#so in honour may I present

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

Ze during the Railway Workers' Day event

[california-112]

That makes the fifth episode of the excellence streak

[exhaled-spirals]

« When I think back on the year 1915, it seems to me that I still hear my friends tell me despondently: "I can't think of anything else! I can't read, I can't work, or find useful distractions (...), I only ruminate about our times, incessantly, until I'm nauseated (...). I've just had two hours of liberty—there was a time when I would have offered them to Tolstoy or Pascal. Today I read about [the war], or European colonial methods; issues that are entirely beyond my reach, but how to think of anything else?"

And perhaps we shouldn't strive to think of anything else; the point is not to turn our backs on our times, but to consider them calmly and thoughtfully. (...) It may be that the philosophy which absorbs you leaves no room for indulgence. Perhaps you feel yourself full of bitterness and rancour towards your fellow men, perhaps you have made up your mind to see in their activities nothing but greed and selfishness. (...) Do not be too eager to prove yourself right! Above everything, do not rejoice in being right in so dismal a fashion. (...) My only ambition is to beg the world to look for anything which can lighten the present and future distress of mankind, to find what interests the soul in a life burdened with troubles and disillusionments, to honour more than ever the faithful and imperishable resources of our inner life. (...)

The storm rages on, the events escalate, worsen, never cease. Never have they seemed more complex, more severe, more demanding. More dangerous. Wherever we turn, an opinion holds up its head and vehemently solicits our belief. (...) Our convictions, our certainties, are at each other's throats. (...) Yet mankind, even in these terrible hours, is only seeking happiness. Men have set off to conquer happiness, clutching in their hands the tools which will forever destroy it. (...) The wrong direction the world has taken is so obvious, so cruel, so vast (...)

Regardless, I would suggest not to lose hope—so long as a single wallflower still opens, in April, over the ruins of the world. Like algae, like mosses, like these laborious lichens which attach to the very ruins their infinite need for happiness, we will find joy in our present affliction and we will grow it, like a wind-battered plant in the parched soil of a wilted world. »

— Georges Duhamel, La Possession du monde (translation mine) Written in 1917 as he worked as an army surgeon.

[malereadermaniac]

ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ Forced Mate - Alpha Zenin Naoya x Omega Male reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Plot: Naoya had the privilege to choose his Omega - your relationship with the heir after an arranged mating and marriage has many ups and downs

Featuring: Top!Alpha!Naoya x Bottom!Omega!Reader

Note: Not watched JJK, probably OOC!!

Warnings: Nsfw / MDNI ~ amab m!reader / FDNI

As expected by anyone who knew him, Naoya of course presented as an Alpha; and as the golden child of the clan, his father set out to find him the perfect mate as soon as possible. Naturally, this proved easier said than done. Naoya had been an egotistical narcissist since he was barely walking, he demanded that his opinions and choices be taken into account on the hunt for his mate, and hell did he have many opinions...

'A woman who doesn't know how to walk three paces behind her husband should be stabbed in the back'

Zenin Naoya was a known sexist. Once he had presented as an Alpha, many thoughts ran through Naoya's head; 'this was expected' - 'of course I'm an Alpha' - 'been stronger than these betas since I was a kid'. But also, after many self-indulgent and boastful thoughts, Naoya also thought 'Thank fuck I don't have to knock up some bitch'. The youngest heir of the Zenin clan was a fucking misogynist, getting a man pregnant seemed like a much sweeter deal than having to deal with a woman as his mate.

So, whilst his father was busy organising match-making meetings and courting hours for his son, Naoya was busy rejecting every single Omega brought to him; because of course, they were all female. The Zenin clan were still traditionalists, if Naoya was to mate with an Omega, that Omega was to at least be a woman. But as you'd expect, Naoya couldn't give less of a fuck about what the clan wanted. He only cared about himself. So once his father eventually gave in and began matchmaking the blonde with male Omegas, Naoya had made his choice. You. And what an honour you would find out this was (or rather quite the opposite). You had caught the Alpha's eye almost immediately after walking into the room. You had aristocratic blood, had undergone etiquette and submission training, you were healthy, and you had so many more 'appealing' qualities for an Omega; but Naoya cared for none of that. The brooding Alpha made most of his decisions on instinct and feeling alone, and it helped that you were quite the head-turner in the looks department. So the decision was made rather quickly. You were to be mated and married to the Zenin clan heir.

You thought you knew what you were in for. Being born into a powerful clan but presenting as an Omega meant one thing; you were a bartering piece, something to marry off in order to establish political relationships. Ever since you presented as an Omega, you had undergone many types of training to become the ideal mate, and you thought that you knew what to expect when it came to how an Alpha would treat you; badly. But boy did you underestimate just how bad it could get. After all of the contractual and political work was out of the way for your arranged marriage, you were immediately moved into the Zenin residence. You had your own room; small but not as crummy as those of the servants. Whilst Naoya viewed you as above all women, he still viewed you as less than any man due to your secondary gender, meaning that he wouldn't share his chambers with you, he wouldn't acknowledge you romantically; you may as well be his live-in prostitute... The night of your moving-in, the two of you were expected to mate; as in, you were expected to submit to Naoya and allow the Alpha to mark you. It was a hard night for you, the hardest by far. Naoya was an impatient man, a selfish man who cared only for his own pleasure, and even worse for you, a sadist by all means. You were in immense amounts of pain that night, the Alpha forcing his way inside of you and drilling into you the whole night; your screams and whines of pain egging him on, turning him on. Your body was covered in bite marks and hickeys, your nape permanently marked by Naoya; your now mate forever, your Alpha.

It did get better though. With time, Naoya began to tolerate you. Most of your interactions did of course still take place in his chambers; you would visit your Alpha's bedroom almost every single night at his request, leaving in the early hours of the morning back to your chambers. Naoya acknowledged you now though: a chuckled scoff when passing you in the gardens, allowing you at his dinner table, calling for you when he was bored. Of course, Naoya never spoke your name, he often had to be reminded of it by his advisors, he would instead call you 'Omega'; but weirdly, that was enough for you. You also couldn't complain about the sex! He may be a maniac, but Naoya sure does know his way around your body. The Alpha knows how to rut into you in ways that make you writhe and scream in pleasure, he knows how much pain you can take to where you aren't in agony, but you do cry out his name and shed a few tears; he knows you, and that's a lot coming from such a self-absorbed man. Naoya loves it when workers walk in on the two of you fucking; he acknowledges whoever walked in, but he doesn't stop whatever it is he's doing to you. Whether it be his fingers curling into your slicked hole, his tongue forcing your tight walls apart, his hand forcing your head up and down his length, or his dick visibly thrusting in and out of you, Naoya never lets an unexpected audience prevent his pleasure.

The Alpha would never admit it, too proud and narcissistic, but there are things he likes about you. Hell, Naoya fucking loves certain things about you. The blonde goes absolutely feral for your scent, demanding that you scent his room bi-weekly to "comfort his inner Alpha". Naoya will hold you closer while he fucks you, just to get more of your intoxicating, sweet scent. He'll even use your scent as an excuse to have you sleep in his bed; claiming that a mate's scent helps an Alpha sleep. That's another thing he's come to like - sharing his space with you, more specifically his bed. Naoya has become unable to sleep in an empty bed. He'd never admit to missing your weight beside him, to missing the scent of your hair as you curl into his muscular body; but Naoya knew deep down that he loved having you around. But again, the Alpha refused to vocalise his liking of you; you just had to assume from his actions that your Alpha didn't seem to mind you as much as he used to.

Naoya's ruts are another key part of your relationship with the Alpha. Knowing how he is when in his right mind, you can imagine how Naoya behaves during a rut. The man is a fucking menace. Your body usually goes limp from suffering multiple orgasms without breaks in between. Hickeys and deep bites always end up littering your body. Naoya's body glistens with a sheen of sweat as his muscles flex and tense after what must be ten orgasms in one night; the endurance and stamina of Alphas is a medical phenomenon. Naoya loves to be as close as physically possible to you when in rut, pushing his body down onto yours as he drills his thick, long cock in and out of your warm, tight hole. You switch positions many, many times in one night during one of Naoya's ruts; a favourite of his seemingly being speedbump, but with his muscular arm around your neck, your cheeks squished by his bulging bicep as the Alpha pounds you into the bed with a ridiculous amount of force. Usually, Naoya is talkative when messing around with you, loving the sounds you make and your squirms at his dirty talk, but a rut fully takes it out of him; all of the man's energy going to fucking, with none to spare for any words other than 'Omega' and 'mine'. That's another thing about his ruts, Naoya becomes extraordinarily possessive during them! During pre-rut, Naoya will have anyone who dares speak to you locked away for a week! The blonde has to always have some form of physical contact with you during his pre-ruts and becomes much less of a cunt; showing a more endearing side of himself when he demands to cuddle you and be around you constantly. During Naoya's full ruts, he never allows you to leave his side. The man could be dead asleep and if you get up to clean up or grab some water, he wakes up within seconds and grips your wrist as tight as he can, looking up into your eyes with his own, dark, brooding ones.

Your heats are a completely different story. Naoya is his usual self times ten! Such a fucking sadistic tease. He refuses to touch you where you want him to, going as slow as possible, and making your big, pretty eyes pink up with tears. You end up begging, pleading, crying mess before his dick gets anywhere near your ass! Your Alpha's fingers do most of the work for your first couple of orgasms, his mouth moving from your nape, to your scent gland for a hit of your hypnotic, sweet smell. Until you're screaming out incoherent pleas and 'Alpha' s, Naoya doesn't allow you the pleasure of fucking you to heaven and back; but damn, when you finally cave in and beg like a pathetic bitch (his own words), your world shatters. During your average heat, Naoya will make sure that you're writhing in pleasure beneath him as he roughs you up; the Alpha's eyes locked onto your immensely pleasured form, watching and admiring how physically and mentally overwhelmed you seem with pleasure, pleasure that only Naoya can provide for you. Kisses are a lot more common when you're in heat. Naoya knows that you are too dazed from the hormones running rampant throughout your body and brain to remember almost anything from your heat; so he lets some affection show here and there. His kisses are tender. So soft and even to an extent loving. The blonde fucking loves to interrupt your moans and desperate panting with a kiss, turning the moment of primal desire into a romantic one; the juxtaposition kinda turns him on, and it most definitely helps you with your heat! Naoya's kisses go right to your brain (dick), your inner Omega screaming in pleasure at the sign of affection; subconsciously understanding the kiss as 'my Alpha loves me', 'my Alpha cares'. And even though he would never admit it, Naoya did care about you.

Many months go by after your first night with your Alpha. A weird, but comfortable relationship blooming between you and Naoya. But this was an arranged marriage, the key word being marriage. So of course, Naoya's father pushed the two of you to get married as soon as possible. And the demands kept coming from the Zenin clan... House work. Resigning from your career. Submission. Children.

The Zenin clan needed an Heir; one that would take over even after Naoya. And you were expected to provide that. On the one hand, as an Omega, you did naturally crave having children in your life; caring for pups came naturally to you. But holy shit was it insulting. To be told to your face that you were good for nothing other than producing offspring; really knocked you down a few pegs. So much so that Naoya even noticed; he didn't like it. He liked that you usually had some fight in you; normally, you would clap back at him when he was being a cunt, and you would knock him down a few pegs. But after his father basically called you a breeding cow, you stopped being... interesting.

