#and I’m learning the words to describe stuff I’ve always admired but never had the vocabulary to properly Research

[maramahan]

Didn’t think I’d be up until 1am reading about limestone but I guess life is full of surprises

#just me rambling #worldbuilding is fun #it turns out karst formations are FACINATING #and I’m learning the words to describe stuff I’ve always admired but never had the vocabulary to properly Research #TODAY I HAVE LEARNED SOMETHING NEW AND MY WORLD IS RICHER FOR IT #gosh #I really just #I wanna go hang out in a cave

[lys1]

Congratulations! You waited so patiently <3 This is another Asra x fem!reader for you. NSFW. 5218 words. 

Playing With Potions

—————

The late spring morning air was warming up to be a balmy 75 degrees. You had your skirt pulled down and up, tucked in the back of the waistband, forming makeshift shorts. The shop was somewhat quiet, yet the din from the streets made its nimble way through the open windows.

You descend the ladder to the box of ingredients you were unpacking. They had come in the previous evening and Asra had promptly asked you to “organize them later”. Of course you said yes, the two of you shared this shop after all, and the work that came with it.

Asra himself was bustling behind the counter, sweeping the wooden floors free of the dust and fallen ingredients. He stops momentarily to pick up his cup of tea and take a long sip. The jasmine tea's steam billows into his face as he sighs with content pleasure.

The floorboards creak as you step down and Asra looks over at you, gaze soft. "How's the supplies look, dear?" He asks curiously, returning the cup to it’s coaster.

"Ah," you muse, counting the small containers in your hands. "Looks like we will be all set on lizard toes for a while, I think our supply captain read 1000 instead of 100." You can't help but chuckle, it couldn't be helped, at least you wouldn’t have to order more for a while.

Asra's eyes open a little wider, "oh my." He laughs, "I suppose we won’t". He sets his broom to rest against the counter and bare feet pad over to you, his deep-purple eyes examining the products.

You feel his hand settle on your waist subconsciously; a side effect of being close to one another. You breathe in lightly, smelling the sweet scent of coconut and honied biscuits wash over you. Asra's breakfast choice was apparent.

"Mm," you say, turning so the two of you were face to face. "You smell delicious."

Asra smiles, box in his hand now a little less important. "Care for a taste?" He teases, eyes falling to your parted lips. He sets his lizard toes aside and joins his other hand at your waist. You look up at him through your eyelashes and nod.

He is a mere millimeter from sealing the gap between you when the bell of the shop jingles merrily.

"Ah jeez," you huff good in good nature. "I forgot we have jobs and responsibilities."

Asra laughs at your obvious disappointment and steals a small peck. "Unfortunately, we have to eat somehow." He then turns away and walks back to the counter to greet the customer.

The man is short and has a little round face. He looks extraordinarily nervous, and this catches your attention. Yours and Asra's shop is well known in the city and the townsfolk trust their magicians. You hadn't seen anyone come in here looking so nervous, and maybe even a little embarrassed.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Asra asks charmingly, resuming his position behind the counter. Briefly you let yourself admire how nice he looks, comfortable in his shop and expertise, before turning back to the box you were supposed to be dealing with. Not, however, letting your ears miss the conversation.

"I," the man starts, already fumbling with his words. "I, well look. I need help." He finishes plainly, nervously clutching his shirt between his pudgy hands.

Asra smiles kindly, "many do." He says, tilting his head and examining his new client. "Are you here for a card reading? Need to get some answers?"

The man groans as though he is already exhausted with the conversation. "No, I already know what I need. I have the answers. I've heard about this place. The ways you can help people. I live an hour out of the market and I made this trip just to see you."

"We're flattered, for sure." Asra says calmly, you can hear slight annoyance in his tone from all the ambiguity. The visitor is none the wiser though. "To help you though," Asra continues. "I'll need to know what you need."

"Alright I need a potion," the man finally reveals. "One that will help me... with performance." His cheeks are redder than a bell pepper in the sun.

Asra raises a white eyebrow, "performance? Are you an actor?"

"No!" The man's voice came out in a strangled whisper, obviously trying to keep it down. You roll your eyes, chancing a glance over your shoulder. The shop floor wasn't that big, of course you were going to hear everything.

"No," he said again, this time a little more composed. "What I mean is... my sex life performance." The truth comes out. Your visitor wipes his forehead with a dirty rag from his pocket. "My wife and I well.. we've hit a slump," he explains. "And I've heard of potions that can help with that kind of thing. Stuff that will completely change the game." His eyes are shining now, imaging life post-performance potion.

Asra looks uncertain at best. "I see," he starts, shooting you a glance. "That.. does exists. But it takes awhile to make. And the price isn't cheap either."

You shove the last of the crow feathers into their designated drawer while listening. You have never heard of such a potion, but you were also still learning. Asra sounds a little unsure though.

"Price isn't an issue," the man sounds desperate. "I'll pay anything."

Asra sighs, he feels bad for the man wringing his hands before him, practically crying for a cure. "Alright," he finally concedes. "I'll make it, but you'll have to come back in the morning. This kind of thing takes all evening to brew."

Your customer nods vigorously, "I can wait." He says. "Tomorrow morning, yes! I'll be here!" His excitement apparent, he bows a few times while backing out of the door, tripping over his own feet.

The door closes with a sharp bang and the bell rings furiously. Asra blows air out of his mouth so that itf ruffles the curls between his eyes.

"Well," he says after a moment. "A sex performance enhancing potion was not what I was expecting to make today." He rubs his temples, eyes closed and looking thoughtful.

You grin at him from the shelf as you pick up the empty shipping box and rest it on your hip. "That's quite the name, I've never heard of a potion like that."

Asra laughs and opens his beautiful eyes to look at you. "Yes, you'll have to forgive me for not teaching you that kind of magic, it's not the.. safest." He ends uncertainly. "I don't even know how this guy found out about it. It's not talked about much amongst us magicians.. and it's certainly not a common one."

Immediately more questions than your mouth can keep up with flood your brain. "So how did you find out about it? And why isn't it safe?" You ask the two more important ones, eyes following Asra as he finds a piece of paper and quill to use.

He dips his quill in the register's ink well and starts scratching down what you presumed to be ingredients. "I've been studying magic for years, my love." He says simply, "and before you ask, no I haven't used it on myself." He looks up at you, mischief dancing in his pretty eyes. "I'd like to think my sex game is up to par." He adds innocently, licking his lips seductively when your ears tinge pink.

You brush imaginary dirt off your shirt sleeves and huff. "I suppose it's pretty good." You mumble. It almost feels like a lie to just describe it as "pretty good" but Asra doesn't need you to stroke his ego right now. You do that enough falling to pieces beneath him every night.

Asra is well aware of your attempt to keep him humble and laughs lightly. "And to answer your other question," he says, turning back to his ingredient list, "messing with ones body like this can be dangerous. You have to be very precise."

You nod as he explains, it makes sense.

Potions are always brewed in pots over a magic fire so you put yourself to work, removing a medium sized iron pot from a hook on the wall and carrying it to a fire stand. Asra is busy himself, opening various drawers and adding seemingly random ingredients to a basket he has looped over his arm. Iris petals, newt eyeball, and some shimmering gold flakes. You smile watching him, your gorgeous magician; smart and able.

In no time at all Asra has a bubbling pot of sweet smelling liquid stirring before him. You stand beside him, observing curiously.

"Why are you wearing gloves?" You ask, taking note of the large leather gloves that clad all the way up your lover's forearm.

