up the sword. The weight of it felt familiar in his hand, a stark reminder of the times he had shared with you. The sword seemed to dance in the air, reflecting both its deadly capabilities and the beauty of its craftsmanship—a reflection of the connection he had with you, one he had been neglecting.

Blade's footsteps were heavy as he left the room, carrying the sword with him. As he went to sit down and process your absence, he noticed a cup of tea placed neatly on the table. The tea, once steaming and fragrant, now languished in its cup, forgotten and neglected. It had been carefully prepared by you before you left, a gesture of concern and care. The faint aroma of the blend, a comforting blend of herbs and warmth, with a hint of honey, still clung to the air around it, a lingering reminder of their intention.

But time had been unkind to the tea, its temperature steadily dropping as it sat abandoned on the table. The steam that had once risen from its surface in delicate tendrils, carrying with it the promise of comfort, had now dissipated into the air. The liquid's once-rich hue had faded slightly, a sign that its vitality was waning, much like the embers of a dying fire.

Blade's eyes fell upon the cup, his gaze drawn to the cold tea that had been left for him. His fingers, calloused from years of wielding the blade, reached out to touch the cup, and he felt the chill radiating from its surface. It was a stark contrast to the warmth he had felt earlier, a reminder of how quickly time could transform something from inviting to forgotten.

As he wrapped his fingers around the cup, he couldn't help but recall the hoarse quality of his voice that had consumed him during their training session. You noticed, as you always did, attuned to the subtleties of his state. The touch of honey they had added was a balm for his throat, a gesture that had been both practical and considerate.

Blade's throat tightened with an emotion he couldn't quite name. The cold tea before him held within it layers of meaning—your concern, your attempt to provide comfort, and a reminder of his own shortcomings.

Regret gnawed at his insides, twisting and churning with every breath he took. Guilt clawed at his conscience, tearing through the facade of indifference he had so carefully crafted. Loneliness engulfed him like a suffocating cloak, reminding him of the void left in your absence. And yet, beneath it all, there flickered a tiny ember of hope—a glimmer of redemption, a chance to right the wrongs he had committed.

Blade couldn't shake the overwhelming sense of despair that threatened to consume him whole. For in that moment, he realized that the hardest battle he would ever face was not against his enemies, but against the demons of his own making—the ones that whispered of his failures and shortcomings, echoing relentlessly in the caverns of his heart.

[rexmeshlasblog]

Give up?!

Commander Wolffe x Jedi Reader

Summary: Jedi Reader wants to train during shore leave, ‘cause she got defeated by Ventress on their last mission. Commander Wolffe offers himself as her sparring partner.

Word count: 1700 words

Warnings: feelings, fluff, battle, fighting, war, use/mentioning of guns and war stuff, use of Y/N, Female MC, mentions of loss, intimate moment, cuteness, sexual tension, flirting, teasing, scared of losing in a match and losing people, bit angsty maybe?, Canon typical violence

A/N: Let me know if you like how I write Wolffe and what I could do better. (Not just with character arc but also with my writing style) thank you for reading.

Ps I just found this in my drafts from like a year ago and thought its time to finally post it.

Where the kriff was he? Commander Wolffe, my sparring partner on this evening, was late for our first session. Normally he was always in time, but today, when the 104th left the cruiser for shore leave, he wasn’t.

I was walking up and down the training room while waiting. Biting my lip and clenching my fists over and over again. It made me more anxious than it should, that he made me wait for him.

Maybe he just forgot our arrangement, which consisted of him training with me my hand to hand combat skills, but I hoped he didn’t. I needed him to get better and back in my original shape.

Our last mission was a pretty tough one. We lost good men and friends. They were a part of this family and I wasn’t good enough to safe all of them. It was a misery.

To our surprise Ventress was with the droid army and I had to fight against her. While I tried my best to protect my men and myself I wasn’t able to defeat the woman with her red lightsabers. She was too strong and I too distracted at the wrong moment. Which she used.

Master Plo Koon was the one who had to save me. Luckily he came right in time as Ventress was about to shatter my heart. She nearly killed me and when I closed my eyes just a bit I still felt the heat of her lightsaber on my skin.

A shiver ran through me. It was a close one this time. Death was never as near as in this exact moment. Her lightsaber was on me and ready to slide right through. Thats what this thing was made for, but still I quite couldn’t believe how fast I could’ve been dead. There were screams around me from different troopers. Barking commands. It was Wolffe who screamed my name as Ventress was about to kill me. I’d looked at him as he tried to reach me, but he was way too far away to save me. As I reached through his force signature I just felt pure panic and angst. We held eye contact for what felt like forever before I noticed the figure appearing behind me. My old beloved Master was the hero in last minute. After all I came away with a scar on my chest. Lucky me.

The day after, when I still had to be in the medbay, the Commander offered me to train with him. At least for the time in shore leave. Then we’d see how much progress I made and decide if I’d still need his training, but I was confident that I’d need it. Obviously I would ask him to keep training with me, not just, because I wanted to stay in shape and don’t want to get killed as easily. But also because I kinda had a thing for the grumpy Commander with just one original eye.

“There you are”, I greeted him with a small smile.

Wolffe finally arrived only grunting something, which you could call one of his friendlier greetings. I was grateful that he didn’t seem in the baddest mood. Surprising that I could tell by now how his mood was depending on how he grunted and furrowed his eyebrows. Wolffe was a grumpy one and so you had to check the waters before you let the cat slip out of the bag. When I saw him hours ago he was shouting at some Shinies which broke the caf machine. A hilarious picture to look at. Wolffe had this big furrow between his eyebrows and that annoyed look in his eyes and was obvious on the edge of his nerves while the Shinies looked like they wanted to run away as fast and as wide as they were able to do.

Wolffe was only in his blacks as I noticed now. Showing off his muscles and letting zero to the imagination. I gulped feeling the heat in my cheeks growing. Kriffing maker.

“What would you like to start with, General?”, he asked politely. His voice sounded deeper than normally. If he noticed my darkening cheeks, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Maybe some simple sparring? Just starting easy in this session.“ Starting easy. Yes, for sure.

Wolffe only nodded. I knew that the clones were good at fighting. Not just with their blasters, but also with their hands and body’s. So it was clear that it would be a difficult task to defeat Wolffe.

A few seconds later I was already on the floor again. I stopped counting after the fifth time. And I was a Jedi? Not even able to protect myself without my lightsaber and the force. How should I protect others then?

Above me Wolffe smirked a grin right out of hell. He was enjoying this far too much. 

“Already giving up, General?“ One eyebrow raised a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. There was a sparkle in Wolffes eyes one I rarely saw and which he only showed when he was truly in the mood for some fun.

“You think I’m defeated after a few times on the ground? Then you don’t know me well enough, Commander.“ With a simple jump I was right back on my feet. My arms in front of me in a defensive position. Wolffe switched into fighting position right away, but not before giving me a sarcastic eye roll. He really was one of a kind.

“Then we keep going.“ Wolffe murmured more to himself.

Half an hour was going by. Wolffe only hitting the floor a few times when I remembered some old Jedi tricks from time to time. But now, while he was also slowly losing his power, his movements were slower and less precise. A advantage I’d happily use. I had saved my strength to be able to counterattack at the right moment, when he’d get more tired.

Just as Wolffe was about to punch me in the stomach, a spot I had deliberately left uncovered, I grabbed his other arm, twisted it behind his back and threw him to the ground, all while also pulling his feet away. Too bad I hadn't calculated that he could pull me along with him, because that's exactly what he did. Wolffe grabbed my jedi robe and I fell right with him to the floor. Me above him. For a second I hesitated before I used the position to pin his arms and legs with my own. I got him. The big bad Wolffe was defeated.

“Give up?“ I asked out of breath. Wolffes breathing was as heavy and loud as my one while his chest brushed over mine with every deep breath he and I took. I felt his breath on my lips. His pupils were blowing wide and sweat visible on his forehead. He smelled better than I expected. More like himself and less like everyone else on the ship. More like the real Commander and not the cheap lemon soap the Clones got.

As I noticed now he was wearing a small smirk again. “You should know better.“ And with that he used his power and rolled us over. Now he was on top of me. One of his legs between mine while he pinned my hands above my head. Wolffe was obviously stronger and every attempt to break free failed.

“Give up, Mesh`la?“ Eyebrows raised and a confident smile was all I could see. Kriff, he really got me now. Unless I’d use this situation and my body to my advantage.

“I don’t know, you tell me Wolffe“, I whispered against his lips.

Wolffe growled under his breath before he brushed his lips against mine. Now I got him where I wanted.

“You’re doing things to me you don’t know ‘bout“, he mumbled deeply and I was sure that he felt my heart drumming against his chest. Wolffe had this special power over me and it was clear that I made him feel the same way. We never spoke about our feelings, but we both knew, that this between us was something more than a friendship. Maybe a dangerous game, because if anyone found out about our mutual feelings, they would take each other away from us. After the war, I always told myself, maybe after the war there’d be an opportunity to get together, but not now.

Wolffes hands which pinned mine loosened its grip while one of it went straight to my waist. His eyes were hooded and his breath was quicker than usual. The Commander really thought our little game was over.

“Maybe you should tell or show me then.“

His breath hitched after my respond, “I don’t want to scare you off.“ His eyes were showing pain I’d never seen in them before. Was he scared of losing me? He could never. I knew about his reputation. He was the big bad wolf the little Shinies and other clones were afraid of. But I wasn’t scared of his hard case. I actually adored it. It made him intriguing.

“I’m a Jedi. It’s not easy to scare me off, Wolffe. And you’re definitely not someone I could ever be scared of.“

He shrugged, wanting to say something, but before he could, I wrapped my legs around his hips and turned us over once again.

“Who has the upper hand now?“ I smirked. This time pining him, so he couldn’t roll us over once again.

“Looks like you won this time, Cyare.“

“Obviously, Commander.“

I got up to my feet, before giving Wolffe a helping hand which he agreed to take. This little moment between us was over.

“But I don’t think the Clankers will fall for a move as such.“ Was all he said all while giving my butt a little smack, as I was slowly walking away. All I could do was smirk. Typical Wolffe.

I winked at him, “You aren’t one of the Droids and also, it was a move I specially made up for you.“

Wolffe crossed his arms, not before giving me one last of his typical eye rolls. “See ya, Wolffie.“

I heard him chuckle while walking away. Excited how our next interaction would go on.

[kpop-with-mars]

|Ateez X Trans (Ftm) Reader|

{disclaimer; I dont own any gifs used, this is also inspired by @kittensyoonie and their ateez x trans reader so please check them out as well~.}

{Summary: Ateezs reactions to learning that your trans/you coming out to them.}

{Tags; fluff, angst, hurt comfort, just having a silly old time (mostly),}

{⚠Warnings⚠; I haven't had top surgery or any other forms of gender affirming medical care so some things might be wrong. this also might not relate to every trans person so im sorry T^T. Also look out for misgendering, dead naming, transphobia,}

{ Hi guyss I haven't been writing alot cuz I have so many drafts and i've been working on NONE of them T^T, but don't worry I will post them soon once finished. i've got some goodies in the vault so please look forward to them. alot of these scenarios might be pretty dramatic so sorry ✌ but without farther ado you can read now. Enjoy! maybe? idk its up to you - 🃏}

Hongjoong

You were with him on vlive for your 1 year anniversary of being together so you both read atinys questions and blocked disrespectful ones.

hongjoong attached himself on your arm while you read. "Do you look at other idols?!" you read in shock, hongjoong looked directly at you menacingly. you looked away from him "no~" you answered tucking hair behind your ear.

"You better not" he kissed your cheek making you giggle while hongjoong looked at the other questions until he found one.

"Is y/n transgender?".

hongjoong stared curiously at you "yes, im transgender" as soon as you said that, the viewers and comments spiked upward.

"Im so proud of you for coming out, ill always support you" he gave you a gentle peck on your lips before he turned to the camera.