It got to the point that you were barely even talking to Naoya; simply presenting to him whenever he wanted to fuck. That pissed him off. Usually, you'd at least call him a name or insult him! What snapped you out of this little lull was Naoya himself; told you he secretly cared. A harsh slap to your face and your cheeks squished between the Alpha's masculine, strong hand, and you were sorted! Well, it was a little more than that... Naoya gave you a good talk too, tellin' you that you were more than just an incubator for his heirs, you were his after all; verbatim "Nothing that's mine is so boring and surface-level". So you sucked it up. All the opinions of the rest of the clan didn't matter anymore; you simply didn't care. Sure, you would produce an heir, you would produce many. But what a kick in the balls to all of the traditionalist cunts in the Zenin clan it would be if you raised your pups to be the exact opposite of what they wanted. And when you promised that to Naoya, his grin couldn't have stretched any wider.

I feel like this was really shit. Sorry. But I did really wanna get more omegaverse out cause I love it so so much! And Naoya is fucking hot.

[multific]

Gifts and Cake

Emperor Geta x Reader

Summary: Your marriage was arranged but your love for each other was not.

Marrying him was not in your favour.

He took a liking to you at one of your father's parties and now, you were his wife.

Emperor Geta truly showed his other side to you.

While people saw a raging crazy man, he was kind and sweet with you.

An unmerciful ruler, but a kind husband.

He always made sure you had everything you wanted. 

And as your birthday approached, he came to you during the day.

Bursting into the room you currently sat, reading and eating fruit.

"Tomorrow is your birthday, My Darling Wife, I wish to know what it is that your heart desires?" his question was so sudden you froze for a moment.

"I believe I have everything because I have you, My Husband. But I do know you and you mean gifts, I simply wish for cake, you know my love for sweets and if it's not too much a new pet." you ended up saying.

"A pet? What kind? A tiger or lion perhaps?"

"No, nothing like that, I simply wish for a healthy kitten." 

"A kitten. Why a cat if I may I ask?" you watched as his face filled with confusion.

"I adore them, and I wish for a small companion to be with me when you can't." His eyes lit up at your words and a smile spread on his lips.. 

"My Sweet Darling!" he kissed your hand before darting out of the room you smiled at his actions. 

He left just as he arrived.

—-

The next morning came, you woke up to your husband missing from his side of your bed, but soon, he entered with servants.

All carried presents for you.

"My Love! This day is special, we celebrate your birth after all! To show my love for you, these are all presents from me." 

"Thank you!" you smiled as the servants placed all gifts around you and left, leaving you and your husband who eagerly watched you and waited for your reaction.

You began with a smaller box, it had a beautiful new ring inside.

"To match my own." Geta spoke up and you looked at him, seeing his hand you noticed the same ring on his pinky. 

"I really like it. Thank you."

You looked at all the presents which included a lot of different jewellery, dresses and sweet things.

"I really liked everything, Geta. Thank you." you smiled as he waved a finger at you.

"Not everything. Of course, we will hold a party tonight, there will be cake as I promised and I still have one gift for you." 

The entire day went by pretty usual.

During the evening as promised, there was a party held in your honour.

You had so many sweets and enjoyed the songs. Your husband was there as you laughed and enjoyed yourself.

Caracalla was another pleasant surprise with his lovely gift. He arranged for you and Geta a lovely bath in a popular bathhouse.

But most importantly, your husband finally gave you your last gift. 

"As promised, My Empress, your new pet. Name him as you please." a beautiful white kitten sat in Geta's arms. Such a small and gentle being.

You stood up from your seat and your husband handed you the kitten.

"Thank you, My Love. I'm very happy. Today has been the happiest." you said with a smile and a kiss to your husband's lips.

"It is only the beginning, we still have much wine to drink and we will head to our chambers." he whispered the last part into your ears, and you smiled at him once more.

"I truly love you, Geta."

"And I love you, My Empress." 

You sealed your love with a kiss.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[honeyedfate]

loverboy | 심재윤

pairing. jake sim x idol!gf!reader

jake is in love. completely smitten. and anyone in his immediate vicinity knows it. they also know that jake is an incredibly caring and thoughtful boyfriend and that he’d do anything for you. which makes it all the more frustrating when both of your fans believe that you can barely stand each other. they even have proof.

genre. fluff

a/n: wishing everyone a happy new year! may 2025 be kind to all of us x

[ › second part ][ › third part ]

jake is not a lover boy. he knows that. he’s never been overly well-versed in romance and he never pretended to be. nonetheless, he believes that there is a pertinent distinction to be made between being a hopeless romantic and being a good boyfriend.

the latter is what he strives for every day of his life. if romance is a language then it might not be his native tongue but, damn it, he works tirelessly to be fluent in it. he wears the title of being a good boyfriend like it’s a polished badge of honour, not expecting anything in return but solely doing it because he believes you don’t deserve anything less (and because he’s hopelessly in love, but that’s besides the point).

so how he ends up in this deeply offensive predicament is a mystery to him. he will lose sleep over it and will continue to do so until it’s resolved, which is seemingly why he’s sat in a meeting room at the company building, nervously spinning his chair while sneaking glances at you.

if he’s a nervous wreck then you’re the embodiment of a peace sign. he is simply in awe at how you’re this unperturbed by the presence of your managers, a pr team, a higher executive, and jungwon and chaewon. to say he was equal parts surprised and confused when he first walked into this room is an understatement.

it was exacerbated once you entered the room as well, looking just as puzzled and uninformed by this meeting as he was. you sat a respectable distance away from him, yet your presence still calmed jake down.

until it didn’t.

alarm bells slowly started ringing once he looked around the room. the bells were practically blaring when yuki said, “jake, as your manager and your friend you know that i only want what’s best for you. you know that. and y/n, you’ve been spending enough time with us to know that i’m fond of you, i think you’re a good kid. i care for both of you, which is the only reason why i’m asking you this.” he hesitated a little, taking a deep breath. “are you two dating?”

the silence was loud.

neither of you dared to glance at each other. an eternity must’ve passed until chaewon cleared her throat and said in a calm, steady voice, “it’s okay, guys. really.”

jake glanced at jungwon who was nodding eagerly. that was when you caught jake’s eye and he immediately knew you wanted to tell them. you had both talked about this before, letting him know that you wouldn’t mind if the company knew. you also knew that jake had his hesitations.

just telling the guys and knowing that you had told the girls nearly gave him heart palpitations. and it’s not because he’s distrustful, he just really values his privacy and keeping your relationship private felt like the right thing to do. thus, revealing it to the people presently sat in front him felt like a violation to his own peace of mind, but you both nodded and so it was out.

the response was nothing he could’ve expected. ever. because they looked… relieved? they actually looked quite happy. both of your managers had loosened a breath while the pr team had cracked tiny smiles or were trying very hard not to.

“what’s going on?” you said with a frown, having picked up on it too. chaewon gave a small laugh.

“well,” said the pr woman in a blue top. she picked up a black remote and pointed it at the beamer on the ceiling to turn it on. “recently, you two have been quite the talk on the internet. it seems that both of your fans think you hate each other. they’re actually pretty certain.”

and so, for the next twenty minutes jake and you were presented with a slideshow involving various headlines, articles, comments, posts, and video compilations from different social media platforms that had jake and you gasping in rotation.

“this one’s just dumb!” jake sputters, waving at the screen. “they’re saying i pushed her to the floor because she was dancing in her seat? why would i do that? she was sitting on the other side of the row, how could i have seen her!”

“maybe you sensed it and it really pissed you off.” you snort, holding up a folder filled with social media comments. “someone said i must despise your whole being because you’re introverted and i apparently have a personal vendetta against your people.”

“my people are your people! you’re an introvert too.” jake sounds desperate now. “where are they getting this from? all of these are so obviously a reach, come on.”

jake takes the folder out of your hands when he sees you giggling over a comment, prompting you to pout playfully. he pokes your side.

“you see…” jungwon speaks up, shaking his hair out of his eyes and clearly planning to beat around the bush. “is it though? not really. that obvious, i mean.”

chaewon hums in agreement. “i mean, i know you guys are in love, but there have been too many incidents that have caught people’s attention. it just can’t be a coincidence anymore, jake. the compilation is 30 minutes long, you know.” she looks at you and him carefully.

jake is beside himself. “you mean to tell me i pushed my girlfriend to the floor intentionally?”

“no, of course not,” says yuki with wide eyes, “we know you couldn’t hurt a fly if you wanted to, but, it’s just, well, how else did it happen? you mean to tell me y/n coincidentally fell against your arm when she walked past?”

“i’m just clumsy, guys.” you say quickly, moving your own chair closer to jake’s and bumping your legs against his in the process. “i was just walking down to my seat when he moved his arm because he was pointing at something. he didn’t even see me.”

“and when you were sitting on the floor right in front of him after the whole venue saw you fall, he also didn’t see you, right? him looking straight into your eyes and not moving a finger, so that a member from boynextdoor had to help you up also doesn’t have to mean anything, right?” grey sweater guy from pr chimes in, sounding amused and curious and very punchable (to jake, at least).

“yeah, what was that about?” jungwon says in a low voice as if everyone in the room had suddenly developed hearing issues.

“or when you went out of your way to pour champagne on her at the prada afterparty?” blue top woman adds unhelpfully.

your manager winces like it’s a traumatic experience that happened to him. “there was also that one time when fans saw you hiding all of the vogue covers with y/n on them behind a bunch of other magazines at a bookstore.”

“or when y/n handed you flowers on music bank when we won and you gave them back. on camera.” jungwon snickers.

“okay!” jake lets himself fall back against his chair, feeling absolutely defeated. “i can’t believe that’s how people perceived all of this. that’s…god, i don’t even know, but i can explain.”

“please do,” you say in a teasing tone, “because i am also starting to think you might actually secretly hate me.”

“what—” jake leans towards you abruptly, searching your eyes and you can’t help but laugh.

“i’m just joking.”

“get better jokes,” he grumbles, pouting, before letting out a long sigh when he sees everyone staring at him expectantly. “i don’t even know where to begin.”

“start with the magazines,” you say.

“oh, those...” he scratches the back of his head. “i was at a bookstore when i saw the covers on display and i just felt really proud, i mean you looked beautiful and it was a cool concept. so i took some pictures on my phone and when it suddenly changed to the front camera, i could see two girls looking at me from behind. i panicked and didn’t know what to do, so i quickly shoved the magazines behind some others hoping they didn’t see me take the photos.”