Asra continues to stir and looks over at you, happy to hear your eagerness to learn. "I can't risk even a drop of this touching my skin. It's so strong, and will immediately absorb into anyone's skin, leaving them..." He shakes his head and trails off, amused. "That's why it has to brew so long, to burn off some of the potency."

Your mouth opens in amazement, taken aback by the idea. This is the real deal you decide, stepping back a couple inches in precaution. After watching the potion bubble for a couple more minutes you stretch and grab the watering can sitting by the floor of the door.

"I'm going to water the plants," you inform Asra, waving your hand briefly until the can is full of cool, crisp water. Gods knows there are at least three dozen inside and outside of the shop.

Asra is humming in confirmation that he heard you as you open the shop door to the plants hanging outside. You don't get very far before you're blindsided by a streak of purple darting through your legs.

Escape!

"Faust?!" You yelp, dancing around the squirming snake as she winds her way under and into the open shop. A loud, booming bark makes you jump again. This time a large hound dog is rounding the tight corner from the side street and barreling full speed towards you.

All hell breaks loose. The water can is up in the air, crashing wildly into the side of the building. You are thrown back onto the dusty floor and a mass of fur and teeth race past you, paying no mind to your yelling.

Help!

Faust is racing around the floor, narrowly avoiding the jaws of the angry dog she seemed to have aggravated. There's a large crash from inside and you cringe, hearing bottles break and wood crunch. You look back, scared at what you might find.

The shop is a disaster, papers strewn, vials broken, and potion pot toppled. Asra is groaning on the floor, obviously doing no better than the rest. You glance at him worriedly, taking quick notice of the potion he had been making spilled everywhere, even on him.

You snap your fingers and the dog's growl, who was cornering Faust by the bookshelf, turns into a whimper as you lift him up with your magic. "I'm sorry pooch," you sigh, "but we can't have you eating our friend." With a wave of your wrist the hound is out the door and down the street in an instant. The hinges creak and bell rings as the door is once again closed to outside.

Thank you!

Faust wriggles happily, red eyes glowing in relief. You guess she got up to some trouble with the local fauna. She slithers up the stairs quickly, leaving you to look around at the ruined shop.

"Ah, fuck," Asra's words cut through your thoughts like a knife. He's laying flat on the floor, chest heaving as though he just ran a marathon. Sweat glistens on his tan skin, covering him from head to toe.

You step over the broken bottles and kneel at his side. "My love?" You ask, unsure of what to do. It was obvious what had happened, it didn't take an expert. The potion that was supposed to be for your customer was now soaked into Asra's glowing skin.

Asra opens his eyes and you swallow hard. You know that look, and it nearly makes you start trembling where you sit. Lust is prevalent, clouding Asra's eyes until they're a dark amethyst color.

"You-" you start to speak but are cut off by Asra sitting up abruptly. His face is close to yours and his breath washes over your lips, hot and wanton. He looks positively desperate, just the sight of you sitting before him doing wonders.

"Please," Asra's voice comes out low and husky, he watches your chest rise and fall quickly as a result. "Can I please have you, right now."

You could almost call him asking like that soft and innocent, if it wasn't for the raw, hungry look he was giving you. His eyes were traveling everywhere across your body, leaving an invisible line that you could almost feel burning into your skin. Your lips parted and you let out a soft gasp, the power that kind of look had over you was astonishing. You shifted your legs under you subtly, feeling the result of the hot atmosphere low in your stomach.

"Tsk, tsk," you had to tease for a moment. "Closing the shop at midday for some fucking?" You reach up and cup Asra's cheek, feigning uncertainty. His skin on your fingertips burns white hot and you have to hide your amazement.

Asra's eyes narrow, he knew you too well. With a quick flick of his wrist you hear the deadbolt on the door slide into place. It's only a second later and both of his hands have found a place on either side of your hips.

"Why do you torment me?" he asks, pulling you close so your legs straddle him. "Can't you see I'm getting enough of that from this damn mistake of a potion?" His words are almost shaky, as though he can barely speak anymore. He presses his hips up to meet yours, and a soft sigh escapes his lips as he finally gets a little friction.

You dig your nails into his shoulders and gasp, the feeling of Asra so obviously in need is enough to make anyone go wild.

You can't resist grinding down lightly and Asra's eyes practically roll back at the sensation. "How can I say no to such a pretty face," you whisper, completely in love with his reaction.

That was enough for Asra and without added words he gathers you up in his strong arms and lifts you both. Your head falls back pleasurably when his lips find your neck. It only takes a few quick steps on his part to bring the two of you into the plush back room.

The purple cushions lining the cozy futon sink in gently as your back hits the mattress. The room has a slight pleasing haze as sandalwood incense burns at the table. The smell washes over your senses and a new wave of sensuality comes over the room.

Asra's hands hold you firmly as his lips continue to press lovingly into your skin. He hovers over you, one leg pressed between your legs, causing your hips to involuntarily move along his thigh.

"I need you out of these clothes," Asra groans, lips being stopped at your chest where your shirt has suddenly become a hindrance. He's already tugging at the hem, untucking the loose fabric from your waistband. You raise yourself to your elbows and help him pull the shirt over your head. At once it is thrown over Asra's shoulder and his eyes are set on your bare skin, drinking in the sight of his lover.

You smile at his admiration and lay back again, stretching your arms above your head and arching your back. You feel his hands on your stomach, traveling up to rest on your breasts. Your skin prickles with desire, flesh lighting on fire from his ministrations.

"How did I get so lucky," he breathes out, looking down at you with a look filled with love and passion. He rests the tips of his fingers on your nipples and swirls them lightly, leaving you to twist in torturous pleasure beneath his touch. "Everything about you is beautiful." Asra continues to flatter, lowering his head so his curls tickle your stomach. He licks a long line from the dip of your hip up to the valley between your breasts.

After a few moments of tasting your supple skin he moves his hands to the top of your skirt and tugs. You lift your hips in compliance and the fabric slides down your legs easily. Asra licks his lips as your body is finally fully presented to him.

"I could feast on you," he announces, voice lowered with need. "And I wouldn't go hungry in a lifetime." These words he whispers into your inner thigh, they tickle your skin softly.

You watch with bated breath as the man before you adores his lover. It's hard to keep your moans controlled as you feel his sinfully good tongue lick you in a way that can only be described as ecstasy.

Asra shifts into a more comfortable position, lying on his stomach and he brings your legs to lay comfortably over his shoulders. You shudder as you feel his hot breath flutter over your dripping slit. He doesn't waste anymore time and lowers his face to enjoy you.

Your thighs squeeze his head lightly as your body arches in response. Asra is devouring you as though you were a feast and it was the only meal he is to have in a lifetime. He grips your legs tightly to keep you from moving and covers your slit with his mouth, sucking for a moment on the tight nub at the top. He groans happily into your skin before moving down to lick your hole.

"Oh please, yes," you run your trembling hand through his hair and raise your hips up to meet his greedy mouth. He laps short, quick strokes first, stimulating you into madness.

After a moment he slows his tongue down to swirl languidly, looking up at you. You make eye contact and groan at the erotic scene of him eating you out. "That mouth of yours is too skilled for its own good," you whisper, fingers digging into his scalp, trying desperately to savor every swipe of his tongue.

Asra smiles against your folds. "I live to make you feel good, my dear." He says, pausing a moment. "You intoxicate me. Your smell, your taste. I couldn't get enough even if I had all the time in the world." He presses his lips on each one of your thighs with hot, open mouth kisses.