"Atiny, lets all show our support for y/n okay?. if I see anything that doesn't i won't stand for that, this is a space for everyone so lets make it feel like it" he smiled at the camera when he finished.

You both read more questions and felt thankful for the support from atinys, eventually the camera was turned off and when it did, you and him were getting ready for bed when he pulled you into his chest "I can't believe you came out like that, you didn't feel pressured into it right? " he gently stroked your hair.

"I never thought i could do that, but ever since i met you i've felt more like me" he hummed in response before he put his hand on your cheek lifting up your face "I love you~" he cooed "I love you too" he chuckled at your shyness and he hugged your head to his chest.

Seonghwa

You were at home recovering from your top surgery, you felt like tired didn't wanna move from your bed while you hugged your pillow to your chest, until you finally decided to get up and eat.

But as you walked into the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast you heard the front door unlock. you looked at the door wondering if this is the day you die until it opened to seonghwas smiling face.

"Hi honey" he walked up to you and kissed your forehead before he looked you up and down "Did you just wake up?" "No i woke up an hour and a half ago, i just got out of bed tho" he brought his hands up to your face and turned it from side to side "Did you eat yet?" you shook your head "good thing I got you some food" he handed you the food, which you ate in minutes after seonghwa guided the two of you to the table.

"Are you alright y/n?, you seem tired did you get enough sleep?" he bombarded you with questions while rubbing your back. "I feel fine, maybe just about sluggish" "I know im busy alot, but i just wanna know if something happened while I was away, please?" he moved his hand from your back to your free hand.

You decided to tell him "im sorry I didn't tell you sooner but, I got top surgery" seonghwa looked into your eyes waiting for you to explain "because im transgender" you added.

"That's cool, im glad you're okay" he smiled brightly you responed by giving his lips a gentle peck "I love you" you said making eye contact with him "I love you too, my handsome man".

Yunho

You and yunho were looking at pictures from his childhood while he told the stories behind them, alot of them making you laugh.

He was flipping though more photos when he paused "what?, what is it?" you asked him and he turned his head to you. "I don't think i've seen your baby photos before, have i?" he tilted his head to the side with curiosity in his eyes.

You didn't know what to tell him other then lying "Well i- um" you stammered "You're not embarrassed about them, right?." yunho asked when he noticed how anxious you were getting.

"Yeah, a little bit" you took a deep breath, you pulled out you're phone and showed him a picture of you as a kid. he looked at for a moment then smiled "I don't see any problem with it" yunho said with confusion.

You scrolled through your phone until you found one from prom, and you showed it to yunho. He took in the photo he was seeing before he responed "Oh, oh, you looked..." he had an awkward smile on his face "What" you asked knowing exactly what he was gonna say, until he said something you haven't heard.

"You just don't look happy in that picture, and i don't like it" he put his hand on your back. "I like who you are now because I know that you're happier this way" yunho wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into one of his special hugs.

You would cry but yunho made you too happy to, that's what you loved most about him, and that's what he loves most about you.

Yeosang

You and yeosang started working out together, nothing more sexy then seeing a muscle-y yeosang with an extra shine on his skin.

After more grueling exercise the two of you were taking a break and eating lunch together. "t-that was...alot to say the lest" he wiped sweat from his forehead with a rag and drank his shake.

"Yeah, I think im all worked out for the day" you smiled at him, mean while your sleeveless shirt puffed out and yeosang couldn't help but look "woah-" he admired your toned arms and chest, making you straighten yourself up and cross your arms over your chest.

"It's no secret your totally hot, even with scars" he laughed "Wait what scars??" yeosang made a confused face "the ones on your chest?"

"What- I don't-" "but you do?" he was getting concerned about the way you were suddenly so defensive. "Are you getting self conscious about yourself?-" "no it's just-" you felt you'd just ruined this nice day working out with yeosang by making him upset.

Yeosang came up to you and held your hand "What's wrong honey?" he asked in a sweet but worried tone making your heart sting a bit. but that made you realize this was stupid to keep from him.

"Those scars on my chest..." he looked intently at you "they're from top surgery... im transgender" yeosang pulled you into a hug while he stroked your muscles "that's nice. Im glad you're happy with who you are" he looked at you and gave your lips a quick kiss "and with me~"

You and him laughed about it and continued on with lunch "oh y/n!, can I see your abs again?...please?" his confidence faded to embarrassment when he asked, this caught you off guard but this was at KQ's gym after all, might as well give him some fan service.

"Sure" you lifted up your tank top for him, making him choke on his food for a second. you asking if he's okay until he answered "im fine...but not as fine as you~" you laughed at yeosang's cheesy pick up line and enjoyed the rest of the day with your boyfriend.

San

San was having the best day of his life when you came out wearing some of his clothes, the way his clothes looked so baggy on you made him feel like he had to protect you at any cost.

"Cute~" was the only thing he could say in awe as he stared at you, you gave him a little spin "All of your stuff is so comfy~ it was hard to choose which to wear" you went up to him and threw your arms around his waist and hugged him tightly.

He pet your hair lightly "ill let you wear anything of mine if it makes you happy" he stroked your cheek and kissed your forehead. "Are you ready now?" you nodded your head and san began to walk you through the bouncy choreography.

The two of you were having a fun time and laughed whenever you made a mistake, or when he did. he was showing you how to go down for the chorus. "Then we do that for one, two, three, four. got it?" he demonstrated for you while he spoke "yeah I think so" san nodded then played it for you.

You started going down with the beats while san counted. but even though the shirt you were wearing provided some good ventilation, it was going down your chest more and more with each move.

"Oh-" san laughed out and paused the music. you laughed too with him and the shirt was falling off, revealing most of your chest. san noticed this and smirked when he walked toward you then noticed your scars. "What are those?" he pointed to your chest and you looked down.

"Oh" you pulled up your shirt "those are top surgery scars" san nodded then he suddenly got a look of surprise on his face "you're transgender!?" you put a thumbs up and smiled "Ooo that's cool, like pungja right? but just the other way around?" You nodded.

San picked you up in his arms and lifted you "no wonder you have such a feminine body" he teased you and ruffled your hair "That's why I kinda like wearing your clothes, they're good at hiding it when I want to" you giggled he squeezed you tightly.

"Well like I said, ill let you wear anything of mine if it makes you happy~" he kissed your cheek and put you down. "Alright now since you wanna know how, let me show you right now~".

Mingi

Mingi had took you with him and the members while touring around, he really needed cuddles after performing his heart out and you were his stress reliever.

He walked into the hotel room and you were on your phone and he went straight to the shower after greeting you, having been covered in sweat while you waited quietly for him on the bed.

He came out of the bathroom with his pajamas on and his hair wet. you opened your arms out to him "come here princess~" you understood how tired he was and he flopped down on your side, his head on your shoulder as his hands moved around your body.

He was obviously much taller then you but he felt so small hugging your body. "I love you~" you told him and kissed his forehead while your hand held the back of his head. "I love-" mingi froze when his hand reached a small long bump on your chest, his sleepy eyes widened a bit.

You chuckled lightly at his reaction and you held his cheeks "those are just scars. im transgender, I used to be a woman so I got surgery to get a flat chest" you explained and he nodded "That's cool~ are you happy?" he asked in a deep sleepy voice. "Of course I am. im even more happy with myself after I met you~" you kissed him lightly on the lips.

He gave you his gummy smile and he cuddled you closer to your body, laying his head against your collarbone. you turned your body to him and wrapped your arms around his head and back.

"I love you" his voice was muffled against your chest. "I love you too princess~" he smiled and you turned the lamp off and the two of you fell asleep. your princess finally getting the sleep he needed while knowing you're happy.

Wooyoung

"Come on babe!, let's go to the beach-each what they gonna say~" you heard him sing from down the hall while you were getting ready. you and wooyoung decided to go on a beach date when he had a break from promoting, and now that day was here.

You hurriedly searched for a swim shirt of any kind but to your dismay you couldn't find one. "im coming!" you threw on a shirt and run out the door with wooyoung.

At the beach you and wooyoung ate lunch that the two of you prepared together, after wooyoung finished he threw his shirt off and on your towels and booked it to the water, "Come on y/n!, let's cool off!" He yelled for you when he was in the water.

You grimaced nervously and walked over to the shore, you sat down and brought your legs to your chest. you felt the water lightly brush your feet. wooyoung raised his eyebrow at you "is something wrong babe?" he was confused by your actions.

"N-No.." you denied, but you knew wooyoung would keep pressing you til you dropped dead so you stood up and took your shirt off. you stepped into the water near wooyoung.

"See~, its not so-" he noticed your scars. "Babe?!, did something attack you in the water??. Is that why you were nervous?" he quickly stepped up to you and took your hands.

You chuckled lightly "No... im just transgender" you smile feeling your unease drip away. "Oh, well of course that's alright dummy" he hit your shoulder lightly. "I love you~" he said in a cheesy tone. "I love you too~"

He pecked your lips "I've never actually been to the beach without a shirt on sense surgery, i just get kinda nervous you know?" you admitted while the two of you were in calif deep in the water.

He smiled sweetly "I understand but lets not worry~. I promised to give you some of my confidence when we started dating..." he took a short pause to look in your eyes before he gave you a big smile "so come on lets go have fun!" He dragged you further into the water while the two of you laughed.

Jongho

A sudden knock interrupted your thoughts while in a cracked voice you said "Come in". the door opened to jongho's handsome face making you straighten up and try to make it look like you weren't crying.

"I was told you weren't feeling alright" he explained himself and sat next to you giving you a kiss on the cheek. "Do you wanna talk about it?" he looked at you with pleading eyes.

He held your hand in his squeezing it gently until you gave in and started tearing up again, "If -i was different back when I was younger, would you still love me?" he stayed silent allowing you to continue. "I know I shouldn't care what people think, but i don't feel like ill be- anything to anyone, really. I hate how people looked at me---and still look at me---especially because I knew what they were thinking"

you took in some more fresh air and wiped some tears before jongho spoke "Why would people ever judge you?". you responded "because I didn't want to be what they wanted" he thought on that for a moment before he asked another "What did they want you to be?" his voice held nothing gentleness and compassion, instantly you felt safer.

"A girl they could control" you put your face on his shoulder and lightly sobbed, jongho wrapped his arms around you and helped control your breathing. he held you in his warm chest for awhile, until you pulled away.

"You don't have to deal with this alone, okay?... I'm sorry you didn't feel safe telling me before but," he paused for a minute and held out his pinky "Let's get through this together now, promise" you let out a light chuckle and interlocked pinkies with him.

His arms snaked around you while you held him tightly hoping to never release, jongho turned your head to him and he gave you a kiss you'd been dieing to get. his lips fit onto yours like a puzzle piece, and like a puzzle you were complete.

{Hi guyss~, I sadly couldn't finish my hongjoong x trans reader one shot I was writing for his birthday so ill be working on it and ill post it when its done or just work on some other fics, speaking of them ill probably do some sort of poll or vote for these other fics I really wanna write so that I know what y'all will wanna see next~~. I got inspired by @kittensyoonie I read their ateez x trans reader thing and I was inspired by them to write this. So thank you to them and also read theirs!. - 🃏}

[hauntedwitch04]

Amazing life

Remus Lupin x reader

Author's note: This oneshot is purely and selfishly for me, since two years ago I published my first post and I wanted to celebrate it in this way, manifesting the life I desire and dream about every day of my life. I hope you enjoy it despite the fact that it is very personal.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Oh my God!" Comments in a whisper, which actually turns out to be half shouted.

Immediately you hear your husband's heavy footsteps coming toward you from behind. You immediately sense his presence as he lowers his torso so that his head is beside yours. In his hand is a cup of hot chamomile tea, which he immediately places on your desk as he leaves a kiss in the crook of your neck.

"What's the matter honey, something wrong with the book?" asks Remus slightly concerned to see your face upset, but at the same time happy, which does not allow him to fully comprehend what he sees.

You shake your head without saying anything, and with your finger point to him a date under a Tumblr post now centuries old, from an account you may have left hanging in that limbo of existence for years, with no real reason to exist except to feed your own memories.