“they didn’t,” grey sweater guy confirms. “they only saw you hide them.”

jake nods. “yes, and at the prada afterparty, i just… i didn’t saw anyone filming us, so i thought it’d be safe to bring my girlfriend a drink. i was being subtle, but when i turned around, she was standing a lot closer than expected and i bumped into her. the whole drink just kind of spilled over and that’s when i saw the phones filming us.”

jake glances at you sheepishly, but you simply smile reassuringly, knowing that it was just an accident and he had apologised profusely that night. it was never that big of a deal to you anyway, knowing no one was mad that the dress had been ruined. reaching over under the table, you interlace your fingers with his and draw small circles on the back of his hand with your thumb, hoping it signals to him exactly that.

he goes on to say, “i also didn’t mean to push her at the AAA awards. it was all an accident and it happened so quickly that when i looked down and saw y/n there, i just froze. i couldn’t believe what had happened and also…” he clears his throat. “she just looked really pretty, like she was wearing that dress and her hair looked so—erm, yea, anyway. i malfunctioned.”

jungwon gives a small laugh, shoving jake’s shoulder as chaewon coos. you try to hide your grin when you see how red his ears are and fail miserably, but jake mirrors it, so you don’t feel too bad about it.

“and the flowers, oh my god, i don’t know why i did that.” jake groans like the memory still haunts him. “i just saw the bouquet and my brain went oh, flowers! i need to give them to y/n so i did. like an idiot. and i obviously couldn’t snatch them back when heeseung asked why i did that. it was embarrassing.”

the whole room erupts in laughter and you lay your head on his shoulder, saying, “it was cute.”

jake grunts something incoherent, but wraps an arm around your waist anyway, pulling you closer.

“you know,” the higher executive finally speaks up, still laughing. “it’s extremely relieving that you two don’t hat each other because your fans were really turning this into a battlefield. this, however, is much easier to manage knowing you are both willing to cooperate.”

jake and you exchange a look. “what do you mean cooperate?”

“cooperate in what?” you add on.

the pr team pulls out another stack of folders, each of them tabbed and colour coordinated. “we have a plan.”

grey sweater guy starts another presentation, revealing the first slide which says in bold, capital letters OPERATION: NO HATE, JUST DATE.

your jaw hits the floor. jake inhales sharply and says under his breath, “no way.”

next to him, jungwon grins, enjoying himself a little too much.

“this will be so much fun, guys!”

[ second part › operation: no hate, just date ]

[genderkoolaid]

Mustarjil is an Arabic term meaning “becoming [a] man.” Although it can be used derogatorily to refer to women who are perceived as having a masculine appearance and/or mannerisms, in Iraq’s marshes, it existed as a gender identity. Within the context of the Ahwari community, Mustarjil was a common gender identity, where people assigned female at birth decide to live as a man after puberty, and this decision was generally accepted in the community. The Mustarjils were one of many similar third gender categories around the world, such as the Hijras in South Asia. [...] “One afternoon, some days after leaving Dibin, we arrived at a village on the mainland. The sheikh was away looking at his cultivations, but we were shown to his mudhif by a boy wearing a head-rope and cloak, with a dagger at his waist. He looked about fifteen and his beautiful face was made even more striking by two long braids of hair on either side. ln the past all the Madan (Ahwari) wore their hair like that, as the Bedu still did. After the boy had made us coffee and withdrawn, Amara asked, ‘Did you realize that was a mustarjil?’ I had vaguely heard of them, but had not met one before. ‘A mustarjil is born a woman’. ‘She cannot help that; but she has the heart of a man, so she lives like a man.’ ‘Do men accept her?’ ‘Certainly. We eat with her and she may sit in the mudhif. When she dies, we fire off our rifles to honour her. We never do that for a woman. In Majid’s village there is one who fought bravely in the war against Haji Sulaiman.’ ‘Do they always wear their hair plaited?’ ‘Usually they shave it off like men.’ ‘Do mustarjils ever marry?’ ‘No, they sleep with women as we do.’” Thesiger continues to narrate several other accounts of mustarjils within the same community, as well that of a “stout middle-aged woman” who wanted to remove her male organ in order to “turn into a proper woman.” Thesiger later mentions: “Afterwards I often noticed the same [person] washing dishes on the river bank with the women. Accepted by them, [she] seemed quite at home. These people were kinder to [her] than we would have been in our society.” Around that time, Britain was still living under the shadow of Victorian norms, and gender non-normative people were still stigmatized and shunned. Communities such as the Ahwaris, presented an alternative model that created space for communities like the mustarjils, despite the dominant gender binary. 

— Recovering Arab Trans History: Masoud El Amaratly, the Folk Music Icon from Iraq’s Marshes by Marwan Kaabour

[a-little-revolution]

It seems like you're a big fan of Warwick Davis, I was wondering if there are any other little people actors you really like, especially women and trans/nb actors?

Hello! Yes I do enjoy Warwick Davis! Willow (1988) remains one of my favourite LP films, and I've really enjoyed his career of fantastical characters.

Like a lot of industries, white men make up a lot of the most famous Little actors (Warwick Davis, Peter Dinklage, Danny Woodburn, Martin Klebba, Verne Troyer), so I'm happy to mention some of my favourites outside that group!

Linda Hunt is a favourite of mine - she's a Hollywood veteran best known for her role in The Year of Living Dangerously (1982) where she was the first actor to win an academy award for playing someone of the opposite sex!! She's been on Broadway, done tv, film, and voice acting! You may know her as Lady Proxima in Solo: A Star Wars Story (2018).

If you think you don't know Deep Roy, chances are you do! He's been a scale actor in countless award winning films including Star Wars (1980), Star Trek (2009-2016), The Never Ending Story (1984), Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005) and so many more! We owe so many beloved characters to scale actors and people hardly know it - Deep Roy has been responsible for dozens of them, I adore him.

Despite Patty Maloney's vast career in acting, I know her as Lois Addams from The Addams Family (1991)! Before my time she was in a variety of tv shows and films including Star Trek Voyager (1996), Little House on the Prairie (1982), and The Lord of the Rings (1978).

Cara Mailey is a young actress, author, presenter and activist! She's known for her role in Derry Girls (2018) and Read all About It! (2021), as well as her ebook "I Got This" - which speaks on her experience living with Achondroplasia. I wanted to be sure to give her an honourable mention because at only fifteen she's already become an activist for the LP community! I'm excited to see how her career evolves!

Thank you for the ask! Be sure to check these folks out!

[synticity]

3 papers to read in Deaf & disability studies within linguistics

I was compiling a to-read list for another purpose anyways, so I thought I might as well drop this here! These 3 papers are at the intersection of Deaf studies, disability studies, and linguistics. Jon Henner, Lina Hou, and Octavian Robinson are all scholars to read in this area.

Henner, J., & Robinson, O. (2023). Unsettling languages, unruly bodyminds: A crip linguistics manifesto. Journal of Critical Study of Communication and Disability, 1(1), 7-37. The paper is here, and there's also this lovely podcast version read by Vagrant Gautam.

Hou, L., & Namboodiripad, S. (2024). Manifesting a Crip Linguistic Theory through a Critical Disability Raciolinguistic Perspective. A preprint of the paper is available here.

Robinson, O. E., Sheneman, N., & Henner, J. (2020). Toxic ableism among interpreters: Impeding deaf people’s linguistic rights through pathological posturing. Honouring the past, treasuring the present, shaping the future, 14-41. The paper is here.

I'm new to reading in this topic, so I may do another post with another set of papers in the future when I have read more deeply! If you know other papers that talk about Deaf and disability studies in linguistics, please feel free to drop links and citations Check out my 3 Papers To Read tag for other linguistics recommended reading

[daydreamkissesxo]

Father Charlie x reader| Sinner part 2; The only piece of Heaven I have ever had

Warnings; heavy smut, breeding kink, mentions of body image, blasphemy, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, manipulative priest? (I think that’s all🙈) 18+

My link won’t work to add part 1 but I am trying!😭

Father Charlie paid you little to no attention during mass, he cruelly ignored you for the sake of his own sanity. The thought of you now sat amongst your family completely bare beneath your dress as your arousal seeps through the fabric and onto the church pew made his head spin.

You'd become increasingly agitated by his ignorance, perhaps his idea of repentance was your humiliation.

You'd began to fidget with your fingers nervously as you pray for time to pass faster, desperate for even a glimpse of his attention when he wasn’t occupied by the scriptures of the bible.

Your heart briefly stopped as you watched father Charlie acknowledge a young woman in the front row with a warm smile, a smile he'd always saved for you.

You grew both jealous and hurt, anxious that your confession had pushed him further away.

Mass had ended just as predicted, you'd barely left your seat before a swarm of persistent mothers surround you and your family, their sons left lingering behind.

"Y/N, have you given any more thought to our proposal?" One asked, pushing her way through the small crowd built around the church pew where your family sat.

You were barely present, your eyes fixated on father Charlie who carelessly fiddled with his papers at the alter as he continued to avoid your gaze.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t.” You abruptly reply, rising from your seat only to be met with the hands of another mother as she places them on your hips.

“My love, you have the most precious birthing hips I have ever seen.” She says, gesturing others to look as she nods down at them.

“No doubt a gift from god. You would bear beautiful children.” Another says, her smile warm as she looks up at you with hopeful eyes.

Father Charlie scoffed quietly in disgust as he overheard, his arrangement of the papers in front of him carelessly thrown down as he loses his care for them.

Usually he wouldn’t intervene, but your desperate confession and the unfinished business between the two of you left him with no choice.

He painted on a warm smile and walked over, the crowd immediately dispersing at his voice.

“You seem to be very popular with the precious mothers here, Y/N.” He attempted to sound sincere, though it came off slightly differently.

He saw the lingering look of upset in your eyes as your gaze met his, it was pleasant to know how desperately you longed for his attention.

“Oh Father, Y/N would be just perfect for my son. Wouldn’t you agree?” A woman asks, her eyes lit up with hope as she so greatly valued his opinion.

Of course he disagreed, nobody’s son was worthy of you but he couldn’t entirely crush her spirits due to his own jealousy.

“I’m sure he’d make a wonderful husband to any woman, but I’m not qualified to matchmake anyone here.” He kindly replied, flashing her a warm smile he knew she loved to see.

He turned his attention towards your mother who stood behind you, a kind but stern woman who undoubtedly kept you close.

“Mrs Y/L/N. Would I be able to keep Y/N behind once you leave? I have something I’d like to ask her opinion of.”

She was very trusting of father Charlie, believing that whatever it was he needed you for would only add to your worth as a self respecting Catholic.

“Of course, father Charlie. Y/N would be honoured to help.” she replied, placing her hand on your shoulder to caress it with her thumb.

“Wonderful. It may take a while, but I’ll see to it that she gets home safely.”

No words were spoken as you followed father Charlie back to his office, the silence was unnerving, and now you were left to wonder whether you'd gotten the entire thing so very wrong.

Father Charlie stood aside and held the door open, extending an arm to gesture you in.

Your heart pounded as you prepared yourself for the stern lecture you were expecting, barely able to look at him as you step in.

You jumped slightly at the slam of the door, desperately avoiding his gaze as he turned to face you.

He sensed your nerves, but chose to ignore them as he walked around you and over to his desk.

He cleared his throat, ridding the room of silence as he finally spoke.

"Take your dress off and give it to me." He simply said, removing his stole and neatly folding it before placing it onto his desk.

Such simple instructions and yet you were frozen, barely able to process what you'd just been commanded.

"Do I need to repeat myself, Y/N?" He asked in an oddly calm tone, looking up from his semi unbuttoned cassock.