You blush at his words, feeling amazing under his praise. "Come here," you command softly, pulling on Asra's hair lightly to guide him back up your body. He kisses every inch of skin he passes before finally reaching your lips.

"Mm," he hums, taking your face in his hands. "But these lips, are like the finest honey in Vesuvia." He lifts your head so your mouths meet. It's a hot and feverish kiss, full of staggering amounts of love.

You press your body into his and relish in the feeling of kissing Asra. Your mouths are opened to one another and your tongues meet in fiery unison. While you enjoy the kiss you allow your hands to roam. Your fingers find his shirt buttons and you start to undo them as best you can, only a little distracted. It takes just a minute and you sigh happily into his mouth when you finally remove the annoying clothing.

You part a moment to admire the divinity of his body; prostrated before you. He was calling himself the lucky one, but you could probably make a pretty good argument for it being the other way around. He looked absolutely glorious in the hazy glow of the room.

As you reach for the waistband of his pants and rest your fingers playfully on the skin above it Asra breaks out in goosebumps at the fluttering feel of your touch.

"Ah," he breaths out, raising himself to his knees and closing his eyes. Clearly, he's enjoying the attention finally being on him.

"You are the one with the potion affecting them." You say, drawing a line from one hip to another. "It'd almost be criminal to ignore you for any longer." Your eyes fall to the bulge straining under Asra's pants, just begging to be free. A smile plays across your lips as his breaths quickens significantly.

"I.. wouldn't complain." He finally manages to say in a strained tone.

You smile, maybe a little too satisfied, and hook your fingers under the band. "I know." You chuckle, pulling. The trousers catch a moment on Asra's hardened length before slipping down to his knees. You take time to admire the sight before you, licking your lips. Asra is panting slightly, looking down at you lustfully as your eyes graze over him.

He grabs your head on either side and looks into your eyes. "Please," is all he can croak out.

You swallow thickly and you feel yourself dampen even more at his begging words. “I’d like nothing more" you say; need dripping heavily from your words. You lean forward and kiss the tip of his leaking slit lightly. Asra's body shivers with pleasure when your soft lips meet his aching shaft.

You take a breath before closing your mouth around his tip. Your cheeks hollow and you suck in deeply, enjoying the small sounds of pleasure emitting from Asra's lips. He groans even deeper as you finally swallow down his whole length, tip sliding down the back of your throat.

"Ah fuck, baby," he stutters through gritted teeth, fingers threading through your hair. He thrusts into your mouth without hesitation, reveling in the way you feel around him. The pace is fast and vicious, leaving no time for extra room for breathing.

You choke back your gasps and feel the involuntary tears prick at the corners or your eyes. Your hands fall to your sides as you let Asra use your mouth how he pleased. Licentious noises ring around the room as he sinks his member into your mouth relentlessly, moaning at each stroke and the salacious feelings that come over him.

His grip tightens in your hair as he pounds into your face. You open your mouth as widely as you can and take him in, ignoring the slight pain of labored breathing. The feeling of being used so mercilessly is intoxicating, and you close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure that overtakes you.

With a loud pop he pulls out of your drooling mouth, leaving you to be the one groaning in disappointment.

"I'm sorry love," he huffs dazedly, need heavy on his features. "But if I don't stop this now I'm cumming in your mouth."

"That doesn't sound so bad," you complain, sticking your tongue out so Asra can view how much you want it. His eyes darken considerably and he looks ready to break.

He takes a breath in sharply, steadying himself before holding your face gently in his hand. "As much as I want you fuck your face, that pussy of yours I know is dripping for me and I have to comply." He chuckles, running his thumb along your lip.

You whimper at his words, practically climaxing at the suggestion. You meet his eyes in a needy manner and nod. "Oh, Asra," you start, already seeing excitement flit across his face at the mention of his name. "I want you more than I can even describe to you."

To this Asra inhales sharply, thumb still hooked in your mouth. "Tell me how you want me," he says, barely able to contain his own desire.

"I want you to fuck me from behind," you begin, knowing exactly how to please his ears. "I'm going to cry and moan, and beg you for relief but you will know better." His eyes widen in ecstasy but you continue anyway. "I want you to give everything you can to me, without holding back."

Asra seems to snap right in front of you. His features immediately seem to plead for consolation. "You'll get what you ask for." He growls, fingers tightening in your mouth. You lick his thumb seductively and the action throws him over the edge.

Asra's hands fly to your waist and hold you firmly, you're flipped over; ass to the heavens greeting him. He swallows at the sight and digs both palms into the flesh, enjoying the feeling immensely. "So needy and ready for me," he groans, finger finding your entrance and slipping in easily. You gulp at the warmth of having fingers enter you. Asra is unrelenting and curls them cruelly against your walls.

"Just fuck me already!" You cry, unable to hide your desires anymore. You hear Asra laugh behind you, yet despite this you know he is dying to sink himself into you.

"Alright, alright." He concedes, taking your hips in his hands. "If you insist."

You feel his tip slide against your slit and shudder, craving the feeling of him inside you. It doesn't take more than a moment before you feel him start to enter you. You lay your head down, turning your face so you can watch Asra take you from behind.

His lips are parted in a silent moan as he relishes in the feeling of your walls around him. You sigh softly as he fully sheaths himself in you, a small tremor passing over your body from the pleasure. One moment, two moments pass as you both bask in the feeling of being connected.

"Give me your hands," he commands, slowly sliding in and out of you, giving no care to his agonizingly slow pace. Soft gasps are falling from your lips as you try to register his request.

Carefully, you cross your arms behind your back. It's no use to keep the blush at bay as you take in the dirty scene. Your face is pressed to the pillows, unable to move much as Asra takes your wrists and pins them to your back. Your ass is raised in the air to meet his rhythmic thrusting.

Asra grips one of your thighs with a free hand and quickens the pace a little. Your eyes shut tightly as your body responds. You can feel his tip hit deep inside of you with each snap of his hips. It's unrelenting and you have to catch yourself from begging for more.

You feel the fingers around your wrist tighten a bit as Asra's breathing speeds up behind you. You know that he's set on giving you as much painfully slow torture as he can manage himself, but you also know that potion is working against him. There's nothing he wants more than to let go and pound you into the mattress.

"Baby," you choke out, words bouncing along with your bodies. "I know you want to fuck me so good right now." Your voice is deep with seduction. "Please just fill me up like I know you want to." You finish your plea, watching his face with satisfaction. His eyes are darkened with desire. He takes just a few more strokes before slowly to a stop inside you.

"You asked for it," he warns. He only takes a moment to let go of your wrists and flips your body so you're facing him. He cages you in on either side and licks his lips as he stares into your eyes. His hungry mouth meets yours in a kiss full of fire. You can melt into it for only a second before you feel him grab your hips and pull you flush against him; Your cries drowned by his lips as he sets an erratic pace, skin meeting with loud slaps.

"Fucking hell," he groans, still kissing you between words. "You feel like heaven on earth. You're so hot, and I can feel your insides squeezing me." He explains, hot breath falling over your face. Your cheeks burn at his descriptions.

You loop your arms around his neck and press your chest into his. Your skin meets, shining with sweat and burning from love. Asra presses back, savoring the feeling of your nipples brushing against his.

You start to feel that familiar blossom of unreleased pleasure pool in your lower stomach. Asra's shaft is hitting you just right, sending jolts of satisfaction right to your core.