"That's today's date." He confirms, looking at the date marking the computer: November 2.

You still remain silent as you stare out the window at an undefined spot, as you smile and let a few tears run down your cheeks. You listen carefully to the sound of the rain beating down over the glass of your small apartment in downtown Edinburgh. You had finally managed to move to this city after having spent a lifetime dreaming of doing so, and you had also managed to do so with the man of your life, or rather you had met him there on your first trip made in discovering this wonderful city that enchanted you with its charms, and you had immediately fallen in love.

After a few years you got married and decided to stay and live in Edinburgh, where you pursued a career as a filmmaker, and as a writer in your spare time.

You've always loved both film and writing, and you couldn't give up either of them in your life, and in return you got nothing but joy and a few less hours of sleep.

Just now you were looking for an old written note in your computer documents, for a story you are writing, when you remembered that you might have written it of the drafts from your first Tumblr account, where you started writing, and so you ended up spending hours rereading and commenting on the stories the little you had written, laughing, crying, and sometimes ashamed of your work, even though you often stopped and thanked even those poor oneshots that you didn't consider up to your writing because they were simple or trivial, because after all, it's because of them that you got where you are now.

Everything up to the first story you had written. A simple oneshot about Rhysand, a character in the series "A court of thorns and roses" written by Sarah J Maas. You had finished reading the series a few months earlier, and you had become very attached to that character who had made you fall in love with her words and actions.

The month before publishing this had been one of the worst months of your life. You had had an accident working out, and you had injured ligaments in your ankle, and you had stayed home from school for a month, crawling and hopping to get around, having to ask everyone for a hand and hating every second of it, since if there is one thing you can't stand in the world, it is showing weakness and asking for help.

You had spent a month alone, seeing all your friends go to school and have fun together, while you spent all day alone with your thoughts, and so your only refuge had been writing.

You had decided to write an oneshot about one of your favorite characters, to comfort yourself for a moment, without the idea of publishing it anywhere. It wasn't the first time you had published something on the Internet, but it was the first time it would be solely yours, and written solely for you, and that made you a little anxious. Eventually you had decided to post it on Tumblr, after several indecisions and in the throes of an anxiety attack, you mashed on that sadistic button that published your first story, before walking the dog and praying to all the known gods that you hadn't fucked up.

As soon as you got home you had checked and were amazed like a little girl seeing Christmas presents under the tree, seeing that three people had liked your story.

From there it was all history, in the good times and the bad times of your life, a constant that allowed you to survive, thanks in part to the support and love of the people who followed your page, read your stories and whom you had come to know over time.

You have never met better people than on Tumblr, devoid of hate or resentment, always ready to help others with a comment or a compliment.

"This is the first story I ever wrote." You whispered to your husband who had stayed behind to read the story while you looked out the window.

He brings his eyes to you, smiles and kisses your forehead.

"It's been a lot of years, and yet it seems like yesterday that I wrote this simple imagine. It seems like yesterday that I was a simple little girl with a dream in her drawer." You confess, as you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

"I am proud of you, who you were and who you have become." He whispers after slightly pulling his lips away from my forehead.

I smile, and he smiles back, as with one last kiss he pulls away to take the old coffee cup to the kitchen, promising to come back, wanting to read all the things I had written in my youth.

I laugh, as I shake my head, and smile to think how little me did not expect this life, and how much I longed for it at the same time, and I would like nothing more than to go back and confess to him to hold on, that sooner or later life will get better.

I look at the picture on my desk, a picture of my last birthday, spent with all my friends from high school and college, and I smile to think that in a little while, on my birthday, maybe I might want to go back in time and see little me one last time, and tell her how magnificent our life had become.

[knockyasocksoff2022]

May I Love You - RANPOE Oneshot

FT: Yosano, Dazai, Kenji & Fukuzawa

This is my first time writting anything not an AU for ranpoe, and only my second time in total writting them. Also This is my first time writting Yosano & Dazai interactions in depth, I really like their dynamic and I hope to write more of them.

This is differnet from my usual stuff, it focus less on ranpoe and more on the ADA dynamic, which I love writting.

Thanks to @autumnleaf1111 for reminding me to post this. It's been in my drafts since FOREVER.

Ranpo’s Perspective:

I deduced my boyfriend's– I mean rival’s intentions days and days ago but he’s been working on a new manuscript that I haven’t had time to confront him about it. Ordinarily, I would beat him to the punch but it’s fun watching him be all shy.

A scratching sound from behind me brings my attention back to the office. I’d know that sound anywhere. Karl. My best friend. It’s time.

I turn, and he drops the leather-bound volume in my lap. I start to reach in my pocket but he skitters away before I can give him a treat. How odd! He’s just as much a sweet tooth as I am, is Edgar mad that I haven’t mentioned his recent project? I’d assumed he’d wanted space to work on it.

I open the volume.

It’s blank.

There isn’t a trace of ink or indenting on any of the pages. This is getting more confusing by the second, which is distressing because confusion isn’t something I feel often. Then I spot it.

As soon as I see the note taped to the back, the situation becomes obvious. Ah, Edgar, you managed to stump me for a second! You really are my soulmate.

I start to get up but the amount of effort Edgar must have poured into this, given how shy he is, must have been immense. If he’s asking this of me I really should respect his work.

Already itching to see the book's author, I turn over the last page and read the carefully scrawled note. Edgar’s handwriting can appear at times somewhat messy, almost fevered when his mind is supplying him with ideas much faster than his hand can move. But this note has been written in delicate decadent script, the characters almost taking on the appearance of English cursive as they curve elegantly. He thought about this, most likely writing several drafts until it was perfect.

It reads:

“I’m sorry, I know I should be doing this in person, but I’d be far too embarrassed with all of your colleagues present. I suppose this is what I get for being too impatient to wait until your work hours end. And I’m sure by this point you’ve already deduced my intentions, however, I do wish to do this formally, so if you have any intention of accepting my offer, meet me outside.”

I’d been expecting this, I know I had but I can’t help the way my heartbeat accelerates, pounding in my chest, filling me with butterflies.

I almost knock over Kenji as I run out the door.

Yosano’s Perspective

I’ve never seen Ranpo run before.

Well, I have, but that was when we were about to be murdered. Other than dashing around when he accompanies one of us shopping, his pace is light and even, without a care in the world.

Now he sprints through the office, heading straight for the door. Last I checked there are no new murders he’s been asked to help with. Does he even know where he’s going?

I saw that Racoon, Kyle, I think its name is, drop off a manuscript from the Guild author that comes by often. Did something in the book upset Ranpo that much? And why didn’t Ranpo get sucked into the book after the first page?

I hope we don’t have to go look for him, especially since we’re down four people. Kunikida and Atsushi are out on a reconnaissance mission and it’s the Tanizakis’ day off.

I start down the stairs after him, he doesn’t even turn at my footsteps, and when I get almost out the door I see the raccoon again, and a sleek black car, an American company.

The author is here! I see. That means I should give them some privacy then. I giggle and creep as quietly as I can back up the stairs, so as not to disturb the two men.

Dazai is already standing at the window, looking out over the street below. I go to meet him, still smiling as I think of the detective and the author together.

Dazai looks over at me nodding to the boys below us. Even though they’re older than both Dazai and I, I can’t shake the feeling of watching two teenagers have their first love. Maybe it’s because they’re both so different from others of their age. Maybe it’s because both our pasts have aged Dazai and me so much beyond our physical years.

We’re silent as we watch them share an embrace and then a kiss.

I reach over to the desk and pull the manuscript from the table, a note falls out. My smile only grows as I read it. A love confession, or nearly. Ranpo has a boyfriend now.

Dazai sighs, turning away from the window, back still resting against the sill, looking back to the office. His gaze is fixed on me now, something like a smile on his lips. A smile different from the wide grins he usually flashes, it doesn’t look so painted on. A smile tainted by all he’s been through. Real but fleeting, never wide or bright enough because of a dark, twisted past. I don’t think he minds it, he should, but he doesn’t.

“That makes four of us with partners from opposing organisations” The chuckle that leaves his lips is a twisting hollow sound, not unlike his smile.

“Yeah” is all I can say, trying to ground myself in the calm moment. I force myself to think only of how happy Ranpo looks, the rosy blush dusting his cheeks. If I’m happy for him I can’t be sad for me.

Gentle footsteps echo, Kenji is at the window beside us. He stares at Ranpo and his new boyfriend.

“Wow! Ranpo-san looks so happy, good for him!’ Kenji cheers.

Dazai pats the farmer boy on the head and presses his pointer finger over his lips, shushing him. “How about we keep this between us? After all, this isn’t our secret to tell.” 

Kenji’s eyes widen in realisation and he looks around just to make sure the office is empty as he nods, “Alright, of course, I won’t mention it. You have my word.” 

“Thank you, Kenji-kun.” Dazai’s words are so quiet I almost can’t hear them and from there, silence creeps in, the comfortable kind, the happiness still like a blanket over me even after we turn away from the window.

The warmth of the feeling only dulls when something occurs to me.

“Wait, earlier you mentioned that there are four of us dating those from other organisations, who’s the fourth? Did Atsushi and Akutagawa finally get together?” 

But that would still leave one couple?

“Nope!” The grin is back on Dazai’s face again.

I try to puzzle it out. There’s me and Kaji, Dazai and Chuuya, and now Ranpo and the Guild Author. Who’s the last couple?

Finally, I give up. “Then who?” 

“Not my secret to tell either.” 

I feel the cool steady pressure of someone's gaze on me. There’s only one person who could make you feel that just by looking at you, the only person I’ve ever met who has such an unshakably calm aura—the President.

I turn to greet him, but he’s already walking out.

“Oh, President, where are you going?” I ask because I’m a little embarrassed to be caught just staring out the window and doing nothing during working hours.

He offers a small smile, “Just out. You needn't bother yourself, return to what you were doing. I’ll be gone for the remainder of the day, but should you need me for anything you know where to contact me.”

I watch him go, he’s taking his bag with him. It’s rare for him to leave early, this must be important.

Yukichi’s Perspective

I shake my head as I head out the office door.

Yosano-kun and Dazai-kun have resumed their banter. I listen for a moment.

“Dazai, pleeease!” Yosano-kun drags out the words in hopes of breaking Dazai-kun’s steel resolve.

“Nope!” I can picture that clownish smile of his, so like the look someone I know gets when he’s about to pull something mischievous, only Dazai-kun wears it all the time. As if it was plastered onto his face or he put it on so many times he forgot to take it off or forgot how.

I continue down the stairs, and the last thing I hear is Yosano-kun’s scream: “You little shit!”

I know Dazai-kun won’t reveal the name of the fifth agency member dating someone from another organisation. He’s withstood far more gruesome torture with a smile on his face. Most of the time I can only hope he’ll relax into a life in the light. I wish he would accept that he is truly safe now, but now I’m grateful. If that name were to get out it wouldn't be good for anyone involved

Speaking of couples, I owe a certain surgeon money. 

Oh, my Ranpo, my beloved son, why couldn’t you have waited another month to start dating Poe-san?

(A/N: Even Dazai doesn’t know about Tachizaki)

[woonova]

꩜ ﾟ˖ CRUSH

◟﹙ 💌 ﹚lee heeseung ﹕ oneshot ﹙ @woonova ﹚

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  written to lovers rock by tv girl

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  genre fluff, highschool au, classmates to lovers?, mutual pining?

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  synopsis on your arrival to a new school you catch the eye of lee heeseung, who carries an unfamiliar emotion in his big brown eyes whenever he looks at you

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  warning none i think, please let me know if you find any!!

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  wc 1.4k

rin's notes ! this was actually a scrap i found while clearing out my drafts and its also one of the first works i wrote!! so enjoy ^_-

— tumblr’s algorithm works best with reblogging so plz consider reblogging and liking my posts ! —

00 | HEESEUNG STARED AHEAD OF HIM, all mentions of algebra by his professor falling deaf to his ears. His gaze, deeply rooted on the girl who sat before him. This is how it had always been ever since you were introduced to the class months ago.