You dared to glance down at the skin that was now exposed before quickly coming back to your senses out of fear he may grow frustrated with your ignorance, frantically shaking your head.

"No, father."

Your hands fell to the hem of your dress, bunching it up before pulling it upwards and over your head to free your body of it.

Your lower half was left bare while your breasts were held by a simple white lace bra.

In the time it had taken you to remove your dress, father Charlie had discarded the garments from his upper body, leaving him only in black tight fitting trousers with a protruding bulge.

You slowly lifted your head in shame, your eyes widening a little at the sight of his beautifully toned upper body that was always so well hidden.

Your hand trembled as you held out your dress for father Charlie, he smiled so casually as he took the dress from your hands.

He was cautious not to show any dramatic physical reaction to your barely clothed body, but his cock throbbed at the ethereal beauty that stood before him.

You watched as he folded your dress as neatly as his own garments, placing it on the desk beside his vestments.

His patience and self restraint was oddly terrifying, how could anyone have such great control?

He reached for your hand, linking your index finger with his as he gently guided you to stand before him.

He took a moment to admire the beautifully soft skin that you'd always so modestly hidden, his gaze slowly falling to your waist before he very gently took hold of it.

Your hips had gained so much attention amongst the overbearing mothers of the church, and he finally understood why.

They were perfect for bearing a child, one he could only wish would be his.

"It sickens me to think your family would be willing to let such unworthy men defile their beautiful daughter.." he whispers, grazing his fingertips along your skin in search of your hip bone.

Your breath grew audibly heavier, your lips parting in awe as you gaze up at him in wonder.

"Men who would selfishly prioritise their own pleasure and leave you completely dissatisfied. You don't want that, do you?" He asks, his darkened gaze finally meeting yours.

Your heart fluttered at the intensity of his gaze, shaking your head in agreement with his words.

"Not me, Y/N. I'd worship you like I worship the Lord, you'd never live a day dissatisfied."

His hand slipped between your physically wet thighs which you slightly parted to accommodate his touch, his extended middle finger tracing over your folds.

He watched as your eyes widened, your soft gasp being all the encouragement he needed to take it even further.

He slid his finger through your slippery folds, coating it in your dripping arousal before circling your clit with the pad of his fingertip.

Your explosive moan was truly devilish, who knew something so obscene could slip past your innocently soft lips.

He brought his free hand up to your mouth, firmly holding it over your lips to silence you.

"Sh, sweet girl. People will wonder what I'm doing to you.." he chuckled sadistically, amused by the apologetic look in your eyes. 

"Is this what you fantasised about when you touched yourself like this?" He whispered, increasing the speed of his circling touch.

You whimpered against his hand, your knees threatening to buckle as you'd never felt such pleasure.

He glanced over at the small single bed he'd placed beneath a very low window, so low that if he were to continue his carefully planned sexual activity with you beneath it, someone would undoubtedly see.

He slowly withdrew his hand from between your thighs, smirking as you grew visibly upset by the sudden lack of touch.

"I want you to lay on the bed, on your back with your knees bent."

He watched as you complied despite your confusion, bringing his hand up to lips to suck at his drenched fingertip as he followed you over.

He groaned under his breath with pleasure at the taste of your sweet nectar, running his tongue along the tip of his finger to truly savour the taste.

His hands fell to the buttons of his trousers and you watched in anticipation as he unbuttoned them, the sound of the zip coming undone caused a shiver to rush down your spine.

He knew by prolonging your suffering you'd be desperate and willing to comply with anything he asked.

He tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his underwear before slipping both them and his trousers down past his hips and thighs, freeing his painfully hard cock.

Once past his calves, he stepped out of his trousers and stood at the foot of the bed before placing his hands on your knees to spread your legs.

The sheets beneath you were visibly stained as your arousal drip from your aching folds, the cold air that brush past your now exposed core causing goosebumps to spread down your thighs.

"Missionary, because we're in the lords house." He whispered as he lowered his head to press a sloppy kiss to your knee, smirking against it as he felt your knee tremble slightly.

Father Charlie knelt between your thighs, forcing them to part further to accommodate him before he places a hand beside your head to support him as he hovers over you, your folds brushing against his length.

Your body tenses beneath him as you place a trembling hand on his shoulder, staring up at him completely doe eyed with a slightly panicked expression.

"Father..we can't-"

He knew what you were going to say, yet he did not want to hear it, so instead he slid his free hand between your thighs and roughly inserted his middle and index finger into your core knowing the reaction it would gain from you.

Your breathy moan was even more explosive than before, your back began to arch and your head started to tilt back and this time, he didn't silence you.

"I'm saving you, my sweet girl. Do you want another man's dirty hands all over your precious body?" He whispers soothingly, his fingers gliding in and out of you.

"I want you, father. Only you." You moan out desperately, your walls fluttering around his fingers which forces a bead of precum to leak from his tip.

He could no longer prolong his own pleasure after hearing your desperation, withdrawing his fingers to take hold of his length to stroke it in preparation.

He bowed his head to look down at himself, aligning his tip with your hole before very slowly inserting himself.

He groaned as he felt your virginal walls stretch around him, barely able to lift his head as he was so overwhelmed with pleasure but your pained moan forced him to do so.

"You're okay, it'll pass..it's okay." he whispered reassuringly, cupping your cheek softly as he continued to push himself into you until fully inserted.

You winced in discomfort, but the pain was tolerable due to father Charlie's attentive nature.

He waited until the pain had subsided a little before thrusting into you, the moan that escaped your lips with each thrust forced out small moans of his own.

Just knowing he was taking away the privilege from whatever man your family chose to marry you made him crave more of you, he was determined to ruin you for anyone else.

His thrusts increased rapidly, eliciting almost pornographic style moans from your lips.

He watched as your clothed breasts bounced with each movement, cupping one of them before lowering his head to kiss at your collarbone.

"You've always been so special to me, Y/N." He whispered against your skin, releasing his grip from your breast to drag his fingertips down towards your core as it slips between your thighs.

Your hips naturally lifted from the bed in anticipation for his touch, whimpering loudly as his index and middle finger circle your clit at a rapid pace.

It took seconds for your legs to start jerking, your hips bucking upwards while tears flood your waterline.

"Father.." you whisper with uncertainty as your breath trembles, involuntarily throwing your head back as the unknown sensation that builds in your lower stomach grows larger.

You gasp loudly as an unfamiliar wave of pleasure washes over you, tears rolling down your cheeks as your eyes squeeze shut while your body writhes beneath him as you ride it out.

The unholy display of pleasure beneath him was a sight he’d never forget, now he understood why it was so forbidden, addiction to it would be inevitable.

The sensation of your walls tightening around him along with your desperate whimpering brought him to his own climax, yet he had no intention of withdrawing from you to release his seed.

His thrusts faltered as he began to coat your walls with his semen, bowing his head as he could barely find the strength to hold it.

His grunting drowned out the sound of your whimpers, his body slowly collapsing on top of yours while he remained inside of you.

Your body lay paralysed beneath him, panting heavily as you attempt to catch your breath while processing the fact you had unprotected sex with your local priest who didn’t seem to care.

“I..I can get a plan B..” you say timidly as you stare at the ceiling above you, wondering whether the mention of it will force him to realise what he’d done.

He somehow found the energy to lift his head up enough to look down at you, a disapproving expression replacing the pleasure filled one he had a moment ago.

“You will do no such thing, contraception is forbidden. You should know this, sweet girl.”

He had to desperately fight back the smile threatening to appear as he found it all too amusing, unprotected premarital sex with a man of the church was also forbidden though he was willing to bend those rules.

Tagging @2yeshes bc they asked me to, I hope part two meets everyone’s needs🫶🏼

[deerspherestudios]

I've been struggling with how to write this out, but the ask box closing gave me an excuse to sit down and make an official attempt at it. Apologies if it's long but I don't think I can compact it without missing some points I wanted to ramble about

I downloaded and played Astronought back in November. I love all its little details, and of course Atom itself.

From the purposefully misspelled title (nought like not/nothing instead of naut like nautical), to how utterly charming Atom is (their general mannerisms, and their laugh… sounds like chittering……), this game is something that has stuck itself in my head

After getting my first ending (route?) it was too late to play a second one & I ended up in the files (wanting to get more of them and this was the easiest way. also curiosity), and THE FILE NAMES? I'M SANE. ABOUT THE FILE NAMES. (Finding out my favorite CG was named "whipped" was very funny, because YEAH. IT TRULY IS, ISN'T IT.) The music that was ALREADY my favorite present in the game AND REALIZING IT'S NAMED "IT SIGHS AND YEARNS AND BEGS TO RETURN" IN THE FILES? YOU REALLY HAD TO DO THAT TO ME, HUH. Very fitting, I applaud you for tugging my heartstrings. At first the SFX named "your favorite" confused me. Until it hit me that it's the lights changing to your favorite colour. ITS THE. AGUHHH. I thought that was a very neat detail and I enjoyed figuring that one out. There's a lot of names in there that I had fun looking over, even if they weren't really meant to be looked at by the average player (?) The game's backgrounds are very well done, too. All of them feel very cohesive :]

Now, onto Atom themselves. Your honour, the worms have unfortunately charmed me. NOT TO MENTION THEY'RE JUST SO FASCINATING? ALL THEIR LITTLE QUIRKS AND EVERY LITTLE FACT. I have a great many questions that I've managed to forget while typing this but I'll try to write them down next time I remember them. However. I love how inhuman they truly are. Their diet is different (THEY can eat kibble, why can't you), their morals are different (murder is okay if it's in retaliation, etc. etc.) HOW THEY CAN GAIN INFORMATION BY EFFECTIVELY CONSUMING SOMEONE? THEY CAN CHANGE THEMSELVES TO BE DIFFERENT MATTERS???? The fact they may as well be buzzing at any form of affection you offer them (They pause when you offer to shake their hand and practically vibrate when you pat them on the shoulder) while still usually being restrained enough to avoid possible issues (it's noted the worms have an odd texture in game, and they don't immediately jump you and instead gingerly wrap a single worm around your finger) is,. oughg I LOVE THE REASON THEY CALL YOU LUNA NOVA, TOO. IT'S ADORABLE Even when they're being a bit more fucked up I still adore them. I got the softer route at first (couldn't say no to them, even if it was a bit illogical in the current situation), and even when I went back for the other route (and by god is that likely a different impression) it just made me MORE interested in it. I could go on.

I went into playing the game knowing the twist, I will admit, but the scene of the reveal was still quite impactful! (possibly quite literally. Atom did take a blunt force hit there) Not to mention how enthralled I got in the escape pod section. It delivered on the tense atmosphere quite well! Each scene was a good build up to the true reveal of what they are and writing this out makes me want to play it again I won't lie to you

Speaking of that general section, Moon Waltz. I got curious and I ended up screenshotting the lyrics it mentions (because I couldn't tear myself away from that moment to look it up right then) and afterwards looking it up (I found it very fitting for it to mention THAT lyric of all of them. think I said something similar out loud). I ended up listening to the song and got it stuck in my head for nearly 3 weeks straight. It's still one of my favorites to this day :]

Even when I tried getting to bed I was still kept up by writing down little ideas I had for them. I do not think I've ever had a game revive my spark of creativity as fast as Astronought did. I still have a lot of those ideas to get to and I honestly hope I do.