"Oh-" you stop and whine pleasantly when he shifts angles. "Fuck. Please yes, don't stop!" Your arms drop and nails dip into his biceps and you grit your teeth from the hot delight searing through your body.

"I couldn't even If i wanted to," Asra answers, words strained as his grasp on himself starts to crumble. His breath is leaving his lips in short pants now and you can almost see the resolve to hold on slip away before your eyes.

He falls into you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and thrusts into you with all of the strength he can muster. You bury your face in his neck and take hold of his hair. You can feel Asra's body shuddering to not let go.

You bring your lips to his ear and bite his lobe. "Won't you come for me sweetheart? Please empty yourself in me." You whisper.

Asra takes in a sharp breath and you hear him choke at your words. They were enough to push him over the edge and he rams into you with a low, strangled cry.

Your head falls back and your mouth opens in a silent scream as Asra lets himself go in you. Your legs shake violently of their own accord as you feel your orgasm wash over you, leaving your body in euphoric fire.

Asra's lips immediately find yours as you ride out your orgasms together. You kiss him passionately, all of your senses in overdrive. His kisses are soft, and sweet, a clear declaration of his love. Happiness rushes in like a flood as you enjoy the afterglow. After a minute Asra removes himself from you and joins you in laying down, sides still heaving from the activities.

"My dear, how I love you." He says with a smile, running his fingers in slow, soft circles on your stomach.

You turn on your side and look into his eyes. He looked content, and his cheeks were dimpled from his growing grin.

"I love you too," you return, hand falling into his. His skin was still warm. The two of you lay there for a while, out of breath and simply enjoying the presence of one another.

Eventually, Asra sits up and looks down at you with humor in his eyes. "Well, I think I can tell our buyer that we did an extensive review of his product and it does, in fact, work."

Your face breaks into a smile and you laugh at Asra's words. "Oh goodie, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear all about it."

#the arcana game #asra alnazar #the arcana #asra lemon #asra smut #asra x reader #asra x female reader #writing #fanfic #arcana smut #arcana #arcana fanfic #asra fanfic

[all-about-seggs]

Sultry Blues-

Rating: ❌18+, Explicit❌

Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Insecure! Fem Reader

Word count: 2.5 k

Warnings: Trigger warning for insecurities (not specified), Body Worshipping, a bit of food play, cunnilingus, Semi-public sex.

The faint sounds of ringing bells from the shrine was still in the air as you made your way to the inner structure of the prestigious Jujutsu academy. The path to the meeting room was straight and lined with stone carvings which gave the entire place an ancient look. You had a lunchtime date with your boyfriend, who would, hopefully be on time so you could be on your way.

This place always made you uneasy, not because of the dangerous connotations it brought in everyone’s lives but it was the people who freaked you out the most. To you, each one of the teachers as well as the students looked like some characters straight from a book, elegant, strong and perfectly capable of doing things normal people like you could only read about. Not having enough confidence on yourself physically or mentally worsened every time it dawned on you that you were dating the most perfect being of them all.

Perplexing wouldn’t even began to describe your state of mind when Satoru first took interest in you, sure looks or status didn’t meant anything to him but even in terms of personality you never thought the two of you would get along, so much so that you would become such an irreplaceable part of each other. But you knew his feelings for you did nothing to stop the ache in your heart when you saw him getting ganged up on by a bunch of women. Women attractive than you, smarter than you and definitely stronger than you.

This was exactly the place where all those kind of women lived making you feel even more of an outsider in his world. Not wanting to cause Satoru any worries you tried to psyche yourself up by picking up your pace only to be met with a hard shoulder to your cheek.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t looking”, you looked up at the stranger, she was tall, her sturdy figure seemed like she was also a sorcerer but her ID pass was tucked on the breast pocket of her coat along with her youthful face indicated she was a student, you squinted to see that her name was Lisa and as you were about to apologise when you saw her sneer at you.

“ Ugh… outsiders. Don’t you know how to walk properly? Or did you not learn that in your no name school?”, her condescending tone took you aback.

You knew you didn’t exactly belong here but she wasn’t cutting you any slack for being a civilian either. You wanted to ask her why was she being so rude but your queries were cut off as by the girl.

“ No need to explain yourself I already know who you are, I’ve seen you following Gojo- San like a lost puppy a lot of times, seriously it’s like you don’t even have a presence without him.”, with a pause you finally thought her pointless berating would come to a stop but she went on.

“ He has a reputation to uphold here so don’t go around embarrassing him with your airheaded and average looking face”, now with THAT she crossed the line but as much as you wanted to give her a comeback all you anger turned into self loathing in a matter of seconds and you stood there dumbly not being able to defend yourself from the onslaught of verbal attacks that even you partially agreed with.

Not even bothering to look at her when she passed you thought about her mean words that were half untrue. You knew dating a popular guy would include more that just a little bit harmless envy of girls. At this point you’d be lucky if you didn’t get attacked by one of your boyfriend’s fangirl. But, It wasn’t about Satoru anymore, you thought. It was about how you were letting the jealousy of his superficial admirers who didn’t even knew only knew his name and face. Before you could delve more into your darkening thoughts you heard a cheery voice call out to you.

Bag at hand, which probably contained some sort of dessert you saw Satoru gleefully making his way towards you. It took you a few seconds to plaster a believable smile to your face so you could greet him normally.

“ Wow I can’t believe IM the one who had to wait around this time”, placing a tiny kiss on your nose he pulled you in for a hug, his warmth seeping into you put your mind at ease and help you distract yourself from the horrible encounter before.

“ The meeting was pointless and even the snacks turned out to be lame”, whining a little he waved the bag in front of you. A convenient store vanilla sponge cake with a packet of strawberry sauce was right in front of you and honestly if it were you, you’d probably eat it without question but knowing his love for quality sweets it was understandable why he’d complain.

“ Well actually, with the right toppings and modifications even convenient store packed cakes can taste top class!”, thinking about all the ways you’ve experimented watching diy food videos you started thinking up of ways to serve it to him.

“I see, that’s a good idea and I think it’ll give us some headstart for our date wouldn’t it?”, saying that he gestured you towards one of the buildings that lead to the back exit.

Walking hand in hand Satoru came to a stop which seemed like a closed off gate that was not in use anymore.

“ Why are we here? I thought the back exit was the other way around?”, confusion painted over you face you turned to face your mischievous partner.

“ you said you’d help me eat them, and I think it’s a pretty good place, don’t you?”, stepping closer he urged you to take a look around. The area didn’t have any benches, buildings or even people around and the only sound you could hear was the birds and the small artificial streams of river that flowed a few steps away from the closed off exit.

If Satoru was insinuating something you started to get the hang of it and you soon felt you face get hotter. The afternoon sun did nothing to help you cool down as you struggled to make sense of the situation. His hands were all over your body, caressing, pinching and feeling you up.

“ What’s wrong? Not up for it in semi public style?”, his breathy voice got lost in the crook of you neck where he inhaled your scent, “ you know nobody’s gonna come” with a slight push, he pinned you againt the vine-covered gate, “Except for you”.

“what the- WAIT! It’s still so bright out here not to mention we’re in PUBLIC Satoru!”, wide eyed you try to grab at his hand that was halfway done unbuttoning the top of your blouse.

“Do you want me to blindfold you?”, throwing these words nonchalantly he started licking every bit of exposed skin he could find from your ears to chest.

His mouth made contact with your covered breasts and without bothering to remove the piece of clothing he latched his mouth onto your hardened nipple to give it a gentle bite. Holding back your own moans you placed you hands on his broad shoulders, a feeble attempt at stopping him.