It had been a chilly monday morning when Heeseung arrived to his first session, already dreading getting out of bed a few hours prior. Absentmindedly, he strolled to his desk hoping to get atleast a few more hours as rest time. Thats when he noticed the still teenager in front of him.

Head between your arms, covered by a beanie decorated with star charms and other accents, it was grey and just a few shades darker than your uniform skirt. Hands comfortably covered by the sleeves of your oversized white shirt, fingers clutched tightly to its' cuffs in your comatose state. Feet covered in black sneakers with white stars drawn on the side.

Heeseung had quickly become intrigued with the sight of a newcomer. And now it was a regular occurrence for him to be tapped by the teacher, whispered to by one of his friends, or recieve slight kicks under the desks in an attempt to get him to regain focus.

It didnt work, or maybe it did. He was focused, just not on finding the answers to unnecessary question, but on you. 

+

01 | "WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME?", a question that never seemed to stop crossing the tip of your tongue over the next few weeks. It was as if it was always supposed to be a thought and never meant to be uttered in fear of the response you may get in return. Fear? Why fear? When there was no reason to be afraid. In fact, you never really gave much thought towards the unmistakable glances being thrown your way on the daily, just passing it off on the fact that you were new. Everyone stares at the new kid right?

Well, that statement was partially correct. There was a short period in which you would receive looks from your classmates. Different days, different eyes filled with, confusion, interest, awkwardness, or just plain blank eyed stares. The last being the reason the aforementioned statement was only partially true.

Even after months of being apart of the school environment you still received these stares, except these eyes contained an emotion you weren't familiar with. Lee Heeseung, the culprit for your new found confusion regarding feelings the eyes could carry.

+

02 | STANDING IN FRONT OF THE LOCKER, Heeseung constantly rocked on his feet. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Like a loop of sorts. His eyes holding a similar movement, darting back and forth along the empty hallway. Clutching tightly to the envelope he held in hand he let out a quiet sigh contemplating if this was the right idea.

He wasnt sure how he ended up here. Standing in front of his crush's locker, whiteknuckling the slightly crumbled envelope, hoping you hadn't decided to leave gym class early. The only reminder being the faint memory of the short conversation he had with his older brother the previous night.

He heard the familiar sound of the school's bell, signifying there was only 10 more minutes left for the classes that were taking place, but nevermind that Heeseung thought, he had business to take care of — successfully planting the letter in your locker undetected and getting the hell out of there.    

But as faith would have it, you successfully spoiled Heeseung's plan.

Being let out from gym early had been both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because now you had enough time to change and get your business done without being subjected to the suffocating mass of sweaty teenage girls aka the girls changing room. And a curse because everyone had seen you fall flat on your face earning yourself a bruised lip and a special escort to the nurses office to treat any other injuries.

It also had another advantage — if you could even call it that, spotting Lee Heeseung standing before your locker looking as happy as ever.

+

03 | HEESEUNG DID IT, today was the day. He had slipped his note into the locker with 5 minutes to spare. He had finally made a move and he was gonna be early to his next session. It was probably an overreaction but Heeseung felt as if he were on cloud nine, that was until he turned around and immediately felt his smile drop to a frown. At the thought of him being caught and the sight of the numerous bandages covering your skin.

There you were staring right up at him. Sharp eyes containing slight confusion, head titled slightly and fingers gripping the black bag strap that laid over your jacket covered shoulder. He wanted to ask if you were okay or hopefully get you to relay what had happend, but he kept quiet. Still a bit too shocked and embarrassed.

As he stood there, holding awkward eye contact, Heeseung wondered what he may have looked like to you in this very moment. Did you think he was a creep or a weirdo for messing with your locker? Would you now look at him differently? What would happen when you eventually saw the letter? Would you feel the same? Or would you reject him, leaving him a victim to heart ache? He felt like putting his long legs to use and getting the hell out of there, but he couldnt. Not when you were staring up at him with those pretty eyes he had longed to see.

There was no change in your expression as you slowly signalled for him to shift over so you could open your locker.

And even as you opened your locker — not missing the envelop that fell to the ground, you just continued with your business, not even batting an eye until you were finished and slowly bent down to pick it up. Running your fingers over it, feeling the material as it made contact with your fingertips you looked at heeseung unsure how to respond.

"You left this for me," you let out in the form of a small mumble, still surprised with the sudden attention you were receiving. Although, you tried not to show it.

"Uhh, yeah i was actually planning to you know, not be here when you found it," was the response you got, as you noticed the slight deflate of Heeseung's chest, as he let out a breath neither of you knew he was keeping in.

"Thank you," you returned in a breathy voice, suppressing a chuckle from how awkward this situation had become.

The bell had suddenly gone off again, signifying only a few more minutes till the hallway you stood in would be filled with impatient pupils, eagerly navigating the area to acquire a good seating for their next lesson.

"I think it's time we go now," Heeseung said catching your attention and subsequently stopping you from viewing the letter — which you unknowingly already managed to open, any further.

But unluckily for Heeseung you had read far enough, your eyes and mind stuck on a certain three word phrase, i like you.

"You..." you trailed off at the end realizing you didn't know what to say in response to these word.

Sure, you had developed a small liking towards the boy who stood before you. But to have said boy confessing his own feelings towards you in such a endearing manner had you lost for words.

"Look, it's okay if you dont feel the same, im sorr-"

"I like you too," you interrupted him, a new feeling of confidence surging through your veins.

You didnt receive a verbal response after this, though you did get a giddy smile from Heeseung, who was now decked in pink cheeks and wide bambi eyes that looked down at you with fondness. And you returned his smile in a similar flushed state, as you watched him slowly step away as the area got crowded, once again.

Call me he mouthed, his big grin fading into a small smirk. You gave him an unsure look but it was obvious he was already expecting this as he only pointed downwards — to the envelope you held in hand.

And surely enough, at the back of the crumpled envelope, hastily written in black ink was a number paired with a signature, Lee Heeseung's signature.

ʚɞ ﾟ˖  sponsors @hyfenet @k-labels @en-web

© https://...woonova | 2023

[voregeoise]

A Hunger (prototype)

Happy vore day my fellow freaks(affectionate)! I made this for ya! It started off as just experimenting with tropes I hadn't messed with before.There should be another tale out today that's far less angsty. In the meantime, enjoy this longer tale!

(Posting this draft rn, just ignore that last part)

His name was Vall. He was a Vulcanite.

Compared to his human roommate he was an odd being. Tall, two sets of arms, a pair of antennae and golden eyes. The majority of his body was almost always cloaked by wing-like extremities that were covered in a dense layer of white fur, leaving only his head with its grey keratin shell poking out the top. They were thought to once have been used to scare predators away and look less threatening on the fly. To extend them to reveal multiple limbs and appear larger. Or keep them closed to look more amiable to friends and allies. His kind were also intelligent. It was their knowledge and technological prowess that took them and humans to the local moons of their world so quickly.

But most interesting of all was their ability to halt most bodily processes. They could stop beating their heart for up to five minutes, hold their breath for almost an hour, stop digestion at a moment's notice and halt most brain activity for several minutes. It's assumed these powers evolved to avoid detection from predators thousands of years ago, and simply stuck around even after they stopped being useful.

His human roommate was a nice fellow. He was a private man, he kept to himself, sometimes to his detriment. But he liked him. He was the only person he really connected with, he was nervous around other people. He was a very close friend. A little under six feet tall, tiny compared to him who stood just over fourteen feet tall. He worked at the same job as him, at an aerospace engineering firm. They had met years ago. And now shared they a home together. Their lives were good. Everything was fine, that was until he started having episodes.

He was sleeping when it first happened. He was awoken by an agonizing, gnawing hunger. It felt like had had been starved for weeks. He had eaten only a few hours ago. Why did he feel so hungry? It hurt terribly. He winced and groaned in agony. He tried not to cry, but the pain made in difficult to keep himself together. Thankfully this racket managed to wake his friend.

"Are you okay?"

"No! Fuck, that hurts. I need you to get me something to eat. Grab as much as you can hold and bring it to me!"

"What do you want?"

"I don't care damnit! I said to get me something to eat! Grab any-"

His yelling was cut off by him collapsing to the ground from a sudden intensification of the pain. He clutched his middle, writhing in agony. He heard his roommate run downstairs to the kitchen. A minute later he heard the door open and in walked his friend with as much food as he could carry. He picked himself up and made a beeline strait for him.

He snatched it out of his hands and scarfed it down. In only a minute or two he ate enough food to last him a few days. He didn't even chew. He couldn't wait that long, he needed to pain gone now.

When he finished eating he collected himself. What just happened? Why was he so hungry? What was wrong with him? He turned to his friend, he had a shocked look on his face. There was an awkward silence before either spoke.

"A-Are you okay?"

"No?"

"What happened?"

"I don't know! I just felt like I was starving."

"What do we do?"

"I-I think we should go to the hospital."

A speedy trip to the doctor gave few answers. They figured out that he wasn't actually starving, his brain just thought he was. They had no answer for why this happened, the only idea that they had was that it may have been a mental breakdown. But that didn't make sense, he was mentally well, happy and wasn't stressed. But that was their only idea. They didn't know what possibly could have happened. They could only hope it was one off.

It wasn't.

-------

Two months later it happened again. He was sprawled out on the couch a few feet from his friend. He was scrolling through social media when suddenly it struck. A stabbing pain, far, far worse then last time. It felt like hell. Thankfully his friend knew what was happening. Just like last time he ran to go grab something for him to eat. And just like last time he scarfed it down in only a minute. But it wasn't enough, he still felt like he was starving. The food barely numbed the pain enough for him to get up and run to the fridge himself. His roommate looked on in horror as he tore through everything in there.

--------

It was late. And they were out of food. They had had guests over last night. His roommate was supposed to go to the store but everything was closed. He'd go in the morning. But there was a little nervousness between them. It had been two months since the last episode. They were on borrowed time, but they only had to make it through the night. Surely they would be fine, right? What were the odds that an episode started tonight? Well, worryingly likely. They weren't sure he could make it through the night if one struck tonight. They just had to hope. But luck wasn't on their side tonight.

They were so close too. It struck early in the day, the sun wasn't even up yet. An agonized scream woke them up. They both instantly knew what was happening.

"Oh, oh no. Vall, there's nothing for you. It'll be thirty minutes until the stores open and it'll take another thirty minutes until I can bring your food home. Can you last an hour?"

"A-An hour?! I-I can't do that! There's got to be something! Anything!"

"We both know that there's no food. I can get you some painkillers if you think that might help."

Painkillers helped, but they didn't fix it. It was like putting a band-aid on a broken bone. He sat there for a few minutes, groaning in pain. Every second that passed he became more and more desperate. There had to be something! He could eat the houseplants, maybe he could take some food from the neighbors or he could eat hi-

He stopped that thought before it could finish. He could never. Eat him? He'd never do that, no matter how much it hurt. He wasn't a meal, he was a friend! How could he even dare think such a thing! That was too far.

A sudden increase in pain forced him to reconsider, or at least think about it.

Well, maybe he could? He'd be fine, right? He was probably big enough to get him down without hurting him. He wouldn't digest, he could stop his digestion process at will! He didn't need to digest him! His brain was lying to him! He just needed to eat something, anything. To hold him over until the stores opened and he could get some real food. Get something in his stomach. But to eat him?! He couldn't! He wouldn't!

But he was just so, so, hungry. He had to eat. He couldn't wait an hour. He wasn't sure if he could wait another minute. But did that really mean eating his best friend alive? He knew he shouldn't, but the agony in his middle was a good argument that maybe it wasn't the worst idea.

He turned to him, he was pacing the room. Just looking at him he felt hungrier. He looked so, appetizing. No, he tried to force those thoughts out of his mind. What was wrong with him? He felt shame flow through him, before it was drowned out by pain. He had to eat something. But this? Could he really bring himself to eat his friend? He'd known him for years, he was his only real friend! Could he really treat him like a meal? His conflictions were silenced by a gruesome agony. He had to, to make the pain go away.