Hopefully this wasn't too much, I'm still getting used to telling creators that I love their work and am a bit new to this, but in summary: This game is incredibly charming and has wormed (HAH) its way into my heart. thank you for creating Astronought, and I wish you well on your future game endeavours o/

Aaaa I don't wanan be self indulgent on main but waaaaa aghaaa,

Working on Astronought last year was meant to be a break from writing MO. I think I manifested something when writing for Atom, they're such a goofy obsessive goober with absurd sci-fi logic almost to the point of comical sometimes and I just had fun with it!!

To think someone noticed all the silly little details that were just meant for me to see when it comes to the file names and references and even the title when I was working on it means so much!! This one is definitely a message I'll come back to over and over, especially for a short one-shot game.

Thank you so much <3<3<3!

[enwoso]

little words | alessia russo x child!reader x leah williamson

cute lil one in honour of it being lessi’s birthday🤍

grumpy masterlist

it was a crisp february morning and sunlight streamed softly through the blinds, warming the cozy bedroom alessia shared with leah.

as alessia stirred awake as she stretched lazily under the duvet. but before she could fully take in the unusual quietness of the morning, she heard the unmistakable sound of giggles and hushed whispers from the other side of the door.

a second late, the door was slowly creaking open as you bounced in, your messy blonde hair bouncing with excitement. as you carried a tray in your small hands, through it was clearly too big for you as leah followed close behind, steadying it with a smile.

"happy brithday, mummy!" you squealed as leah took the try from your hands as you jumped onto the bed, landing on your mummy as a loud grunt came from her as leah set the tray carefully on alessia's lap once you'd moved off to the side.

the tray was perfect: fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup, a bowl of fresh strawberries which you taken a few from before they made it into the bowl and a mug of her favourite coffee in the mug leah always teased her about never washing properly.

a single daisy sat in a little vase which you had taken from your mummy's flower bed on the front lawn but she wouldn't miss one.. the cheerful yellow face of the flower brightening the whole scene as alessia's chest swelled with emotion.

"oh, you two.." alessia said softly, her voice thick with affection. "this is perfect, thank you"

“mummy i helped cut the strawberries!” you exclaimed proudly, your little hands clapping together a big grin on your lips.

“she was very serious about it,” leah added, her grin warm as she perched on the edge of the bed, “i was merely just the assistant!”

alessia chuckled as she glanced between you and leah, “i can tell, it looks delicious!”

the three of them ate together, you launching into an animated story about your breakfast mission while leah chimed in with reading commentary as every so open your slip a chopped strawberry into your mouth from the tray that sat so perfectly on your mummy’s lap.

alessia couldn’t stop smiling, she felt surrounded by so much love that it made her heart ache in the best way. but she couldn’t help but notice the way you and leah kept exchanging little glances— something was up.

after breakfast, you suddenly jumped off the bed and darted to the corner of the room, returning with a small box wrapped in glittery paper which was topped with a slightly lopsided bow.

“here mummy!” you said, thrusting it towards alessia, “your present!”

alessia took it carefully, her fingers brushing over the sparkling wrapping paper. “this looks so special,” she muttered.

“open it! open it!” you urged bouncing on the bed beside your mummy.

alessia smiled as she gently unwrapped the gift, peeling back the paper and seeing a dainty little box as she carefully lifted the lid of the the box.

inside was a delicate silver necklace, a small pendent shaped like a heart. alessia’s breath caught when she noticed the engraving: ‘i love you mummy, lovie xxx’

for a moment she was silent her fingers trembling as she traced over the tiny letters. tears welling in her eyes and her voice broke as she whispered, “oh lovie.. this is beautiful.”

your face lit up, “do you like it mummy?”

“like it?” alessia choked out a laugh, holding the necklace so preciously in her hands, “baby, it’s perfect. i love it. the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen.”

her tears spilled freely now and she reached out to cradle your small and cute little face in her hands, “did you write this all by yourself?”

you nodded furiously, your hand bouncing, “yes! lele helped me but i did write it all by myself!”

alessia heart swelled with so much love she for a moment thought it may burst. “your so clever my lovie.” she kissed your forehead as she hugged you tightly.

leah leaned back against the headboard, her job had been done as she held a knowing smile on her lips as she watched alessia’s reaction.

“you’re going to make me cry all day,” alessia said with a laugh, wiping the tears as she looked over at leah. “you knew this would completely wreck me didn’t you?”

leah smirked, leaning over to brush a thumb under alessia’s eyes. “maybe a little,” she teased. “but it was worth it.”

alessia laughed, her cheeks still wet with tears as she unclasped the necklace and fastened it around her neck. she held the pendant between her fingers letting the light catch on the silver.

“i’m never taking this off,” she promised, her voice trembling again. “i mean it, it’s perfect.”

“mummy you look so pretty.” you smiled you voice full of awe.

alessia pulled you into the gap between her and leah as she hugged you tightly holding you close. “you make me the happiest mummy in the world. thank you lovie.”

you giggled leaning back withal a grin, “your welcome mummy. leah said you’d cry a lot.”

“did she now?” alessia asked, raising a playful eyebrow at leah who shrugged innocently a playful smile on her face.

leah laughed. “i mean i wasn’t wrong was i?”

before alessia could respond, you suddenly jumped off the bed. “wait! i have something else!” you yelled, dashing out the room before either leah or alessia could stop you.

as the sound of your little footsteps faded down the hallway leaving behind a soft echo that seemed to carry the warmth of your small personality.

leah turning attention back to alessia, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as she leaned closer, the faint scent of her perfume mingling with the moment. “you have so no idea how long it took to get her to write that herself.”

alessia only laughed, she could only imagined. the sound bubbling up like sunlight breaking through clouds and reached out to take leah’s hand.

her touch soft yet steady, her fingers curling around leah’s as though grounding herself in the reality of the moment. “it’s perfect. your perfect - both of you.”

leah’s smile softened, her eyes tracing alessia’s features like a map she had memorised but never tired of exploring. slowly she tilted forward, her breath a gentle caress against alessia’s skin as she pressed her lips to alessia’s.

the kiss lingered, warm, tender and unhurried and imbued with a quiet reverence that spoke volumes more than words ever could. it wasn’t just a kiss; it was a promise and unspoken vow to love, protect and cherish.

“you deserve it all less,” leah turned only inches away from the blondes lips. leah’s voice low and rich with emotion as she pulled back just enough to meet alessia’s gaze.

her thumb brushed lightly over the back of alessia’s hand, grounding them both in the intimacy of the moment. “happy birthday, my love.”

alessia sighed, the sound escaping her lips like a release of all the tension she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. her fingers found there way back to the delicate necklace around her neck, brushing over the engraved words with a little reverence which made her heart ache with gratitude.

in that moment, with leah’s warmth still lingering in her skin and the weight of the love they had built between them she had never felt more cherished or more complete in her entire life.

[starvales]

wdym i have a head dent?!

narumi gen / gn!spouse!reader

synopsis : "narumi gen is highly respected in his own division, with every officer following him with determination and every platoon leader dyeing their hair like him as a sign of respect."

content : only crack, fluff, gender neutral reader, reader works in jakdf, a few flashbacks, a little bit more on the lore side, the word beautiful is used to describe the reader, shinonome's age is just a guess, mostly shinonome pov, narumi should have his own warning fr, vice captain and platoon leaders are tired.

words : 1.7k

a/n : you can’t convince me that this man hasn’t went out on a mission with a head dent at least once-

part two of 'a cheers to our youth'

She remembers years ago, newly turned twenty, and nervously standing in front of your desk, arms crossed behind her back, posture rigid.

This would be the first time she will be meeting you in person, rather than listening to your demands through a communicator.

Now is the time to make the best lasting first impression. To prove that she is capable of handling things much bigger than an ordinary officer.

"Thank you very much for deeming me worthy of a rank review! I will not let you down!"

"Don't thank me for something as trivial as just a chance of a promotion. I know you'll do well in the future, Shinonome. The person you really need to impress is the First Captain."

You do not look up from your paperwork, and though many will see this as quite cold and rude, she's heard from numerous people that you simply do not have the time to entertain anything or anyone else within working hours.

The fact that you even spared a one-on-one meeting with her was an honour, and Shinonome will forever respect your dedication. Unfortunately, her lips move to articulate her thoughts before she could stop herself.

"I aspire to contribute to the Defence Force as much as you and Captain Narumi, Head! Please wait for me!" She slaps a hand over her mouth.

Stopping your editing to the paper before you, you look up at her in surprise at her outburst. Shinonome is swift in attempting to correct her statement.

"Uhm...! I did not mean it in that way, Head. A-Apologies for speaking out of line. I'll commence however many push ups-"

"Hahaha!" You made no move to hide your mirth and Shinonome does not know whether to be concerned or relieved at your reaction.

She curses at herself. Dammit, well done, Rin. You definitely made a lasting first impression alright. Great, now Head is gonna see you as a clown vying for their hand.

"No need for the push ups. I appreciate your passion, Shinonome. However, I am already married, so I will have to decline." It seems that you will not let her forget this. How cruel...

Wiping a forming tear at the edge of your eye, you sigh lightheartedly. "It's a good thing that you didn't say that to your Captain or else his head would blow up bigger than it already is!"

By now, the officer is bright red at her blunder before your words catch up to her. Wait, married...? Weren't you only a year or two older than her? Is she already falling behind her peers in yet another department?!

And though she does not say her thoughts aloud this time, you seem to be able to read her befuddled face too well. You hold up your hand and lift two fingers up like a peace sign, a soft smile adorning your own face.

At that moment, Shinonome realises that you are much friendlier in person compared to when you are communicating with Captain Narumi.

During missions, it was like listening to dogs fighting.

"I am two or three years older than you, I think, If I remember reading your files correctly. I just got married really young so don't worry too much about finding love or whatnot for now. Live in the present and all that." You wave off casually.

"If I may be so bold to ask..." Shinonome only now notices the metal band that you adorn around your fourth finger and shyly looks at her own twiddling bare fingers.

"Hm? Go ahead." Your focus is still on her.

"What age did you get married?"

"Eighteen."

"?!"

You burst back into laughter when Shinonome's composed and seemingly nonchalant persona crumbles and she is left there dumbfounded.

A feint 'don't mind' playfully slips out as you excuse yourself to deliver your now finished papers and pat her shoulder on your way to the door.

Shinonome finds that you will truly not let her live down her moment in your office.

Even months later, after she was proven competent and promoted to Platoon Leader. Be it during a mission, passing each other in the corridor, or in a meeting.

("Platoon Leader Shinonome, please wait for me in my office after this." / "Shinonome, please wait for the arrival of new equipment sent over by...." / "Ah, Rin. Thanks for waiting for me, traffic was atrocious today!" All of those interactions being followed by a knowing smirk.)

Despite this, the two of you have grown closer, more casual. Dare she say that the two of you were even friends.

She learnt that you are married to the Narumi Gen and that you have known him since you were children (she had always assumed those endearments he torments you with during missions were a joke).