“How would THAT resolve anything?!” already half naked, your retorts seemed like pathetic excuses even to your own ears. It wasn’t until you heard a sharp rip that you realised your underwear was no longer on your body anymore. With a horrified look you saw your unusable underwear in Satoru’s hand.

“ I don’t think you’ll be needing these anymore my sweetness because I want to see ALL of you”, dangling the fabric from his long fingers he made a show of tucking it in his pocket. Hiking your skirt up with one hand he caressed the soft flesh with his thumbs.

“I knew you had no sense of danger but this could even get us arrested”, your reasoning seemed to fell on deaf ears as your boyfriend, already half way down on the ground, pulled his blindfold down with ease. Looking at up at you with his ethereal turquoise eyes that lied beneath strips of heavy white eyelashes, this part of his face was something you couldn’t see all the time.

“You’re beautiful……”, the genuine nature of his words felt unreal when compared to his everyday frivolous self, “at least I’ve always thought so”.

All the voices in the place except for his, got drowned out by the throbbing of your heart in your chest when he kneeled right in front of your crotch. The warm smile on his lips contradicted with his tantalizing actions but he enjoyed it precisely because of that.

“Open your legs a bit more y/n, I need more space to eat”, with his haughty smirk back he exposed more of your pussy with his fingers and dribbled the strawberry sauce over it until it started trickling down to the ground underneath it.

“This looks like a good dessert, waaay better than the one I was offered before”, making one last smartass comment he threw the now empty packet away and your sugar coated pussy was soon met with Satoru’s soft, warm tongue as he buries his face in it. His tongue worked it’s way beneath the layer of your pussy hair and down to the soft flabby skin underneath. Your natural slick combined with the dressing sauce tasted even sweeter in his mouth, the pleasant hums falling uncontrollably from his mouth made you wetter.

All the blemishes, scars and your self imposed flaws started melting into something more complete and unbreakable in its nature when you felt Satoru touching you, feeling you and tasting you from the inside and out.

His warm hands firmly gripped your thighs to lap at the soft peak in between. All the sensations his tongue was providing you made your vision turn black and your body heated up to the point of burning. The broad daylight and your exposed form added to the fear of being found out but your trust in your boyfriend outweighed everything so you let him have his way.

“ Hmmm, yeah y/n…”, the exaggeratingly loud slurping of his mouth came to a stop as he looked up at you, his pink lips glistening even more when he spoke, “Even this cheap stuff tastes better when I eat it directly from you”.

You were a panting mess, already having lost the ability to make coherent words you kept you eyes on Satoru as rose to his feet.

“ Let’s move on to the next part shall we?”, after smoothening out your skirt of you he held out his hand and your need for release took over all rhyme and reason so you put one of your shaking hand in his. The next few moments were confusing as a white light enveloped both of your forms and by the time your vision returned you found yourself in an unknown room.

The place itself was nothing out of the ordinary, some books, a cupboard and a vanity. The single bed near the curtained window was properly made. It was clearly not Satoru’s room but the neatness of the place also suggested that it wasn’t an unused room either.

“ Hey we’re are we?”, you question the white haired male when he casually made his way to switch on the lights.

“Don’t worry we’re still in the academy premises, you wanted to finish this right? And I didn’t wanted to go another second with hearing your pretty voice, so you can scream now,” his voice dangerously low, he held your arms in both of his hands and guided you to the single bed in the corner.

“ and I didn’t meant that as a request”, flat on your back you had no time for further questioning as your exposed cunt got filled to the brim in a single thrust. The stretch made you cry out and remembering Satoru’s previous warning you didn’t bother covering your mouth. The light in the room was enough for him to see all of you, even if he had all of you memorized at the back of since the first time.

Your twisted face that you’d consider ugly was nothing if not arousing to him from the kneeling position of his at the edge of the bed, endearing even at how the side of your eyes well up everytime he fucked you so hard, the creaking of the bed acted as a proof of his brutal pace that threatened to break the furniture.

Each powerful thrust of his made your entire body lurch from its position, your juices flowed endlessly down your thighs, on Satoru’s cock and down to the sheets. Your voice ricocheted off the walls and gave life to the entire building.

Having your orgasm cut off before, the anticipation that had build up made your upcoming release feel even ore intense. Your walls started clenching around his shaft, already feeling waves of ecstasy you waited for it to reach its peak.

“ Y/n...Come for me”, in between his grunts he placed on of his hand on the side of your head, lowering himself till your noses touched. Breaths intermingling, you came with a loud cry of his name. Euphoria spreaded through both of your bodies making a gush of liquid come out of your pussy when Satoru pulled out, both of your mess soiled the sheet.

Few minutes of silence passed by as a fully clothed Satoru sat beside you, stroking your head until you calmed down.

“ Hey y/n?”, abruptly his cheeky tone filled the room and you looked up at him questioningly,

“ Wanna take a pic? ya'know, as a momento”, the odd question made you come to an obvious conclusion, which now seemed obvious considering your boyfriend’s not so secret rebellious nature and with how much of a brat he can be it was nothing short of hilarious.

“ It’s Lisa’s room isn’t it?”, barely controlling your laughter you tried to pry an answer out of him, the soothing motion of his hands never coming to a stop he took out his phone with another.

“ Yeah, it is, I’d say it’s an excellent way of showing her our ‘bond’ dontcha think?”, his cringey answer made you burst into laughter. The first real smile he’d seen on your face since you got here was something Satoru wanted to be a constant thing, always there when he wanted to see it just like a still photograph.

Bending his face down his lips softly met your forehead and before you could open your eyes back up you heard the click of the camera go off.

“ Heh, so how is it?”, propping yourself up on your elbows you tried to peak at the screen but it was pulled out of sight just as quickly.

“ It’s perfect”, with a warm smile that reached all the way to his eyes Satoru put his phone down before peering into your eyes, “and it’s mine”.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru #jjk oneshot #jujutsu kaisen scenario #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #my writing

[jeynearrynofthevale]

Sansa Stark is a lesbian and here’s why:

So, in honor of sapphicsansafest, I’m making a meta master post about why I believe Sansa is a lesbian. This will include a few quotes and I’m going to separate it into a few sections.

Sansa’s descriptions of other women:

“The queen was drinking heavily, but the wine only seemed to make her more beautiful; her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes had a bright, feverish heat to them as she looked down over the hall. Eyes of wildfire, Sansa thought.”

Even when Sansa hates Cersei, her descriptions of her are always focused around her beauty. The way she describes her eyes and cheeks is also similar to the way the men that are attracted to Cersei describe her.

“Twenty mules awaited them within the waycastle, along with two mule-walkers and the Lady Myranda Royce. Lord Nestor’s daughter proved to be a short, fleshy woman, of an age with Mya Stone, but where Mya was slim and sinewy, Myranda was soft-bodied and sweet-smelling, broad of hip, thick of waist, and extremely buxom. Her thick chestnut curls framed round red cheeks, a small mouth, and a pair of lively brown eyes.”

Similarly, her description of Myranda is very focused around her looks and specific details like her being “sweet smelling” and “extremely buxom” seem to point towards Sansa being attracted to Margaery. Once again Sansa’s descriptions of women mimic the way straight men describe them. Sansa’s interactions with Myranda are something I'll comment on later.

“Sansa had never been this close to the Dornishwoman before. She is not truly beautiful, she thought, but something about her draws the eye.”