He stood, it hurt worse then he could imagine. His friend seemed shocked that he could even bring himself to stand.

"Vall? What are you doing?"

He stepped towards him. He felt tears welling in his eyes. He didn't want to this, b-but it wouldn't hurt him right? H-He'd be f-fine in there. He slowly parted his cloak revealing two of his arms. He reached out for him and grabbed his shoulders.

"V-Vall? You're scaring me... What are you doing?"

"I-I'm so sorry about this."

"VALL?! What do you mean?!"

He lifted him until they were eye to eye. Was he really about to do this? I-It wasn't too late to put him down. A stabbing sensation in his stomach prevented him from stopping, he had to make the pain go away. He fully parted his cloak revealing his second set of arms. Fully stretched out his cloak reached end to end of the room. He looked almost angelic, but to his friend he must have looked like a demon to his friend. He reached out and grabbed his legs to stop him from struggling.

He could see the fear on his face, he felt terrible. B-But he wasn't in any danger! It'd only be a little while in there!

"W-What are you going to do?"

"Im just so hungry. P-please forgive me."

His friend who seemed so much smaller then usual stared him up and down, until his eyes went wide with shock as he realized what was about to happen to him.

"WAIT!! Vall no! Put me down, please! I can figure something out! I promise! Just please don't hurt me!"

"I-I'm not going to hurt you! You'll be fine! I-I promise! I'-Im just s-so hungry. Just p-please don't fight it!"

"Vall wai-"

He cut him off by shoving his head in his mouth. He could taste him, to his starved mind he was delicious. He never thought he would think that. He could feel him struggling, but he was no match for his size and strength. He pushed him further into his mouth and swallowed. He could feel his head lodged in his throat. He franticly tried to quickly gulp him down. He tilted his head into the air, slamming his friends legs into the ceiling. With his shoulders firmly pushed into his throat he was practically choking. He needed to get him down quick. He felt as more and more of him was crammed inside of him. He could hear him shouting something but couldn't make it out, he was too focused on his meal. Only a few seconds later the only part of his friend still outside of him was the tips of his feet, and in one more gulp, he was gone. Almost as quickly as it had started he was gone. Completely within him. He gasped for air. He took a few breaths and retracted his cloak once more. He let out a belch. He felt so full. But despite that, from the outside you would never guess what had just happened. His friend was entirely hidden by his cloak. The hunger was gone now, completely sated, he felt calm. For a moment that is.

Only a few seconds later the weight of his actions came crashing down on him. Had... had he really just done that?! Did he just eat his friend?! No... no, no! This had to be a dream of some kind! He was in denial, and he knew it. He felt movement inside him. As the weight of that feeling hit him, erything seemed to lose color, it felt like time was slowing around him. The intense feeling of shame, regret, disgust washed over him. He had just eaten him, alive. That thought rang through his head. What started as the slight sting in his eye quickly changed to complete sobbing. He was a monster! Why had he done this?! How could he?! He was a danger to the people around him! He didn't know what to do as those thoughts swirled violently through out his mind. He felt completely alone. Until he heard his friend speak.

"V-Vall? A-Am I going to be okay?"

"Y-Yes." He squeaked out between sobs.

"Why? Why did you do this? Why?!"

"I-I... I just... I-I.."

He felt him kick, the pain almost knocked him to the ground.

"Answer me Vall! Why did you do this?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!?!"

"P-please don't s-struggle."

"I'm going to struggle you freak! What the fuck Vall?! Spit me out!"

"I-I will.. Just p-please stop, i-it hurts when you kick."

He felt another kick. It knocked the wind out of him for a moment.

"I fucking hope it does! I was going to help you! And you pull this shit?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!?!"

He had no answer. He deserved the pain of his kicking and struggling. He just collapsed to the floor and started sobbing harder. He just wanted to shrivel up and die. Years of friendship and trust destroyed, all because he couldn't wait. Every time he felt him squirm or kick or struggle in there his demands for answers rang through his head louder and louder. He felt like a monster. He only wanted to say one thing.

"I-I'm so sorry."

He curreled up and tried to cloak his head too. He wanted to be hidden away from the world, so nobody else would know the horror that became of him. So he couldn't hurt anyone else. He laid there form a few minutes, crying to himself, regretting everything he had ever done. He barely even realized that his friend wasn't struggling anymore. He heard him speak up again, softer this time.

"Vall? It's okay. I'm sorry too."

"W-What do you mean? Why are you sorry? I did this!"

"Me screaming at you is only making you worse. Just, take your time to calm down, it's okay, I forgive you."

"Y-You... f-forgive.... me?"

"I do. You'd never hurt me. I trust that you did this for a reason."

He couldn't belive it. After everything he had done, he still forgave him. He could hear his friend's voice shake, he was still a little scared but he seemed to truly believe that he was safe. His mind seemed to calm a little, maybe they could work this out. He tried to collect himself, but it hard. It took a while to just get to a state where he wouldn't break down if he even thought about what he had done. Maybe now he could talk to his friend.

"A-Are you okay in there?"

"I'm fine, if a little cramped."

"Let's t-try and get you out."

"No, not yet, I have questions."

"What do you mean?"

"I want to know why. Why did you do this?"

He felt tears sting in his eyes once more, but he had to keep himself together, he owed him answers.

"I couldn't wait that long. It hurt, so, so much. I didn't want to do this, I just couldn't take the pain. I knew you be okay, you were never in danger, I just needed something, anything to hold me over until the stores opened."

"Well is it working?"

"Yes, it is." He responded shamefully.

"How long until the stores open?"

"Twenty minutes, but you won't have to be there that long, I'll get you out now, I can deal with the pain."

"No Vall, you can't. Well be right back at square one."

"What do you mean?"

"You clearly cannot deal with the pain."

"Well what's other option?"

"I could wait here for a while?"

"W-What?"

"I could stay here for bit, for you."

"W-Why would you want that?"

"It's not that bad in here, I don't mind staying here for some time if it means you aren't in so much pain."

"A-Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, why don't you try and relax in bed?"

Maybe he was right. Maybe he should just try and relax. They'd both been through a lot in only a few minutes. He picked himself up off the ground with some difficulty. It was a little challenging to maintain his balance, with the hundred and fifty pounds of extra weight in his abdomen. He made sure to carefully lower himself on to his bed, as to not disturb his friend. When he eventually laid back down he finally was able to fully relax, and only then could he really take in the sensations he was feeling.

He could make out every movement, squirm or shift his friend made. It was a strange feeling. But without the fear and regret from before, he almost, enjoyed it? It tickled a little. But it a good way. Like a soothing massage. He could feel his friends breathing. The steady rise and fall of his chest. He could feel the warmth of his friends body heat, it made him feel sort of cozy. He curiously pulled his cloak back to see where his friend was stored. It didn't look all that much different then normal, maybe a minor bulge on his belly but that was it. His friend was almost completely buried under so much him. He was so hidden, yet so close. Only a thin layer of flesh away was him. He hovered his hand over it, an intense desire to feel him. But something held him back for moment, nervousness perhaps? It didn't stop him for long, he gently touched his middle, and to his surprise he felt him touch back. He felt so close to him in that moment. Emotionally and physically.

He wondered what it was like for him, to be in his stomach. It couldn't hurt to ask, right?

"What's it like in there?"

"Blue, your stomach is a deep blue."

"It is?"

"So was your maw."

He look at the mirror in the room and opened his mouth. He was right, it was a deep rich blue. He had never really thought about it that much. It never really struck him as something notable, all members of his species had blue maws. But now, it was a comforting thought to know his friend surrounded by such a nice color.

"I ment, what's it feel like?"

"It's sort of soft and not too small."

"I thought you said it was cramped?"

"It's tight, but not in a bad way."

"Cozy?"

"l-l uh, wouldnt say that. Oh and wet, it is very wet in here."

"Is that bad?"

"Not really, I'm soaked but, I don't really mind. But I am going to need a towel once I'm out of here."

"I can get you that when you're out."

"Thank you."

--------

The sun was up, it had been up for a few hours now. The stores had open a long time ago, but neither of them brought it up, he wondered why he hadn't spoken up yet, but he didn't mind, he enjoyed him being in there. But they couldn't sit here forever, they eventually had to get something for him to really eat. Eventually his roommate floated the question.

"So, how about we think about getting you something to really eat."

"Do you want to run out to the store?"

"It'll still take a while to get there, grab the food and get it back to you. I think you should get it."

"What? I should go out, IN PUBLIC, with you in there? Are you serious?"

"Am I really that noticeable? Am I not hidden by your cloak?"

He did have a point, he looked no different then usual from the outside. But to go out and interact with people, in this state. He was terrible with people normally, he couldn't imagine trying to talk to someone with another, living, breathing being inside of him. Just thinking about it made him nervous. But he really didn't want to deal with the pain a second longer than he had to.

"No" he begrudgingly admitted.

"You can get your food, come home, spit me out and eat some real food."

"But what if somebody asks why I'm walking funny? What if somebody notices the little bulge when I'm holding things?"

"Just.... say you had a good meal or something, I highly doubt anyone will immediately assume you ate somebody."

"You do have a point."

"See? You'll only be out for half an hour. If for whatever reason somebody finds out, you can pin all the blame on me."

He felt calmer, maybe he could. Maybe he could go out and get his food like this.

A few minutes later he was waiting at a bus stop. There was a few more people waiting too. All humans, his kind were vastly out numbered by humans. There was about a hundred humans for every Vulcanite. He stood out. He tried his best to keep his cool. Nobody seemed to notice his anxious behavior. Only a few minutes later the bus arrived. He ducked his head as he stepped on. While modern infrastructure was designed for both humans and Vulcanites, but it was hard to make everything suitable for such large beings.

He wondered if he should sit down or stand on the bus, if he sat it would draw less attention but it would be uncomfortable for his friend, but, if he stood people might notice his.... meal. No, he was over thinking this. Nobody would notice if he stood.

Ten minutes later he ducked his head once more as he stepped of the bus. He was here. When he walked about. He made sure to grab twice the food he'd normally get. He knew that he would eat a lot once they got home, so he should make sure they had more food after he was done. He was shocked to see that no one took notice of him. Well not entirely, he occasionally got a few curious looks from people who didn't see Vulcanites much. He didn't mind though. He understood that humans were very curious beings.

When he grabbed everything he'd need he made his way to the check out. He recognized one of the cashiers. Anne. She was one of the guests they'd had over just yesterday. He looked down at his stomach. The ones that had eaten the last of their food, the ones that had driven him to eat his friend. He didn't mind. He was almost glad that they had run out of food. It had led him to this unique experience.

He made his way over to her and put his groceries next to her.

"Oh! Vall it's you!"

"Y-yeah, it's me."

"Sorry for eating the last of your food."

He awkwardly chuckled.

"It's alright, no harm done."

"Thank you, say where's your roommate? I usually see him here, never you."

He panicked to think of an excuse. She'd be surprised to realise he was here too.

"Oh! He's... he's uh... working today! They're having issues at Helios! They needed him."

She seemed to notice his stuttering language. But she didn't push it.

"Okay... If you say so."

He quickly picked up his food and left. Even though it was minor, the exchange between him and Anne left his heart pounding, his brain had already run through all the ways he could slip up. But he made it. He walked home carrying well over a dozen large bags of food. It was a little hard to hold so much in all four hands and keep his middle hidden. But he managed.

---------

He opened to door and placed the bags on the kitchen table. He prepared himself to spit his friend out and immediately scarf down the food he had bought. No wait, he should grab a towel for his friend. He walked back downstairs and tosses the towel on the table, only then did he notice that he hadn't heard or felt his friend since he left the house. He prodded at his stomach.

"Are you alright?"

"Huh? Oh... yeah I'm fine. I just fell asleep."

"Asleep?"

"Yeah? I fell asleep. Is that an issue?"

"No, it's just, a little surprising to hear that you actually fell asleep in there. It it actually that comfortable?"