Learns you prefer drinking iced coffee rather than hot.

You only wear shoes you can very easily slip on.

You like to make edits to documents using a purple pen rather than the standard red.

You personalise your lab coats by stitching your initials and operator number to the cuffs (swearing her to secrecy, you tell her that you also stitch Captain Narumi's initials, but instead at the cuffs, it's hidden inside the pocket over where your heart is).

In spite of your seemingly intimidating work front, you are still very much human.

(Years down the line, Shinonome has well learnt that you were never scary, or aloof, or anything of the sort. She guesses your role in the Defence Force just forces you to seem like it, given your importance.)

Shinonome also learns that you and Narumi dye each other's hair.

"Oh, this?" You motion to the groupings of fresh silver highlights in your hair. The Platoon Leader had to deliver some documents and noticed the change and decided to compliment you on it, it fits you. She asks if you had it done professionally.

It looks really nice... maybe she would suit something similar?

"No, I didn't go to a salon. You think I have the money for that sort of thing?" Yes, yes you do, Head.

"I've been dyeing Captain Loser's hair since we were teenagers, and he decided while we were touching up his roots that it's been a while since we were matching and wouldn't leave me alone otherwise. I didn't get to sleep until two last night!"

You say it with such disdain that if she were a new recruit, she would think that you meant it.

But Shinonome knew you better than that, because you could never hide the adoration that shone through your irises, or the fondness in your smile.

Perhaps, one day, she will meet someone that would elicit the same reaction when talking about her...

"He wanted to do my hair without my help so now there's a chunk of under layer hair that's all silver instead of just highlights. If you look even closer, you might see just bleached bits that he forgot to colour! He botched it!"

She would be lying if she were to say she wasn’t jealous.

You are beautiful and intelligent and considerate and sincere. And though you are not physically strong, you show your strength in a plethora of other ways, your contributions named on newspapers displayed along your office walls are evident of that. Your strategies and tactics have led many to victory and the Eastern Defence Force is as strong as ever.

Truly, you and Narumi Gen are forces to be reckoned with and Shinonome could not be more thankful to be so in reach.

She does not realise she was staring at you for so long until you speak up.

"Ah! Would you like me to do your hair sometime?"

"Oi, Dumbass. Stop trying to act cool in front of the newbies."

Narumi, dramatically posing solemnly atop a fresh kaiju corpse, tilts his head back to face the flying drone's camera and shows off a smirk at the sound of your voice.

"Well, if it isn't my darling dearest, everything okay at Comms?" He waves lazily, but this seems to irk you more.

"You were playing Underwatch, when I told you not to, weren't you." You frame it as a statement, rather than a question.

Everyone in Operations and Officers around Narumi watches as their Captain's jaw drops to the floor, eyes bulging out of his skull.

He is quick to grab at the drone and shakes it wildly, as if it was a person he was trying to gouge information out of. The propellers are swift to turn off, you knew this kind of reaction was coming from miles away.

"Who snitched?!" His face is all up on the camera.

At this point, Narumi knew that it was of his best interest to admit the truth rather than make up excuses on the spot, especially if you used that tone.

But how could you have possibly found out? He even made sure to download a special VPN so you couldn't track his gameplay! Was it Hasegawa? It had to have been Hasegawa. Damn you, Hasegawa-

"Your galactic-sized head dent gave it away. Do you not have enough sense to at least fix it before you leave for duty?" You sigh on the other end of the mic, disappointment evident in your admonishment.

"Huh?"

The drone starts up again and Narumi is forced to let go as it turns to face ninety degrees away from him and projects a hologram of himself, but from his side.

Lo and behold, all of the Captain's hair is sticking straight up, as per usual when he is in combat, except for the areas at the centre of his skull, a clear band of hair matted down with a sheen of presumably sweat.

"Pfft, I hope the news articles capture this very flattering side of you! 'What a loser,' they'll all say." You do your best to cover up a snicker. The drone is now happily emoting like an actual person, tilting side to side as if it were someone's head, taunting him.

"NO!!" Narumi is on his knees, frantically trying to fix his hair while maniacal laughter resonates from the floating device.

From a distance, a certain Platoon Leader watches on, irked. Out of all of the people to admire for the power they bring to the Defence Force, out of all the people to strive to be like, why did it have to be these two?

[n0tamused]

︶꒦꒷‧₊˚Ashes of Honor︶꒦꒷

Summary: King Eurypon has sent out many of his people to hunt down the members of the outcast army, and rumors of dragons and beasts have brought in promises of honor and riches. Will you be the one to return successful and reap the rewards of honor, or will you meet a 'glorious' death like so many others before you? Contents: very canon divergent, Dragon Mydei AU, GN! Kremnoan reader, some violence/blood, use of you/your but also Y/n. Words: 4172

A/N: I am so happy to present this piece to you all! I don't remember the last time I wrote this much for a fic, or this happily tbh, I was really brainstorming this to find the best plotline and I really went on yapping. As you may notice once you read through, there is a chance I may end up writing pt 2. I already have a lot of notes written down, so we'll see how it goes. Tysm for the people enabling me with my dragon propaganda lol Ily! I did my best to keep this consistent so I hope all that work paid off. Please enjoy! Art in the header is done by me!

-Also, if you'd like to see how I've drawn Mydei as a dragon - here's the link to that post!

Rock and dirt sat still beneath the gold painted skies, sashes of red swirling like silk scarves discarded as the earth came alive with each sparse breeze. The air was stale and smelled of iron and old bone. And the sun, a giant orb held on the back of the distant titan’s back, was dipping beneath the smoke. The smoky fingers were swallowing the horizon whole, turning the world into bleak chaos beyond the expanse of those colors meant to symbolise triumph. 

It had been days since you last saw a proper face. And even longer since you had a taste of home, or any proper food for the matter. You were no poor hunter by any means, but game was scarce in these lands. Yesterday you stood over an edge if a mountain, taking in the view of Castrum Kremnos. A small anthill in the distance with two smaller anthills beside it, marking the smaller cities. 

There is blood on the ground now. Dotted in small splatters here and there, almost as dark as the earth itself; were it not so glossy you would have missed it. The smell of iron mingled in the air, intertwining with the sea of moving fog. Or smoke. Or perhaps it was magic? The question was as abrupt as it was absurd, making you huff a faint laugh; you wanted to scold yourself for feeling so pathetic, for thinking that way, but the rapid beating of your heart and the ache in your legs swallowed up any sense of ‘you’. Whatever was tracking these footsteps was simply following commands and instinct, a dangerous concoction that was currently leading you to possible doom. ‘Glory’, you hastily reminded yourself, ‘it is leading me towards triumph and a way back to honour ‘.

People of Kremnos were no strangers to trials and the ways of combat, and it was only natural they would develop various ways to test their very souls to see how far they can really go, even if it meant destruction of the self. There was no room for frailty, no room to wiggle out and turn back to come empty handed - such a fate would be worse than death. 

Perhaps that is why you kept marching on, your aching legs eating up the steep incline that led to an open mouth of a cave. Jagged teeth of rock lined the entrance, a piece of cloth hung off one, fluttering in the dying breeze. It was the same color of cloth of the man you were hunting, his traitorous blood speckling the ground. It was so dry, your throat was dry, and the earth seemed to breathe beneath your sandals as if it were alive. There was a distant light somewhere further in the yawning darkness, just around the corner as you made your way inside. The first few steps into the cave showed it to be narrow like a hall of a home, a slithering path that curved and would have posed a good advantage even to a dying man, were he to be interested in such an ambush - but it seemed he had no interest in such schemes. 

A small piece of you felt like smiling at the thought of him being too fearful to confront you, but you did not allow yourself to feel triumphant just yet. His soul still clung to its mortal shell and until you separated the two, you could not rest. The task suddenly seemed too heavy to think about, and where a smile would have graced your features, a frown took place instead. An odd lurching feeling was tugging at your stomach ever since you saw him turn on his heel and run. You had caught him by surprise upon a cleft on a hill, overlooking the valley below, but he was quick to flee after you landed a blow on him, cutting off a brooch pinning his short cloak to his shoulder. A token of where his loyalty lay. The brooch of outcasts. Traitors. They were all just traitors.

The word was spoken more oft than not in Castrum Kremnos, and it would seem that the King’s every speech began with the same. You wondered many times what his own son could've done to earn such foul words from his own father, that young boy you once glimpsed in the city with big golden eyes. Now that same boy led a rogue army outside the walls of Castrum Kremnos, bowing to no one. And with every speech, King Eurypon showed you a side of the Prince you could not even imagine, him and his lackeys pillaging towns and taking as they pleased.

It was the King’s wish and the King’s order to see their heads on spikes, especially the Prince’s head. And anyone who succeeded in bringing even one head back would be rewarded handsomely. Just like lions were hunted for their pelt and teeth, they were being hunted so one could prove themselves able in defending their honor and their people. But the feeling it gave you was odd, overripe and bitter on your tongue. The King spoke of the Prince’s transgressions, betrayals and murders, the sacking of villages and petty crimes. He spoke of every thing that could hate a man, but too much of one thing is bound to stir a person, and it was making you suspicious. 

There were many questions you no longer knew how to answer as the darkness ate your vision when you were made to crawl through a small passing, only to enter a large section of the cave - still poorly illuminated, with the only light coming from an opening in the ceiling several dozen feet above.  Specks of dust flew in the lone, fading lance of light.

A large hole stood in the middle like Mother Earth's open mouth, a gateway to a place much darker and more painful than a shadow. Where did he go, did he fling himself from the edge? 

A blade sprouted from the shadow, flinging itself at you from the hand which held it. It whistled overhead and down into the gnawing abyss. You spun around and met the assailant head on just as he put his weight into the spear which seemed to have emerged from the sandy underfoot. His step was lame and his skin appeared pale, his side stained with blood. While a spear was an excellent weapon to use to run through someone with the small point of it, it made it all the easier to avoid. Whatever force guided you felt not your own, your blood was running thin and boiling with all the years spent sweating underneath the scornful eye of your tutor. 

“An attack from the shadows?” you growled. “Suits you just right, you vermin” you spat with venom you did not know you possessed. His other hand came down upon you, mailed and heavy and it sent you reeling back from him, yet your grasp on his spear remained steady, pulling him stumbling along with you. Pain shot through your nose and up the side of your head, and the next blow you landed on him held less power than you anticipated, yet it left him breathless nonetheless. 

He grunted and stumbled, staggering before putting his entire weight into his shoulder to ram you into the cave wall once he felt your grasp pull again on his, now useless, weapon. He took the opportunity of your shock to wrench the spear free of your hold and prepare for another chance at using it. Your knees had given out from below you and you found yourself on the fleeting sandy ground, dry and shifting. 

With your heart drumming a deathly beat in your lungs you lurched for his knees in an embrace full of ire that it sent him tumbling back on his back. Not knowing whether to grasp for you or you or his spear first, the man was caught unprepared. He grasped for your wrists, discarding his spear, feeling blindly as you went to grab the bone hilt of your dagger to wrench it from its sheath, the sound as loud as a whistle to your ears, even over the thunderous beat of your heart. Adrenaline never tasted so sweet as survival hung on by a golden thread of light. To kill or be killed, to kill him or return empty handed to the city. 