Her description of Ellaria is also interesting as it helps show that the way Sansa thinks about women isn’t solely an aesthetic appreciation. She also enjoys the way unconventionally attractive women look.

“Slim and sinewy, Mya looked as tough as the old riding leathers she wore beneath her silvery ringmail shirt. Her hair was black as a raven's wing, so short and shaggy that Alayne suspected that she cut it with a dagger. Mya's eyes were her best feature, big and blue. She could be pretty, if she would dress up like a girl. Alayne found herself wondering whether Ser Lothor liked her best in her iron and leather, or dreamed of her gowned in lace and silk.”

This might be the best example of Sansa’s attraction to women. She once again thinks about the beauty of a woman who isn’t conventionally attractive and she even comments on her eyes. She then contextualizes her attraction by convincing herself that she’s thinking from a man’s perspective. In reality though she’s thinking about how Mya looks her best to her and is unable to really think of that because it's not considered proper.

“When Margaery Tyrell smiled, she looked very like her brother Loras.”

This one is pretty self explanatory. She thinks of how lovely Margaery looks repeatedly and when Margaery is admirable and happy, she once again contextualizes her attraction by bringing a man into the picture.

My thoughts on her “crushes” on men:

Now, her 3 real crushes in the books are Joffrey Baratheon, Loras Tyrell, and Waymar Royce. They all follow a very similar template. Men straight out of the songs and stories that Sansa loves.

“Sansa did not really know Joffrey yet, but she was already in love with him. He was all she ever dreamt her prince should be, tall and handsome and strong, with hair like gold.”

And

“Joffrey smiled and kissed her hand, handsome and gallant as any prince in the songs.”

Joffrey is someone Sansa likes because he’s the prince out of songs, the idealized prince in the stories. And Sansa loves songs and stories so she thinks she loves Joffrey. When she comments on Joffrey’s beauty, it’s almost always in the context of songs or stories. He’s also the easiest crush, her betrothed who she has to learn to love.

“Ser Gregor was the monster and Ser Loras the true hero who would slay him. He even looked a true hero, so slim and beautiful, with golden roses around his slender waist and his rich brown hair tumbling down into his eyes.”

And

“Wed to Ser Loras, oh . . . Sansa's breath caught in her throat. She remembered Ser Loras in his sparkling sapphire armor, tossing her a rose. Ser Loras in white silk, so pure, innocent, beautiful.”

Loras is also an ideal out of the songs. Sansa says it herself. He’s the hero she wants. She always thinks of him in that context. It makes sense that she crushes on him. He’s a safe easy crush. It’s like the asoiaf equivalent of crushing on some guy in a boyband.

Sansa’s interactions with Margaery

“You will love Highgarden as I do, I know it.” Margaery brushed back a loose strand of Sansa’s hair. “Once you see it, you’ll never want to leave. And perhaps you won’t have to.”

The way Margaery tries to appeal to Sansa and talk to her almost echoes a flirtation. Pushing a strand of hair behind someone’s ear is a textbook romantic move. And the persuasion relies on Sansa liking Margaery and is all about finding love.

“”Margaery’s kindness had been unfailing, and her presence changed everything.”

The way Sansa thinks of Margaery is quite striking and loving. It is as though Margaery was this big important force in Sansa’s life.

“Margaery was different, though. Sweet and gentle, yet there was a little of her grandmother in her, too. The day before last she’d taken Sansa hawking.”

Sansa also goes on what pretty much amounts to dates with Margaery. And the sentiment of Margaery being different is very similar to Arya’s thoughts on Gendry: “Only Gendry was different” and their relationship is often considered to have romantic undertones. It’s also interesting that gentle is used to describe Margaery when that is one of the words Ned used to describe Sansa’s future romance.

“She is so brave, Sansa thought, galloping after her.”

Sansa clearly admires Margaery immensely and her thoughts are always complimentary. She clearly crushes on her.

Sansa’s interactions with Myranda:

And you must be the Lord Protector’s daughter,” she added, as the bucket went rattling back up to the Eyrie. “I had heard that you were beautiful. I see that it is true.”

Alayne curtsied. “My lady is kind to say so.”

“Kind?” The older girl gave a laugh. “How boring that would be. I aspire to be wicked. You must tell me all your secrets on the ride down. May I call you Alayne?”

The complimenting of Sansa’s beauty is another common trope in flirtation. And the way she interacts is very sexual and ostentatious. It’s flirty. And asking to call someone by their first name is also a romantic trope.

“Randa. It seems a hundred years since I was four-and-ten. How innocent I was. Are you still innocent, Alayne?”

She blushed. “You should not ... yes, of course.”

Sansa is nervous around Myranda in a way she’s not around men. She even blushes. Myranda is also directly questioning Sansa about her sexual experience.

“Despite herself, Alayne found herself warming to the older girl.”

She starts developing a crush.

“She is trying to make me blush again.

Lady Myranda must have heard her thoughts. “You do turn such a pretty shade of pink. When I blush I look quite like an apple. I have not blushed for years, though.” She leaned closer.”

Once again, this is super flirty and seductive. She’s complimenting Sansa on her blush and implying her own experience. This whole conversation is ripe with that stuff.

“She ate with Mya and Myranda. “So you’re brave as well as beautiful,” Myranda said to her.

“No.” The compliment made her blush. “I’m not. I was so scared. I don’t think I could have crossed without Lord Robert.”

Once again Sansa blushes at Myranda’s comments.

“By the time they finally reached her father’s castle, Lady Myranda was drowsing too, and Alayne was dreaming of her bed.”

This is some interesting word play. It might not be intentional but ships like Braime have similar lines.

And a few miscellaneous/bonus things:

“Septa Mordane said all men are beautiful, find his beauty, try.”

This is how Sansa thinks about Tyrion. She’s a child forcibly married to him so she’d probably judge him harshly regardless but this phrasing struck me. It’s very similar to the way lgbtq people are often told to try to love another gender even if they cannot. And the way Septa Mordane taught Sansa about attraction and gender obviously has a huge influence on her perception of her own sexuality.

“When a serving girl brought her supper, she almost kissed her.”

And this is Sansa thinking about kissing a girl.

“I am coming for you, Lady Sansa, she thought as she rode into the darkness. Be not afraid. I shall not rest until I've found you.”

The fact that the true knight Sansa wishes for, the hero out of the stories, the romantic trope is Brienne, a woman, has some awesome queer implications. Even if her relationship with Brienne isn’t really a romantic one, it certainly fits the idea of courtly love.

#asoiaf #sansa stark #lesbian Sansa Stark #sapphicsansafest #sansasource #sansaery #Sansa x Myranda #Sansa x Mya #asoiaf meta #my meta

[wisteria-lodge]

snake primary (lion model?) + snake secondary (rapid fire bird model)

I am pretty sure I am a snake/snake sorting, with my primary (burned snake) as a rock solid certainty. I am not doing so well on figuring out how models work, and if I have them. It makes me doubt my secondary sometimes. Let me give you a few examples:

Last autumn, I was making a lot of soup from scratch. I started with recipes, but pretty soon I was just throwing things together.

Definitely sounds like an improvisational secondary.

(I'm a Badger secondary, and my baker friends make fun of me, because I treat recipes like spells I follow them so exactly. I only recently learned that the reason you put put in salt in water is to make it boil faster. I'd been doing it, but I might as well have been putting it in there to banish the bad spirits.)