"Oh, it's, umm, alright I guess, it's not uncomfortable. Nevermind it, did you get your food?"

"Yeah, nobody noticed. I also saw Anne. She asked where you were."

"Well what did you say?"

"I told her that Helios needed you."

"Did she buy it?"

"Not entirely. She definitely knew something was up but she didn't ask. Anyway, are you ready to come out?"

"Yeah, I'm ready."

"Alright, just give me a moment."

It was at that moment he realized something. How does he make himself vomit? Could he just.... push him back up? He lodged all of his hands under the slight bulge in his middle, and pushed. It made him feel sick. But that was good. After a bit he felt him be forced back up into his throat. He felt him reach his arm up until he felt it pop back into his mouth. He quickly used two his hands to reach into his maw and grab him. It was tough to keep his grip, his hand was covered in drool. But he managed to hold on and pull him out. He felt him be dragged out of him until he was holding him in the air. He was a mess, utterly soaked in saliva. He gently put him back on the ground and handed him the towel. Only then did the hunger come back. He immediately started devouring the food around him. Only a few minutes later he felt full. He took a few deep breaths. The episode was over. Finally. He turned to his friend. He didn't seem to mind the view of his gluttony. He was too busy cleaning himself off.

---------

The sun was gone now. The unusual day they'd had was still on both of their mind. But neither showed it. They hadn't talked about it, all day. The were getting ready to go to bed. His roommate was watching a documentary on his phone in bed. And he was sat at his desk, next to the mirror, reading a novel. He heard his roommate speak.

"Are we not going to talk about what happened today?"

"Why? Is there something you want to say?"

"Well..."

He saw a look of nervousness on his face. Almost like he regretted asking. What was on his mind? Did he... enjoy his time? He assumed he might have enjoyed it. Perhaps he was a little embarrassed to admit it.

"Did you like it in there?"

"N-no!" He snapped back.

He smiled, that was it. He turned to him.

"Did you enjoy it? It's fine if you did."

"I..."

He seemed reluctant to admit it. He knew it would a little odd to say you enjoyed you're time in somebody's stomach. He didn't mind, he had enjoyed it too.

"You did, didn't you. I don't mind, I liked it too."

"Well..."

"Are you not going to admit it?"

"Maybe a bit..."

Ha! He had his answer. But there still seemed to be something on his mind. He knew him, he wouldn't admit something like this without a little... "encouragement" He had an idea. Maybe he could push him a little, it might get him to admit whatever was bothering him.

"Awww, are you upset you had to leave?"

"N-no!"

"Don't worry, you can tell me."

"....a little...."

He got up out of the chair and walk towards him. He had an idea that he might like.

"Say... Maybe you could help me during episodes, hold me over for a while, like today?"

He showed a toothy smile to signal what he was implying. He saw his friend squirm a little.

"I-If you w-want to..."

"Both of us know you want to, that's what bugging you, just admit you want to get eaten again."

"Fine. I had a good time. I wouldnt mind helping you through episodes by doing... that."

He reached out and ruffled his hair.

"Good to hear."

He walked back to his bed, and laid down. He looked at his friend, laying in bed, trying to continue his documentary. But he could see him turning to look at him every now and then. He quickly turned his head back to his phone when he noticed him staring at him. He felt a smile cover his face. He almost looked forward to the next episode. He rolled over to face the wall. He thought about the way he had teased his friend. It was oddly... fun? Just to playfully mess with him a little. He had never really done something like that. He normally didn't have enough confidence to talk like that, but after today, he felt a little more sure of himself.

He fell asleep with a smile on his face.

[dawnfelagund]

How to Block AI Bots from Scraping Your Website

The Silmarillion Writers' Guild just recently opened its draft AI policy for comment, and one thing people wanted was for us, if possible, to block AI bots from scraping the SWG website. Twelve hours ago, I had no idea if it was possible! But I spent a few hours today researching the subject, and the SWG site is now much more locked down against AI bots than it was this time yesterday.

I know I am not the only person with a website or blog or portfolio online that doesn't want their content being used to train AI. So I thought I'd put together what I learned today in hopes that it might help others.

First, two important points:

I am not an IT professional. I am a middle-school humanities teacher with degrees in psychology, teaching, and humanities. I'm self-taught where building and maintaining websites is concerned. In other words, I'm not an expert but simply passing on what I learned during my research today.

On that note, I can't help with troubleshooting on your own site or project. I wouldn't even have been able to do everything here on my own for the SWG, but thankfully my co-admin Russandol has much more tech knowledge than me and picked up where I got lost.

Step 1: Block AI Bots Using Robots.txt

If you don't even know what this is, start here:

About /robots.txt

How to write and submit a robots.txt file

If you know how to find (or create) the robots.txt file for your website, you're going to add the following lines of code to the file. (Source: DataDome, How ChatGPT & OpenAI Might Use Your Content, Now & in the Future)

User-agent: CCBot Disallow: /

AND

User-agent: ChatGPT-User Disallow: /

Step Two: Add HTTPS Headers/Meta Tags

Unfortunately, not all bots respond to robots.txt. Img2dataset is one that recently gained some notoriety when a site owner posted in its issue queue after the bot brought his site down, asking that the bot be opt-in or at least respect robots.txt. He received a rather rude reply from the img2dataset developer. It's covered in Vice's An AI Scraping Tool Is Overwhelming Websites with Traffic.

Img2dataset requires a header tag to keep it away. (Not surprisingly, this is often a more complicated task than updating a robots.txt file. I don't think that's accidental. This is where I got stuck today in working on my Drupal site.) The header tags are "noai" and "noimageai." These function like the more familiar "noindex" and "nofollow" meta tags. When Russa and I were researching this today, we did not find a lot of information on "noai" or "noimageai," so I suspect they are very new. We used the procedure for adding "noindex" or "nofollow" and swapped in "noai" and "noimageai," and it worked for us.

Header meta tags are the same strategy DeviantArt is using to allow artists to opt out of AI scraping; artist Aimee Cozza has more in What Is DeviantArt's New "noai" and "noimageai" Meta Tag and How to Install It. Aimee's blog also has directions for how to use this strategy on WordPress, SquareSpace, Weebly, and Wix sites.

In my research today, I discovered that some webhosts provide tools for adding this code to your header through a form on the site. Check your host's knowledge base to see if you have that option.

You can also use .htaccess or add the tag directly into the HTML in the <head> section. .htaccess makes sense if you want to use the "noai" and "noimageai" tag across your entire site. The HTML solution makes sense if you want to exclude AI crawlers from specific pages.

Here are some resources on how to do this for "noindex" and "nofollow"; just swap in "noai" and "noimageai":

HubSpot, Using Noindex, Nofollow HTML Metatags: How to Tell Google Not to Index a Page in Search (very comprehensive and covers both the .htaccess and HTML solutions)

Google Search Documentation, Block Search Indexing with noindex (both .htaccess and HTML)

AngryStudio, Add noindex and nofollow to Whole Website Using htaccess

Perficient, How to Implement a NoIndex Tag (HTML)

Finally, all of this is contingent on web scrapers following the rules and etiquette of the web. As we know, many do not. Sprinkled amid the many articles I read today on blocking AI scrapers were articles on how to override blocks when scraping the web.

This will also, I suspect, be something of a game of whack-a-mole. As the img2dataset case illustrates, the previous etiquette around robots.txt was ignored in favor of a more complicated opt-out, one that many site owners either won't be aware of or won't have time/skill to implement. I would not be surprised, as the "noai" and "noimageai" tags gain traction, to see bots demanding that site owners jump through a new, different, higher, and possibly fiery hoop in order to protect the content on their sites from AI scraping. These folks serve to make a lot of money off this, which doesn't inspire me with confidence that withholding our work from their grubby hands will be an endeavor that they make easy for us.

[stillness-in-green]

On Chapter Posts (and What Comes After)

Just a heads-up to everyone that, at least for the time being, I’m putting the chapter posts on moratorium.  I’ve been far more critical than not for months on end, and while I do get some satisfaction out of the venting, it’s just gotten more mentally demanding than it’s worth.  Compliments are easy and fun to write!  I always end up feeling like I have to do more writing to support negativity, however, providing enough explanation to support my complaints, and often going even further to anticipate and preemptively counter responses.

That big slab of nitpicking sits at the top of my to-do list week-in and week-out, a responsibility to keep on top of lest I fall behind, pushing answering asks and working on other projects behind it, and with the chapters of late having become incredibly demotivating, not getting them done means I get nothing done.  It certainly doesn’t help that Horikoshi’s writing has become so dependent on fake-outs, asspulls, retcons, and purposefully misleading cliffhangers, all of which make it unrewarding in the extreme to put effort and thought into meaningful analysis on a chapter-by-chapter basis.

I apologize to anyone who was really enjoying them—I’ve had a number of people tell me they love my meticulous breakdowns, and I’m forever grateful that my anal-retentiveness has found some like minds!  That said, please don’t fear that I’m out of the BNHA analysis game entirely!  I’d just rather focus my attention on larger-scale material, subjects that require analyzing the work as a whole, rather than the week-to-week grind.

First up will be clearing out my ask backlog—not, I think, a terribly burdensome prospect this time—as well as give the Mina fan the answer I promised them months ago to their last reply in our series of lengthy exchanges about Chapter 383.

Afterwards, my current and wishlist projects include:

Below the jump, I've compiled a list of my projects, meta and fanfic alike.  Feel free to skim through if you’re interested in what the chapter posts have been keeping me away from!

Meta Projects:

An absolutely massive documentation of heteromorphobia in the main series and Vigilantes that I’ve been erratically working on since March of last year—41 pages and I’m still only at the beginning of the war arc!  I’ve been trying to decide if I want to just start posting this in arc-length breakdowns or finish the whole thing first for optimal organization and presentation, though I suppose I could do the former on tumblr and the latter on AO3. Anyone have a preference?    

The much-delayed essay laying out the evidence for the possession plot with AFO and Shigaraki not being the originally intended endgame for those characters, at least not in the form it wound up taking.  Currently six pages, this one is still mostly bullet points; it also hasn’t been updated to reflect some of the more recent wild inconsistencies.  I’d like to give the series time to wrap up whatever it’s going to do with AFO before I publish this one, in case of eleventh hour reveals, but there’s certainly a lot of draft work I could be doing in the meantime.    

Some follow-up/companion pieces to my MVA In Memoriam series.  I’d like to go back to the PLF Spotting posts, which were intended to run through the anime’s treatment of the PLF in the war arc, and I’ve also been compiling points for a schadenfreude-y post on the dazzling variety of ways the anime’s butchering of MVA has complicated its own future as an adaptation.  This would cover things like the anime having to hastily jam in the CRC scene as a flashback because, whoops, it turns out heteromorphobia is going to play a major role in the climax, or the whole-hog deletion of Curious talking about quirk counseling, given that Horikoshi would later directly depict how said counseling exacerbated the psychological abuse Toga was already facing from her parents.    

An essay I promised an anon last year about my perception of the MLA’s ideology.  I’m salty about what the lazy, rushed writing in the final arc has reduced my favorite villain group in the manga to, however, so at this point, I want to do two things with this piece.  First, analyze why the MLA's current portrayal is so problematic*—what they say doesn’t even match up with who they are and how they act now, much less in their MVA portrayal!  Second, discuss how I write them, extrapolating from the non-caricatured aspects of their portrayal with the intent of offering a version of the MLA who are still extremist, cultish villains but who are allowed to have some proper nuance, and an ideology that’s actually consistent with their history, their tactics, and their MVA-era characterization.    

A number of shorter fancies and trifles that I’ve thought about and taken a few notes on, but have never gotten around to fully drafting:      o A post on how heroes and villains respectively engage with dramatic unmaskings.      o A post on directionality of movement in visual media, highlighting some particularly interesting examples in BNHA to discuss what those examples indicate about the characters’ mentalities and the narrative’s silent, implicit judgement thereof.      o A post on how frustrating it’s been to see all of Toga’s powers and abilities get retroactively leashed to—and limited by—her girly love-love emotions.      o A post on the chronic underestimation of Shigaraki Tomura and the woes it consistently leads to.      o A post or two analyzing the final beats of each chapter in the War Arcs with the aim of critiquing the way the series undermines the threat presented by the villains during said arcs.