“You of the rats that crawl over these lands, what name do you bear?” you questioned, his grip strong around your hand even as you inched the tip of the blade closer. Closer. Right there. Above his heart. His calloused hands seized your wrist, looking for ways to wrench the blade from your hold.

“Leonnius.” He struggled with the word, blinking rapidly as sweat beaded down his brow. He gave an angry huff, pushing back but you only put more weight over him. The sandy ground seems to yearn to swallow him with how it embraced him the more weight you placed onto him, hugging him like a lover. “And who are you?”

The light shone in his eyes like an orb containing his very soul, staring back at you with hope or desire akin to a burning flame eating at dry wood. Poison bubbled up your throat, you could taste it as you grit your teeth, your eyes swallowing the sight underneath you like a pill too large. 

You pried your hand from his hold, raised it high and spoke with the voice you only recognised as that one of the King:

“Death” the blade came rushing down. But the target was missed as the entire earth, the cave, suddenly roared to life. From the yawning darkness came a sound so shrill and loud it rattled your bones, like wind through the hollow of the trees. Even Leonnius winced at the sound and shivered. 

Leonnius pushed you away in haste, knocking the air from your lungs after he had twisted your own blade from your hold, slicing you across the arm and boiled leather you wore for armor. 

Through the shaking of the ground you could only land a punch on the man, and this time he went over the edge due to the thunderous quaking of the world, falling into the abyss that was waking up. A shout, a sickening thud, and more groaning of the cave did not serve to ease your racing heart. If the ground swallowed him, you'd have no proof to show for your quest. 

Yet, whatever thoughts of the quest you had vanished when the chasm moaned with ire again.

Then came the breaking, the growl, a heavy sound of something clawing its way out from the depths of Tartarus itself to tower over you. Whatever light there once was, was no more as the shadow stood above you, balanced over cliffs and edges that surrounded the deep pit in the middle of the large cave room. The shadow had eyes of molten gold, otherworldly… and angry.

There was no word for ‘fear’ in Kremnoan, but the feeling of your heart seizing at the sight of the towering beast might have given it a name in that very moment, a word even more terrifying than fear itself. Death bowed its thick neck and opened its maw, the moment flowing as slow as sand on even ground, and you stood frozen where you stood. Gold and red light filled its throat, and the large sword-like teeth glared at you, wondering how they’ll look stained with whatever remains of you. The beast was colored in shades of red and peach, great curling horns a deep red and the great beast wore pieces of iron shields and chains as ornaments along its upper body.

You found your back pressed against the rocky wall, the sharp edges digging into your back. If you had returned empty handed, you would have been humiliated, ridiculed and left to live in shame - a fate worse than death. 

Blood pumping, you pushed yourself off the wall in the very last moment before the fire came to lick up at the rock and sand, narrowly dodging the heat. Screams filled your head, fighting to win over the choice of to run or fight. The voice wishing to fight had a strange tone, as if multiple people spoke all at once, and you recognized one voice as that of your tutor. The other side was your mother, begging you to return. 

You flung yourself forward, picking up your blade and launching it up at the dragon’s head. The blade bounced off of the hide, of its brow, clattering down the abyss.

“A Kremnoan..”

Was it death’s servant come to collect you that spoke, or Death itself? Your lungs were burning, muscles taut as bow strings and aching. Suddenly, you were all too aware of your frailty, of how small you were.

“This one found me by the east point, scouting, I never thought they’d give this much pursuit”

It was Leonnius who spoke now, although you did not see him, he was somewhere below. His voice was distant, almost weak.

“Yet another foolish one, to come after you this far..”

Your heart sank to your feet as the beast drew closer again. There was a distinct smell of flesh and char in the air which had turned too warm, something you internally told yourself that you can handle - it is the sharp swords for teeth you were worried for, staring right at you.  

Your mother's voice was heard again. What is disgrace beside a mother's love for her child? Return to the city. ‘But the King and the others will be furious..’

Suddenly, the earth gave way beneath your weight and you went stumbling back through a small archway of the cave, tumbling over a ledge that led to the small path concealed from the dragon, and soon your feet found the quick rhythm needed. There was a blast of flames that lit up the hidden section, the heat licking at your back and sending you speeding further up, climbing until your lungs threatened to light the way forward. The ground rumbled all around, and when you inevitably came through the exit point, you were met face to face with the dragon again, his head peering at you over the edge before he pulled himself higher up. The sight of those molten gold eyes peering over the edge made your heart leap into your throat. Those great claws scratched and sang an eerie rhythm over stone and thickly packed dirt, once threatening to undo an entire section. You would find no exit here, and the darkness encroaching on the sides of the cave gave no sign of the tunnel you crawled through in the first place.

“It is the King’s orders you are obeying. That weak excuse of a king sent you here to kill on his command” there was no question in the beast's gravely tone, but certainty.  The heavy muscle of his tail swished behind him in slow but powerful motions, and for a second you thought you glimpsed not one, but two men looking up at the event unfolding from the cliff below. 

“Yes! He has!” you proclaim with the last strong grasp of courage, steeling your tone to sound less frail than you felt. The gaze of the dragon was alluring, hypnotic in a way that gave you pause, even if your heart throbbed for the open skies. There were rumors of the Prince having strange pets on his side, but a dragon was not the rumor you had ever believed in, until now “And I surely will..”.

That last part earned itself a great bark of a laugh, and the edges of the dragon’s mouth drew up, twisting and revealing the glistening teeth once more. 

 “A brave, but a stupid thing to be said by one so…” his head bowed down, looking as if he tried to make himself level with your height, “-small”. He was the foot of a man over an anthill, huffing in your direction to send you hurrying along.  A golden glint overcame his grand eyes while he watched you side step in half-calculated and rushed steps, coming near yet another tunnel, or what you believed was another tunnel Yet, on another glance, it was revealed to be a fireplace casted in shadow, burnt wood sitting dormant in a pile of ashes. The dragon did not speak now, but he could sense you swallowing your unease, watching how your mind raced and came up empty of a solution. 

He did not unleash another blast, instead he seemed to have listened to something another man had said from below, something having mentioned your name.. Kremnos..King Eurypon... Was that the Prince?

“And how do you propose you’d get through me?” he began, but gave you enough pause to have you want to respond, before he continued.

“My scales are like steel armor, no blade can penetrate it, and even if you managed to stab your toothpick through it, you would not kill me. How do you propose to reclaim your honour?” 

You found yourself swimming in doubts, torn between the voice of your mother on one side and your people on the other. But your fate was tied to this cave with no exit. No one will even know you've died, or how you died. 

“Your master is Kremnoan as much as I - and we both know all living things can die, and that includes you. Surely he taught you lessons of your own mortality. One way or another.. you will die. Even if I must die by the end of it, it can be done. It matters not to me if it takes days or months or years” a resolute step forward was your display of courage. 

This time around, the huff of amusement did not seem so cheerful as before, perhaps sensing your lack of passion, or perhaps he was reading your mind this entire time.  The dragon adjusted his grip on the nearby ledge and rose a few feet up once more. 

“What has that mad king promised you? Lands..riches..titles..? I do not disagree that I'll see a day where one such as you kills me, but it is a shame it will not be you, you will not be here to see it” he grumbled with a long breathy sound of the last words, then, he hissed: “The man you call your King has weighed the value of your life, among many others before you, and found it worth nothing”. 

What you felt was not anger, as you expected, not disbelief, you did not feel offended, but a deep sense of disappointment filled you, rejection. What for exactly, you could not say, or did not allow yourself to acknowledge. “Are you mad?” you spat, willing yourself to fight even if felt futile, unwilling to let yourself fall for such schemes. Dragons were known for their mischief and lies, their mind control, you reminded yourself, hands curling into a fist. You inhale swiftly in a hiss, stepping forward until your heavy footsteps cast pebbles and sand to fly over the edge as the Beast sighed and pulled himself back from you.

Rejection was a hard pill to swallow for anyone, but rejection of a battle, for a Kremnoan? It felt worse than death. The Beast who could dispose of you with a simple opening of his maw was backing away from giving you the combat you so desperately needed, and pulling away his life along with it from your reach. 

“You are being used, Y/n. Do not bother denying it” he said as he went back down to the level you initially made contact with him, retreating in slow, measured steps. The light from above seemed brighter now again, when he was no longer blocking it. The light briefly illuminated the red stripes over his large body. His wings were twice the size of the average dragon, or what you imagined they'd be anyway - they looked awfully large. He had to bend them and keep them close to his body when shifting; he used the great clawed thumb on the wings to grasp at the walls around him, painting an image of a large, muscular spider, horned and a thousand times more terrifying. 

A hundred things ran through your head, ranging from anger to sadness to relief - but it did not change the fact you would need to return to the city empty handed and disgraced further. That is, if you could even find a way out. Given his retreat, did he mean to watch you starve? Wither away like a flower with no water? No, that can't do.

“You toy with me” you said through grit teeth before you were made to go down the tumbling, dark tunnel once more to catch up to him. You could no longer see where the other two men went, nor did you care much. They were there,  prowling in the shadow.

“You humor me with your soft talk. For a castaway Prince infamous for his bloodthirst, I expected more of his lap dog! Is your master so scared that he even denies me his audience?!” You growled at him as you went running to the edge of the ledge again, sneering and grasping at straws. Along the way you plucked up the discarded spear.

“Is this what has become of you, oh great Prince?” You shouted into the void so the runaway Prince may hear your words, but your voice wavered as the dragon froze in place, his head dipped in shadow, save his eyes.

“I give you the choice to leave and you do not take it.. You are either naive or stupid to think you have any grand to stand on. But brave or honourable, you are not. For a honourable one would see the folly in this matter and turn away from it. You cannot kill me even if you do have to…” he swished his tail angrily, stirring sand and rocks as he adjusted himself on another ledge, but he still seemed to fill in the cave. “I do not fight uncertain vermin, for that would bring dishonour to me”. He spoke after a moment, as if thinking his words over. There was a melody of humor and melancholy simultaneously mingling between those words in a sound that grated your ears from within, so much so that goosebumps rose over your skin - something you were tempted to blame the cold of the cave for. Your prior altercation with Leonnius seems to have not gone unnoticed by the dragon. 

“Be gone, Y/n of Kremnos”

Silence overtook you like a silent vice. Squeezing your throat until it threatened to turn blue and purple but you were standing at the edge of the world with your feet planted in drying concrete, overlooking the chasm that wished to reject you. It was a long way down the mountain, and even longer way back to rock bottom you had hoped to avoid returning to. 

His shaking footsteps began to recede again, moving away from you. His head dipped and his body turned to face away from you to dive back into the abyss.

Shame swam into your lungs like a slimy eel and you wished to weep. The flame of hope you had clung onto was gone and all you could do was stare at the spikes and fins in the middle of the dragon’s back, moving in an odd, hypnotic way similar to a jagged wave lapping at a shore. Was this it?

The Dragon churred an angry melody once you landed on his back, small feet padding across the vast expanse of his spine before the tiny tip of the spear began poking at his scales. He groaned and his mouth filled with smoke, belly full of fire as he turned his head to snap his jaws at you. 