But I always made sure I had some kind of home-made broth to hand, and some kind of soup magic stuff (heavy cream, milk, cream cheese, etc.)

This could be rapid-fire bird (or a rapid-fire bird model.) You feel comfortable improvising, but only because you already know a lot about soup.

I only went back to recipes when I wanted something new or specific. Then I went and posted a kind of improv instruction for soup making (take some meat, any meat, sear it and and pair with some veggies, any veggies, etc.).

So far, I'm agreeing with you. Improvisational secondary, maybe some kind of bird model to give extra structure and support.

I train new colleagues. When I start with a new group, I like to have all the prep-work done so I can concentrate on the social aspects and not get bogged down finding the right worksheets, or shit like that. I plan my first few words, and if there is no better opening, I use them and go from there. I have a general structure of what I want to teach them, what methods to use and in what order. It is adapted from experience, and the more rigid guidelines we are given by our client. I am constantly tweaking it when I'm not training. If I feel my group needs something different, I will abandon the plan, let them guide me on a detour, and bring them back when it feels right. Somehow, it still works out 95% of the time, especially now that I have found my confidence and know it works^^

This sounds exactly like how I teach. And for me, what is going on is the bird model prepwork making me comfortable enough to just vanish into my Courtier Badger. I've only recently been learning that I can... relax on the prep, a little. That sometimes too much prep gets me in my head, and sabotages me a little. Like I can just trust myself in the moment, and things work out just fine.

I have found the shc system a week ago, and I have been obsessed ever since. I got curious because a friend mentioned it. They were really into it, and I like sorting people if the system makes sense. I dug in, got hooked, and finally found words to describe everything I had figured out so painfully about myself in the last few years. Especially my snake primary was such a surprise and relief, let me tell you.

It's a good system. And it's... uniquely able to talk about certain kinds of things.

I am thinking there is at least some sort of bird model here, giving my improv some structure?

Took the words out of my mouth.

I was flirting with rapid fire bird as a secondary, but now I have put it into words, not a chance. I like my (contained) chaos too much^^

So far, I don't have too much to add. It's all very well laid out, and well understood. I do like the dramatic structure that happens when someone writes in convinced their a Lion and I start going into why they're actually a Snake but hey. This is nice. This is mellow.

Let's talk about badger secondary model instead. Just to get the elephant out of the room: I hate hard work, it feels slow, dull, and like there should be a better method somewhere. But I know that sometimes, you just have to do it if you want to build a reputation, or you know you need to rely on the goodwill of your community in the future.

This is so like... Rapid-fire bird processing Badger. Just the grudging respect of SURE badger secondary can be a useful tool I GUESS.

I feel awkward keeping shallow contact with my colleagues, I forget if they have kids, and I have been experimenting with discreetly taking notes on what they value.

This is so Bird.

It's not very successful because I can never remember them when it's necessary, so I nod and figure it out by asking "knowing seeming" questions, anyway.

This is so Snake.

What does resonate with me is the part of "becoming what they need" making myself into the tool I need, making myself seem reliable by being relatable. I mostly start a one-on-one conversation by mirroring the other person's mood.

Courtier Badger and Snake secondary can look very, very similar - especially from the outside. This right here could be a description of either.

It is only recently, and only with people I know well, that I have found the seductive power of railroading them instead. I can now cut short a friends whining by summarising what they're saying in a blunt and charming manner, and make them smile instead. Not always, but now I know it works, I use it more and more often.

... but this could only be Snake. Doing this sort of thing consciously and on purpose is so huge and so key. Courtier Badgers do have to believe it, and so they have a way of vanishing that Snake secondaries don't.

And I think I am exaggerating my "go and figure shc out, and be loud and open about it on tumblr" part, because it's what feels right at the moment, but also because the friend who got me into it is a burned lion secondary. They like me charging in, taking it for myself, and they admire anyone who can be honest and vulnerable in public.

Very Double Snake. Using a specific approach, specifically for your friend. Also you say your primary is burned... but I'm not getting burned primary from you. But you're also not really writing about your primary, so.

I guess I am making myself appealing, not just relatable like before.

What a perfect way of describing the difference between Snake and Badger secondaries.

Huh. Fading badger performance as snake gets confident? With another badger performance for work that I do grudgingly.

Performance is right. Just a shallow thing you wear over the top, that barely seems there anymore. You work like Bird, not a Badger.

Now lion. Well, lion is... difficult and easy at the same time? I have to take charge, be the boss, and make split-second, straightforward right-and-wrong decisions when I am leading my group: Call out anyone who doesn't play by the rules (though I usually don't care much if it is not annoying). Decide on, and hand out, the appropriate punishment for someone being late, again. Deal with brewing conflict in a head-on manner. But that is something I am still learning, and I am not very good at it.

Some of this is primary stuff - WHAT you do "be the boss, hand out punishments" versus HOW you do it. It's sounds to me like you're building a Lion primary model over your Snake primary, which is normal. Snakes with safe people almost always model something else. (And I already know you've got a friend that's a Lion primary... Snakes do like to match their People.)

It's possible that you're also building a Lion secondary model, or that one of your Snake secondary masks looks a little like a typical lion secondary, but my take is that most of this is coming from a primary model.

I tend to let conflicts slide, trusting they will work it out among themselves.

I feel that this speaks to the water-like nature of the Snake secondary, and a desire to always go around the problem.

or at least be professional about it and not bring it into the training. Definitely a lion performance here, and one I get frustrated with fast because I am not very good at it.

I have my lion moments, like I described with my way of being open and vulnerable about shc here on tumblr. But I wouldn't do it if it didn't feel right, or more specifically like something I need to heal and get better. I know I need to be vulnerable to heal, and it's relatively safe here, in the anonymity of my internet persona.

Hmm. Interesting. I'm not getting Lion from you... if this is a healing exercise, maybe you're practicing existing in your Neutral state?

I have to write it all out, and some of it just happen to come out as advice for other people's asks. It would be nice if I get some recognition for it in the community, and I love the fact that my friends reads it and tells me they like it.

My take on that sort of thing is going to be annoyingly Badger, so I apologize in advance. For me it's all about consistency. Lay a foundation and then build, one brick at a time.

Now that I have written it all out, I think it's probably the most snake way of arguing myself out of any secondary model I could come up with^^ I guess I don't have one, or if I do, I am dismantling it because I need things to be simple for a while. I am tempted to post this on my own blog, but I know it will get a bigger audience with you.

Yeah, no Lion secondary here.

and maybe help someone in a similar situation. So I will be patient, and I thank you for inviting us all to use you as a sounding board for our own shc issues. I have to stop going through your likes, I'm ruining my obsessive fangirl/shc vibes tumblr with beautiful rl-things and creative human interactions^^

I do what I can. I hope I help. :)

Thankyou, @sevilemar for the submission.

#sortinghatchats #sortme #double snake #snakepri #snakesec #rapid fire bird #lion primary model

[dana-chan-the-control-brain]

Top five fanfics?

Oh fuck (gets shot)

Well, I shot myself in the foot with that one.

Keep in mind, these are in no particular order, and I'm a bit of a pleb when it comes to reading fanfic. I just tend to like what's popular or stuff written by my friends.

I need to give Height Treason by @wholesomeklei a huge shout-out.

I'm not sure if this fic will ever be continued or not. Last I heard of Klei, they had a cancer scare (it wasn't) updated a chapter about Sizz-lorr and then vanished from the internet entirely. I hope they're taking a much needed break from online stuff and nothing bad happened to them.