   

Fanfic Projects:

On the fanfic side, it’s been frustrating me for months now that I haven’t written a substantial piece of non-prompt-driven fanfic for BNHA since January of last year, and even that's being generous with the word "substantial." Before that, I'd have to go all the way back to 2020 to find a non-prompt-based fic with a distinct beginning/middle/end. Suffice to say I’ve got lots of projects on that front!

While the rest of these are all BNHA fic, I do have a Gundam IBO fic I'm, like, two-thirds finished with the final chapter of that I badly want to finally, finally finish. It's basically down to an awkward conversation or two and a pair of wedding vows I've consigned myself to writing by virtue of drawing attention to them in the preceding chapters, RIP.    

The perpetually languishing Obon fic, in which Re-Destro has a lot of feelings he is taking care not to examine too closely about his ancestors. Six thousand words and not even halfway finished.    

The self-indulgent ShigRD mermaid fic, which has a number of cheerleaders in my friend circle and also my id.    

Finish the MLA May AUs.    

I'd like to circle back and write something for those last three days of Spinaraki Week Level 3 I never got to.    

Brainstorming two distinct massive fix-it fic AUs I would at least like to draft some solid outlines for, even as it's unlikely I'll ever have the patience to write all the scenes about the kids they'd require.      o "Forward Different" (the current name on the OneNote tab) would start from the first war arc, being faithful to the canon up to that point, but with major and minor changes that ripple outward to take the story farther and farther from canon the longer it progresses.  (In that story: the MLA not folding like a bad hand in the raids, a Lady Nagant who's true to her professed hatred of empty platitudes, OFA being less of a perfectly good pushover, etc.)      o "Backward Different" would also start from the first war arc, but things would drastically diverge almost immediately because of a number of strategically placed changes to prior events and character motivations; these would be wildcards to be uncovered or deduced as the story progresses.  (In that story: Aoyama was revealed as the traitor all the way back at the training camp, cast members who actually matter turn out to be MLA, OFA is less of a perfectly good pushover, etc.)      

I also have a number of deeply backburnery ideas, still more in the category of "idea" than project, that I could to move to more active project status.      o The one where my might-as-well-call-them-my-MLA-fancharacter has to team up with Toga post-Jakku and travel across a rapidly unraveling Japan in order to meet back up safely with their allies.      o The one where I use an OC detective to examine the official response to the Shimura massacre, and how it got squashed.      o The Kotarou Lives AU, in which Kotarou survives said massacre. Look, gang, I just really want to write about AFO gleefully and aggressively coming on to Shimura Nana's deliciously bitter, traumatized, handsome, ignorant son. I also really like my idea for a lead-in/stinger on this one.      o The one where Geten busts himself and his allies out of prison, be it the canon-verse story with his now-confirmed cell neighbor Mr. Compress or the teenaged AU where he gets thrown in the same high-security juvie Mustard is in.

And that's about all I can dig up out of my notes at the moment. Let me know if there's anything you guys are particularly interested in, though priority is likely to go to shorter or more fully developed projects. Thanks for reading!

(* In the academic sense, not the moral one.)

[alexanderlightweight]

Hey can I ask something?

If you prefer to answer this in private message that's really fine, but it seemed somehow rude to send it to you in PM 🤔.

Quite a while ago (could be months really, live has been quite hectic for me lately) I sent you an ask about 2 songs I felt suited Magnus' and Alec's POV respectively for quite a few of your 'verses. It wasn't necessarily meant as a prompt but I had been curious about your opinion on them.

you never seemed to have posted about it and now I was wondering if tumblr ate my ask or if something in the ask itself brought up something bad for you (just so I can avoid that in the future) or if perhaps it's a third option I hadn't even thought of ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

either way, thanks for all your glorious writing work! it's a thing of beauty (aka to me it's a joy forever!)

hey!

so you're absolutely okay asking and i'll answer publically because i have like a dozen song prompts in my inbox and drafts and I'm sure there are others curious but jsyk, it's okay to send a pm asking stuff. i don't find it rude cause i know from experience that sometimes its less nerve racking than sending an ask

i know its different for everyone but just putting it out there ^_^

so music is really hit or miss for me. i'll listen to the same playlists and artists for a couple years without expanding because the sensory input of new songs can be a little much. i don't really have a way to vet whether or not the music will be too much for me and things have been so busy and (noisy and loud and overwhelming) that i haven't really tried to listen to new music in a couple of months.

@saryn-prime has to listen to a lot of their music on headphones instead of n speakers and oftentimes i'll listen to the same song on repeat for hours. if i'm overstimulated even a song i love can set off a migraine and certain tunes or tempos can send my mood spiraling, rising or plummeting without my say so

so (especially when i want to actually kind of really explore a song and give it a chance and also enjoy it in regards to malec or writing) i'm saving like the dozen songs for when i have the spoons to process and possibly enjoy the songs.

Saeth turned on music earlier and i lasted two songs before i was asking them to turn it to safe playlist (which they immiedately did).

btw i love getting music and song reccomendations in regards to malec and shadowhunters or in general. i've been inspired for some really fun fics and ideas, but atm my brain isn't up to that kind of processing :/

pray to the hunters i like to write with the song playing in the background but i cant currently handle the tempo/voices/percussion mix so i haven't been writing or playing it

so i have them and probably in a few weeks or a month my brain will be back to processing music appropriately and i can enjoy the songs shared with me

i hope this makes sense

<3 lumine

[sometimesdesperate]

No idea why I left this in my drafts but here's an old thing I wrote ages ago and never posted:

Thinking some thoughts about subby headspace vs. aroused headspace.

Sometimes they go hand in hand. Being turned on can sometimes help me sink further into submission, being in that subby headspace is sometimes arousing in its own right. But they also stand on their own and interact in interesting ways.

Example/why I'm thinking (and rambling) about this: Today I had a good opportunity to do some teasing, and I really wanted to. I decided to pull my nipple clamps out and wear them while I touched, as a little extra. It was full on horny brain right up until I actually got in position to touch.

I put the clamps on and then got in my favorite position: on my knees, my face pressed against the floor/mattress, usually with one hand tucked up near my chin, the other between my legs. And I dunno, maybe because I was suddenly very much aware of the fact that I only get to touch because I have permission, or maybe the pain in my nipples, maybe the position, probably as a result of a mix of all of it, I was very suddenly in subby headspace. Like a switch flipped.

I still wanted to touch, I was still turned on. But subby brain won out. No touching, I stayed there in that position, with the clamps on (minus circulation breaks) for almost an hour.

It was a bit like a meditation. Mostly I was thinking about submission. I started out, I was thinking about how touching wasn't my choice, and how long it's been since it was, and how much I prefer it this way. Surprisingly, I didn't think about how long it's been since I've had an orgasm. I actually half dozed off a few times, even with the clamps on (which is why setting timers for circulation breaks is important!) because I was so... Relaxed I guess. It just felt better and more right than touching.

When I was done, yeah, I was more aroused than I was before. But that was secondary.

[codynaomiswireart]

“Gauze in the Wound” - Part 25, Preview

Hello Tumblr! It’s been a long while!

It’s hard to believe it’s been about five years since I started my “Gauze in the Wound” fic. I wish I had it completed ages ago, but other things in life have had to take priority, and, to be honest, with TTS/RTA itself having wrapped production, a lot of the drive to write fan fiction pieces for it has waned on and off in me during the couple years following its finale. (Plus getting locked out of my Tumblr account for a time didn’t help either.  xP)

However, I’m still very fond of the series, and I do want to bring this piece to a conclusion. So, while I don’t have this next chapter fully finished, I did want to post this preview of chapter 25, as a sort of Advent present for anyone still wanting to read the story! Thank you for your patience! This has been a great fandom to be a part of, and I miss the days of geeking out over new episodes and coming up with theories for what was in store next!

I hope you’re all doing well, and are looking forward to a wonderful Christmas season!

All the best, ~ Cody

AS ALWAYS, THIS PREVIEW IS SUBJECT TO CHANGE BEFORE THE FINAL DRAFT!

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

"Forgiveness is the name of love practiced among people who love poorly. The hard truth is that all people love poorly. We need to forgive and be forgiven every day, every hour increasingly. That is the great work of love among the fellowship of the weak that is the human family." ~ Henri Nouwen

“Love is not affectionate feeling, but a steady wish for the loved person's ultimate good as far as it can be obtained.”  ~ C. S. Lewis

“I closed me eyes, I couldn’t see And now I’ve lost all I could be I disappeared, faded away Gave up my world, but now I pray, ‘Give me a chance to mend Let it begin, don’t let it end!’

I wanna live again! I wanna live again! If I could go back then I’d do it all again One day I’m gonna die But I’ll put up a fight till then If I could live again I wanna live again!

When things got hard, I lost control I’d take it back with all my soul Here in this hell, it’s sinkin’ in The slice of heaven I was livin’ in Give me the chance to start Breathin’ it in with all of my heart!

I wanna live again! I wanna live again! If I could go back then I’d do it all again One day I’m gonna die But I’ll put up a fight till then If I could live again I wanna live again…!”

~ “Live Again” by Jeremy Jordan

---------

“I am Lord Demanitus…”

Of course, at these words, Varian immediately thought of when Zhan Tiri had fooled him with his own lies about being Lord Demanitus. Varian shook his head, certain that Zhan Tiri was just feeding him more illusions. He couldn’t trust this man!

“No!” Varian yelped, taking a step back, feeling the light of the silver people grow more intense behind him as he did so. It made a shudder run up his spine, but the figures behind him didn’t seem at all alarmed as Varian continued to cry out. “D-don’t try this with me again Zhan Tiri! I know it’s you! Y-you’re not going to take me in again, you hear!? I won’t let you!”

But the man only smiled sympathetically before calmly removing one of his gloves. He then held up his bare hand, the back of it glowing with a mark emblazoned upon it. It was the same mark that Varian had seen decorating several of his father’s things that he’d left behind after…after being sealed in the amber – a circle with three marks slashed across one side.

“I understand, Varian,” the man said gently. “But hear me, my son, and know the truth.”

Varian could see the mark on the back of the man’s hand begin to glow brighter and the blue streak in Varian’s hair also lit up in tandem. He heard in his mind the resonance of bright, silvery tones ringing out in beautiful harmony together; quite the opposite to the dull, lulling, droning thrum he’d heard from Zhan Tiri’s magic before.

Somehow, in that moment, Varian knew the truth in the man’s words.

This really WAS Lord Demanitus! Somehow, against all odds and all logic, it was him!

…And he was also one of Varian’s distant relatives!

[“Ab herede Demanitus… “Heir of Demanitus…”]

Seeing the look of realization dawn in Varian’s eyes, Demanitus withdrew his hand, and redonned his glove.

“But I…I don’t understand,” Varian said in a small voice, again conscious of the legions of people surrounding him as he hugged his arms round himself. “What’s going on? Why are you here? Why are-?” Varian swallowed, casting his eyes downward. “Why are you all here? Am-am I just seeing things? Have I gone crazy? I mean, aren’t you all…?”

“Dead?” Demanitus said, finishing Varian’s sentence. Varian bit his bottom lip in response, lowered his eyes again, and conceded a small nod, nervous about offending those standing around him. Perhaps the dead didn’t like to be reminded of the fact.

“Do not be afraid Varian,” Lord Demanitus repeated, laying a steadying hand on the boy’s shoulder. “All this… Well, it isn’t quite what you think it is.”

Varian glanced up at the man, confusion written all over his face.

“Do you remember, Varian, how Zhan Tiri told you that the Moon Drop can alter time and space?”

Varian paused, then nodded again.

“In that much, at least, he told you the truth. What you are seeing now is one such warp that the Moon Drop can conjure. That is, it is allowing you to see that which your brain can process regarding the light your ancestors left among the stars.”