The scales were tough, impenetrable, marked by countless other scratches and scars and broken arrow points. The Beast snapped his jaws, once, twice, and the question of why he had not outright blasted you with a wash of flame did not dawn on you as anger blinded you. Every action was driven by anger, grief, envy - why could you not be like the other warriors, soldiers, like him.

“I will not go back! On my mother's name, I will not!” 

Suddenly, the dragon roared, a sound so shrill and terrifying it shook the cave and golden blood splashed across your face as the spear found its way between broken scales. He stumbled, and then you were falling. He had breathed a great puff of flame into the air before you had found yourself groundless. And that small flash of light allowed you to see the figure now falling with you, below you. His eyes, golden, glowing, and surprised. You knew those eyes. And now your heart filled with dread. 

Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[elodieunderglass]

Hi! I've been loving your Killie posts, somewhat obsessively. I've talked to my husband and housemate about them, and about all the jockey info you've shared. Killie brings me great joy, and I can't wait for your book!

I also, incidentally, have been trying to write a book myself for...most of my life??

The folly inherent in this endeavor is Very High (learning disorder from hell, three children under two, computer's been broken for like two years, etc., etc.), but I keep maniacally coming back to it. I have a notebook full of notes and, at long last, a new computer coming on Friday. In short, I know this is super weird and we don't know each other at all, but if there is any way to engage in parallel play long-distance, just say the word. 😅

(In reference to Killie and the fact that he needs a book, which, unfortunately, implies me writing it.

I meant what I said! We’re being brave and doing it together! This year, okay?

I completely understand and have so much sympathy for your circumstances…. I remember when I was writing Strange Pilgrims, which is “only” a fanfic, but it’s a pretty deep and heartfelt thing in its way, and I didn’t have a computer to write it on. Buying a refurbished laptop to finish that thing felt MONUMENTAL. Enjoy the moment of the new laptop and the new chapter it will bring. By buying it in the first place, you have committed yourself to saying “yes.”

If something lights up your brain like that, it’s a gift of splendid rarity. And that kind of gift catches in other people and they can enjoy it more because of its sincerity. I firmly believe that the gift you have been given is worth accepting and honouring, no matter what form it may take in the end. You’ve said yes! You’ve bought the laptop!

One thing I’m very good at it is accountability, so what I’m going to do is schedule a reblog of this ask for one month from now, tagging you in it. And I will chase you down - lovingly, like a greyhound chasing the… er….. moon. I am going to ask you how it is going. If you haven’t progressed at all, that’s fine - you’ll get a gold star. There’s no shame in not doing anything.

If you have started to build something, get words on paper or whatever your process looks like, I will give you (slaps roof of pockets) a present. Your very own Tumblr “phase of the moon” badge. I genuinely like having one, because it reminds me to think about the moon.

And also I will give Killie one (1) egg of his very own. With the yolk in.

If Killie does nothing else in his life he IS standing over your shoulder staring at you with big dark eyes like a drowned starving cat, hoping you’ll write, so he can have an egg.

It’s a deal

🤝

[reagent-leon]

Let's talk about pre-Sinyala Coyle!!

Okay so, I’m really into character design, and I’ve noticed that a lot of people who draw pre-Sinyala Coyle tend to miss out some cool details about his Blackwell uniform. So, I figured I’d break it all down, covering 1950s fashion conventions, how Coyle blatantly ignores them, why he gets away with it, and some extra points about his overall dodgy behaviour. Because this post spiralled out of control.

Before we jump in, a quick note: Because of the comic’s style, there are definitely some inconsistencies, but I’ll do my best to piece things together. If you're into history, fashion, and Leland Coyle, stick around 🖤

First, some historical context.

Whether we like it or not, personal grooming and aesthetics have always played a big role in how we’re perceived. But in the 1950s, fashion wasn’t as focused on self-expression as it is today. Rather than standing out, most people aimed for conformity, with conservative ideals and public perception heavily influencing fashion choices. How someone dressed and presented themselves to the world immediately signalled their social status, character, and values. Maintaining a facade of respectability and adhering to social norms was a priority for most.

After World War II, being clean-shaven became a key part of a man's appearance. This was partly inspired by young men who had served in the military. Veterans accustomed to shaving daily carried the habit into civilian life. Of course, not everyone was clean-shaven, but facial hair was generally more common among older generations, as well as musicians, and actors, people who could flout convention without damaging their reputations.

By the mid-1950s, however, facial hair started making a bit of a comeback, thanks to cultural icons like Elvis Presley and Johnny Cash. Alternative hairstyles, especially those associated with greasers, weren’t widely accepted in professional settings. Instead, they became symbols of rebellion, linked to actors, outcasts, and those who rejected the status quo rather than conventional, well-to-do citizens.

With that out of the way, let's talk about Coyle!

Thanks to the comics and in-game documents, we know that Coyle meets Clyde Perry in a Blackwell diner on February 16th 1956. Based on what we can piece together from his past, Coyle would have been around 33 years old at the time. Perry’s account of the altercation directly tells us that Coyle was well-liked and respected within his community.

Blackwell was (and perhaps still is) an extremely conservative town, where conformity to social norms would have been enforced through intense social pressure. The fear of negative judgment would have kept most people compliant. This makes Coyle’s deviation from 1950s conventions all the more apparent, though when we consider his past, things begin to make a bit more sense.

From both the comics and Coyle’s in-game dialogue, we know he had a troubled childhood (details to follow in a separate post). His adolescent delinquency eventually landed him in a military academy. However, his honourable service in the U.S. Marine Corps during World War II, combined with his undeniable charisma likely convinced most locals that he was a reformed man, paving the way for his position as a police sergeant.

His rough-around-the-edges persona may have only added to his charm, allowing him to get away with behaviour that might have otherwise raised eyebrows, such as openly flirting with a waitress or publicly beating a man senseless.

Although Coyle is primarily depicted as a silhouette in most full-body images, we can still piece together details of his uniform. Interestingly, his attire aligns more with a 1940s police officer than one from the mid-1950s. This could be a deliberate design choice to emphasize how both Coyle and the town he rules over are stuck in the past.

His uniform has a few key features:

Sam Browne belt – A leather belt with a supporting strap that runs over the shoulder and connects to a waist belt.

Standing collar & shoulder boards – Formal elements more common in earlier decades.

Shoes instead of boots – Just a note for the artists in the room. 

Utility belt essentials – Includes a handgun, handcuffs, and a nightstick, which were standard for the time.

We get a clearer look at the general appearance of his uniform from some of the police cutouts in the Trials, though none of them feature a Sam Browne belt.

Coyle’s hair defies the social conventions of the time. It isn’t styled into any particular fashion and appears free of product, an unusual choice for a police officer, who would typically be expected to maintain a polished image, if not for personal pride, then at least for professionalism's sake. His hairline is noticeably receding, and it’s possible he combed it forward to disguise the thinning. By the time the events of the game take place, he’s completely bald, whether from stress-induced hair loss or simply shaving it once the recession became too obvious to hide. Pure speculation on my part. 

His stubble, mussed hair, and unfastened top button suggest that when he meets Perry, he’s either finished work for the day or, at the very least, on his lunch break.

I found a few references of what I think Coyle's hair would look like because the comic is very bad at keeping it consistent. I went out of my way to find a guy with sideburns too. (Don't say I never do anything for you.) It's also worth noting that Julian Bailey, Coyle's VA had a receding hairline in years past. It's my personal belief that they used Julian's face as a reference for this younger version of Coyle.

As a ‘respectable’ police sergeant, he should present himself as buttoned-up, clean, and tidy, proudly representing the Blackwell Police Department and setting a good example for his subordinates. Instead, everything about his presentation suggests a man who sees himself as above reproach, someone who enforces social conventions but doesn’t feel the need to follow them himself. In fact, one could argue he’s rewarded for breaking them, receiving positive attention from women despite (or perhaps because of) his disregard for propriety.

Coyle placing his hat on the waitress is a particularly bold move, especially given the strict dating conventions of the 1950s. Historically, a man placing his hat on a woman's head was a flirtatious gesture, a subtle but effective way of ‘claiming’ her, particularly in cowboy culture (Coyle’s parents were cattle ranchers, cowboy Coyle is canon).

In this context, it’s unlikely to be a genuine display of interest. More than anything, it’s a power play, a deliberate act of pushing the limits of propriety while asserting his dominance. The real impact comes when Perry walks in, seeing Coyle has already ‘marked his territory,’ immediately undermining Perry and ensuring he feels off-balance in the face of Coyle’s effortless machismo. 

At the comic's conclusion, while Perry is driving away, injured but alive, he looks back to see Coyle standing outside the diner, wearing his police cap. At some point, he must have retrieved it from the waitress, likely with a charming, offhand apology for making a scene. Coyle doesn’t need to kill Perry to send a message, because letting him live IS the message. And Perry hears it loud and clear.

A quick side note, this isn’t so much about Coyle’s appearance, but rather his character.

When Oklahoma became a state in 1907, it adopted prohibition as part of its constitution, remaining a dry state up until 1959. Alcohol was largely banned, though moonshiners and speakeasies operated in secret, often with local law enforcement turning a blind eye. As a consequence, one of the only widely acceptable alcoholic beverages was “low-point beer” a drink containing just 3.2% alcohol, considered non-intoxicating under state law.

Perry states that Coyle ‘drank heavily’ before their encounter, but the fact that it was low-alcohol beer explains how he could be four pints down and still completely in control when it came to beating Perry.

It’s possible Coyle was pulling a deliberate ruse, letting Perry believe he was drunker than he actually was. If so, it wasn’t just about drinking, it was a test. Coyle may have wanted to see if Perry would try to take advantage of what seemed like a weakened opponent, only to prove that he was never at a disadvantage to begin with.

For a police officer to drink so openly in a conservative Christian town flies in the face of everything he’s supposed to uphold. Yet no one seems to care, or at least, no one dares to challenge him. Maybe it’s fear. Maybe it’s respect. Either way, Coyle knows exactly what he can get away with, and he enjoys every second of it.

There are plenty of inconsistencies in the comic, and the art style doesn’t always make the details easy to see. Honestly, I could spend forever picking it apart and analyzing it, and one day, I probably will.

But in the meantime… I hope it's been informative. And I hope that some artists who draw pre-Sinyala Coyle will start depicting him in his Blackwell uniform. As much as I love a leather jacket, I’m a sucker for those military-style uniforms.

I hope you enjoyed this little dive into Coyle and his antics. Before I wrap up, I’m leaving you with a picture I annotated—it was meant to be the main image for this post, but... it’s awful. Apologies in advance if it hurts your eyes.

If you enjoyed my descent into madness, please inflict it upon your friends. I welcome friendly and constructive conversation in the comments. And hey, if you think I’m talking out of my arse, that’s your prerogative! This wasn’t meant as a critique, just the ramblings of someone who spends far too much time pondering the hows and whys of this man.

Well done if you made it this far, and thank you for reading!

As usual big shoutout to the Coyle Crew @misa-bun @decayinghost @soggy-bean for enabling me