Varian stared up at the man, still clearly confused. “What are you talking about?”

“We live deep within the past every day, Varian,” Demanitus continued, directing Varian’s attention to the night sky above them. “Whenever you look up at the stars, you are seeing – in one sense – millions to billions of years into the past, with eons more still on the way. The light that enters your eyes in that moment traveled multiple lifetimes to reach you. And if any living soul out there in the vastness of space could look back at our little marble of Earth, they too would see light that traveled millions of years to reach them from our world. Every passing moment of every day, we choose that which becomes imprinted upon the fabric of space and time, extending outwards for millenia. Every moment, we determine what becomes written among the stars. You can see it here now, as the Moon Drop has pulled from the lives of your ancestors – that is, the record of their lives cast out into the heavens by their light while they still walked the planet – and have made them manifest to your consciousness in a way that you could perceive.”

“…S-so, they’re not…?” Varian swallowed, now glancing at those around him. “Y-you’re not all, er, ghosts then?”

Many of the figures around him laughed (though not a mocking laugh), which rang about Varian with bright, joyful tones – quite different from the mournful moans and wails Varian would’ve expected before this moment. Varian then remembered his own appearance in comparision with them – remembering who the real “ghost” was in this situation – and again hunched his shoulders in embarrassment.

“No, Varian,” One of the nearby figures said, drawing Varian’s attention to her. As the silver lady came close, Varian perceived her as being a great-grandparent on his mother’s side – Thyra, her name was. Despite her having lived to a ripe old age, her appearance didn’t strike Varian as being of any particular age; as if all the moments of her life manifested into one appearance made her somehow as youthful as Varian, yet her face also somehow carried with it the wisdom and experience of old age. Again, Varian realized how he hadn’t thought much about his past relatives before this moment, and it made him shy to be in her presence as she knelt down by him.

“We are not ghosts. The Moonstone can reveal many things, perhaps even glimpses beyond the veil of the mortal plane. But even then, anything seen beyond just a glimpse would completely overwhelm your mortal senses. What you see now are merely shadows of the past, made manifest to you by the Moon Drop so that we may help you.”

“So that you might…help me?” Varian asked, suddenly remembering the situation he had been in before blacking out. Zhan Tiri had a hold of him, Xavier had been captured as well, and any help that may have been possible from the Captain and the guards was blocked from any advance. Varian lowered his eyes again.

“What is the matter?” Demanitus asked invitingly, giving Varian’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

“How?” Varian murmured, feeling his heart break all over again. “How is any of this supposed to help me? I can’t- I’m useless back there! And we’re just wasting our time again! Zhan Tiri’s going to-!”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Varian,” another figure interrupted.  “Time… works a bit differently here. You’ll be able to prepare for the coming fight well enough. That is, if you so choose.”

“‘If I choose?’” Varian repeated back, feeling borth a flare of hope and caution spark in his chest. “You mean… there’s still a way to stop Zhan Tiri!?”

“Indeed,” Demanitus replied with a nod.

Varian’s eyes widened, and he found himself grasping the man’s shoulders in urgency, in hope. “Please, Demanitus! Tell me what I have to do!”

“I will tell you, my son,” Demanitus said, his expression both pleased with Varian’s response, but also now shifting to seriousness. “The only way to stop Zhan Tiri now is to release his grasp on you; to release his grasp on your heart.”

At these words, Varian brought one hand to clutch at the fabric of his shirt over his heart where he’d felt Zhan Tiri’s horrible squeezing and tugging before. He nodded. “R-right. So… how do we get him to let go of me?”

“I’m afraid,” Lord Demanitus continued, “it’s not a matter of Zhan Tiri letting go of you now, Varian, but of you letting go of Zhan Tiri.”

“What!?” Varian yelped in disbelief, releasing Demanitus’s shoulders. “W-what’re you talking about? Z-Zhan Tiri’s the one holding onto me!”

But Demanitus shook his head (though not unsympathetically). “You are forgetting, my son. The truth is, Zhan Tiri would have no foothold inside of you if you did not allow him to. The tether runs both ways.”

Varian stared back at the man – offended, bewildered – and opened his mouth to retort him. How dare this man have the gaul to suggest such a thing! Did he not see how hard Varian had been fighting against Zhan Tiri just now!? What could possibly make him think that Varian-!?

But then, Varian did remember. He remembered taking Zhan Tiri’s bonding serum, and the feelings of hatred, revenge, guilt, shame and anger that the demon conjured from him whenever the boy would try to stray from what the demon wanted him to do. To be fair, Varian had tried to say no. He had tried very hard in fact. But the feelings, the memories, the hurt kept coming back. Even if Varian tried not to think about it himself, Zhan Tiri made sure he didn’t forget. He kept Varian stuck there, replaying again and again all those things that made him so angry, so saddened, so self-justified, yet also so hopeless in his feelings.

Varian winced as he felt another tug at his heart at these thoughts; the tug of the invisible chain that kept him tethered to it all. It hurt, yet Varian also felt justified in its existence. He didn’t like it… but he also found he didn’t want to get rid of it. This realization startled him, and Varian found the need to run his hands through his hair, and take a deep breath.

“Then… what do I do?” Varian managed to croak out in a small voice. “If I can’t let this go, what hope is there?”

“Exactly!” Demanitus replied, and Varian wondered how the man could sound almost triumphant at these words. Perhaps Varian had gone mad, or Lord Demanitus had. It suddenly struck Varian with the horrible possibility that perhaps the benevolent alchemist of old wasn’t as benevolent as the stories made him out to be. Varian closed his hands into frustrated fists as he looked up at Demanitus in utter bewilderment.

“Listen, Varian…” Demanitus continued gently, kneeling down to Varian’s level and clasping Varian’s hands in his own. As he did so, some of the silver people placed their hands upon Demanitus’s shoulders, and those closest to Varian placing their hands upon his shoulders. Those further away opted to place their hands on the shoulders of the silver people in front of them, until they were all connected in a vast framework of sorts. Varian shut his eyes as he felt their touch, and only fear kept him from trying to shove them away as he felt the magic inside him respond to the network that formed around him; a chorus of soft, angelic tones beginning to ring just on the edge of his hearing as it did so.

“There is still hope,” Varian heard Demanitus say to him, as he could see the light of the silver people grew brighter around him from behind his closed eyelids. “It will be hard,” Demanitus continued. “In some ways, it won’t fair. I may even involve a kind of death for you. But you do have the power to change things, my son – to open up the future to possibilities for yourself, and for others as well, and to be free from Zhan Tiri’s grasp.”

“But how?” Varian asked, feeling the tightness around his heart again as he squeezed Demanitus’s hands back in tandem.

“You must forgive,” answered a chorus of voices both outside Varian and inside his mind. He flinched at it. One reason was from the sensation of again encountering such a large company of voices, like on the night his powers first awoke inside of him.

The other reason was… well, frankly, he didn’t like the answer.

“Forgive?” Varian asked tersely, and with a hollow laugh, his frustration reaching its height now. For a moment, Varian did try to contain his inner thoughts and emotions on this point, especially in front of the celestial court that had turned its attention to him. But somewhere in the company around him, Varian felt a coaxing for him to share more, and before he could think to stop himself, he found himself crying out. “How!? How can I forgive what they did to me? What theydidn’t do for me? Old Corona is gone, and if-if Dad is dead, it’s all their fault!”

“It’s all their fault!”

Varian started, his eyes snapping open as he heard the voice shout in chorus with his.

But- wait, where’d everyone go!?

Varian looked about him. Demanitus and the silver people around him had vanished, and he was now not on the Celestial Plain, but in a dark corridor, lit by dim torchlight.

And yet… Varian thought he could still sense the presence of Demanitus and the others nearby. If he let himself focus long enough, he thought he could even still feel Demanitus’s hands holding his own. But what was-?

“Those traitors!” the voice came again, Varian immediately turning his attention back to it. Cautiously, Varian went and peered through the doorway at the end of the cooridor where the voice had sounded from. What Varian saw was a crowd of people, all assembled in a large chamber, wearing hooded cloaks, and the speaker standing upon a central platform.

“Hear me, sons and daughters of Saporia!” the speaker shouted. “Are we not obligated to seek payment for the blood of our fallen brethren? Our queen and her cohorts have spat upon their graves and brought dishonor to their struggle – surrendering our cause just as the hour of victory was upon us!”

A series of outraged shouts and curses rang through the hall at the man’s words.

“But we will not forget!” the man continued. “We will not allow our brethren’s sacrifice to be in vain! For today, we form a new order – founded upon the memories of these warring days, founded upon memories of blood, founded upon the honor of Saporia, and founded upon the cause to destroy Corona!”

A great roar went up from the crowd, and Varian felt the hair on the back of his neck rise up in apprehension. What was going on?? Who were these people!?

“Today, we are the Separatists of Saporia!” the man decreed, answering Varian’s unspoken question, and drew a sword in his fist. He raised it to the sky. “For Saporia!”

“FOR SAPORIA! FOR SAPORIA! FOR SAPORIA!” the crowd repeated.

“But…why am I…?” Varian began to ask himself, still puzzled about what he was seeing, and why. But then…

“Now, my brethren,” the spokesman said, sheething his sword as the cries died down. “It is no secret that at present, we do not have a force strong enough to overturn the outcome of this war. However, there is one among us who has a plan that, in due time, will bring us back to our once glorious place among the kingdoms.” Here, the man gestured to a figure behind him. “Zhan Tiri, if you please.”

Varian’s eyes widened, and he froze. He dared not move as he watched the cloaked figure come forward, the man pulling back the cowl of his cloak as he did so. Varian supposed he shouldn’t have been astonished that Zhan Tiri looked rather different that the other times Varian had seen him. He was a shape-shifter after all. But somehow, Varian was taken aback by… well, how normal he looked. Save for the dark, bitter cloud resting upon his countenance, and the slight points at the ends of his ears like an elf, Zhan Tiri looked like most any other man, perhaps in his late twenties or so. Many might even had called him handsome. But unlike his face, his words were far from lovely.

“Fellow Saporians,” Zhan Tiri began, his voice carrying throughout the chamber. “Like you, I too feel ashamed by the weakness of your queen. Nay! No longer shall she be called your queen! She has forgone that right since turning her back on her people, and allying herself with the accursed Herz der Sonne!”

The crowd let off more shouts and curses.

“However,” Zhan Tiri said, waiting a moment for the crowd to quiet down as he raised a hand. “There may still be a way for us to achieve victory. While I am not of your race, your people have been good to my people for many a year, and this will not be forgotten. The people of Corona have forgotten the old ways of magic, and have instead turned to their machines of metal – a detestible thing to us fae! And no offender among the Coronians has been worse than that of Lord Demanitus!”

Yet again, the speech was interrupted by a roar from the crowd. Varian found himself shrinking back further behind the door, and would’ve made a run for it to escape before he was discovered. The atmosphere was feeling far too intense for his liking. But, again, he thought he felt the hand of Demanitus in his own, holding him tight, urging him to stay in place. Varian obeyed, and continued to listen.

“But, as I suspect many of you know,” Zhan Tiri proclaimed with a wicked grin (making his ordinarily handsome face now eerily uncanny), “we fae have our ways of getting what we want.”

A hostile chuckle rumbled through the crowd.

“I must ask you to be patient, my friends,” Zhan Tiri said. “For in order to build up our strength, we must first work on deceiving our enemies. Fortunately, that deception has already begun, for your former queen has seen fit to assign me to work with Lord Demanitus – something about a joint effort to rebuild the destruction and devisions between our two sides or some such useless, platitive effort.”

A murmur of mocking sounds went through the crowd at these words.

“I know, I know,” Zhan Tiri continued. “Unashamed, nonsensical tripe! But I assure you, I shall use this opportunity to get in good with the brightest minds of Herz der Sonne’s entourage, and with this knowledge, we can rebuild our forces, know our enemy’s weaknesses, and take these lands for ourselves – once and for all!”

(End of preview)