But anyways, I can not thank Height Treason enough for existing. It gells with the humor of canon so seemlessly it feels like I'm watching an "Invader Zim after dark" show. Yes, even despite the not safe for work canon.

I love the lore they weave and I'm always a fan of "zim finds out the truth of his mission and schmoops and gets revenge on the Irken empire" stories. Also Pining Zim has my whole heart.

And it even paints side characters with much love.

Membrane tries his best and sucks at parenting and it inspired me greatly for how I write and came to understand Membrane as a character.

Miss Bitters is a delight. Sargent Slabrankle gets a cameo. Tak's ship has an existential crisis. Gosshloog gets an entire chapter about a spicy love afair with his boss. Zim's Computer is his usual sassy self and has ackward conversations with a frustrated teenage Dib.

Like the love for the side characters is amazing.

Height Treason was the fanfic that inspired me to write an entire fanfiction based on Computer Brain lore.

The lore is amazing, it's in character and this fic inspired me SO MUCH and is the reason that Tech Support (and the Brainbrane fic by extension) even exists.

I've probably reread this fic over twenty times.

However, I can't link the fic here, since it's VERY nsfw. As in, explicit sex scenes later. (The chapter where zim learns sex education is great)

So I can't link it, but it's easily searchable on A03.

If you're of age, and don't mind nsfw I highly recommend it.

Honesty Hour by @patchworkpoltergeist is one of those new fandom classics.

Like I don't even know how describe this fic.

Honesty Hour chills me to the core and has me looking at my ceiling for hours on end questioning my own existence.

Like it's Zim gets therapy, but in a psychological horror way.

Patch is a master wordsmith and just has a way of describing things. Everything is in the details.

I just love how Zim thinks and that half the time I don't know what's going on as much as Zim does. Which is honestly more scary then I think.

There's lots of details that I miss and usually after talking about the chapter with Patch or the Moo-ping10 gang, I realize "oh fuck that's what happened?! The hell"

Anyways. I fear and look forward to every update.

But I honestly have to run a mental health check before I even attempt to read the chapters.

Emotions, Cryptids and the possible end of the world series by @bamsara

I feel Bamsara does onto theirself and I don't need to sing her fics praises but I will.

I am a bit behind on my reading, cause I haven't read the latest chapter of Galaxy Days yet.

But I love the casual yet feral friendship Dib and Zim have built throughout this series.

There's just a constant yearning throughout the whole thing, and the two boys are at the center of it all. Like the feeling of a real long road trip with no destination in mind. That's often what these series of fics feel like. There's an underlying tenderness and longing but also something dark and sinister. A lot of moments stay in my head for days after the fact. Not just the cryptids of the fic, but the smaller moments. Zim and Dib having breakfast in France as the sun rises, Dib crying his eyes out in a dingy motel room near the beach, Zim breaking into Dib's hospital room in the dark, Dib attacking Zim in a fit of insomnia hallucinations....

The list goes on.

There's plenty of good moments, and I've even drawn Zim giving Dib space (cause that's the fucking gayest romantic thing and I still lie in bed thinking about it)

Also Dib constantly running into Death's arms and Zim often doing fisticuffs with her and both getting stupid trauma over stupid decisions is very good.

I feel a lot of Sara's soul in these fics and it shows. Especially with how Dib is written and I can tell this is an extremely personal project with passion behind it and I can't help but admire that.

Every star another sun series by @dionysuscrysis

I really love this series. The end.

Okay, unfair.

But Dion's series really needs more views and appreciation.

I like how it just skips over the "zim and dib become friends somehow....realizes mission is fake..yadda yadda" part of the story and just jumps right into the thick of it.

Space Adventures! Wooooo!!!!

A giant sandworm, a Battle Zoo!!! An alien spa, badass good guy Skoodge, and mad max style sci-fi racing.

And I'm glad that Dib is already in his early twenties here. And Dib is just so smart with machines and not a complete lost duck in space. He's sharp as a tack and dumb as an ox this boy and I love him very much.

Lol I'm old. I'm sick of seeing teenage drama sometimes.

And I can also feel a lot of Dion's soul in their fics.

Lots of hurt comfort in here....

It's actually kinda like the Bamsara effect in reverse...

Instead of Dib throwing himself head first into danger...

Zim is the one doing it.

And Dib thinks an appropriate way to fix this is throw himself at the same danger.

Idiots.

Help them.

Parade of Indignities by @rissynicole

Finished recently and since then my heart has never known peace.

It's one of those fandom classics that I ended up reading due to Bamsara's fic recommendation list like roughly two years ago.

Rissy has a way with words and their strengths lend themselves to action scenes extremely well.

Zim finds himself critically ill and it's up to Dib to travel back to irken space to save him.

Thats the basic premise but there is so much more.

A conspiracy, involving the other Invaders, Zim's massive wall of denial, and how everything Zadf happens from Dib's perspective.

I remember reading all the available chapters (like 15 of them) all in one night until 5am the first time I read it.

It's a master suspense and thriller story and I enjoyed it very much.

I still have to leave a huge comment.

Also honorable recommendations:

@melodyofthevoid 's Royalty AU.

....just. it good. Save these kids.

And ofc me and @paketdimensioncomic 's collab fics:

"Jerking around the House" and "Membrane's guide to be a better parent, lose your fucking arms"

You're a delight to work with and I love how your writing style compliments my insane ramblings so they're less wordy.

Also gotta give a shout-out to my Baby Tech Support.

Is it vain to plug your own fics? Maybe.

Do I care.

Nah.

I love my stuff. And I'm glad others do too.

#invader zim #fanfic recs

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

I hope this doesn’t come of as rude or confrontational, but I’m curious about your stance on certain HCs regarding Jonathan.

You’ve previously mentioned in a post that Jonathan despises rapists, and would personally never cross that line. Therefore, it slightly baffles me that you seem to be fine with, even welcome, the writer’s portrayal of him in the New Years Evil “mistress of fear” one-shot where the whole narrative is built around him being an incel stalker with no self-awareness or sense of boundaries, who exhibits borderline sexual predatory behaviors towards a girl possibly half his age. Which also is not an uncommon trope amongst fanworks of him, with creators using him as a stereotypical embodiment of the word “villain”.

I’m in no way suggesting that people shouldn’t consume unhealthy content, and this has nothing to do with kink-shaming. What’s troubling is the fandom inclination to insert him into such roles. He’s manipulative and cruel, but making him very much an un-naunced sexual perpetrator seems like an outright contradiction to his distaste for toxic masculinity and how misanthropic he is.

I truly admire the effort you put in to run your blog, and your constant support for fandom artists. This just might be me overthinking, so I apologize if I’ve bothered you.

I welcome your concern and would be happy to answer.Bare in mind, it’s late here and this may be nonsense but I wanted to give it a shot before going to bed. (if you aw this ask the moment I posted it, for some reason paragraphs were out of order, sorry about that)

Honestly, when I first read the story new Years Evil, I didn't think of him the way to describe. He stalked her, sure...but that was out of a need for revenge for what she said in court. This is VERY vengeful man we're talking about. Always has been that way. (And I honestly don't see him as an incel, I don't even like that word tbh. It's demeaning to men in general when the vast majority aren't like that. )

I don't see him as following her out of sexual desire, yes I will admit some have analyzed that comic and come to that conclusion but I do not agree with it. He followed her out of vengeance, and only when he learned more about her trauma, her bullying...did he start to feel feelings for her. And feelings is a strong word, I'd almsot rather say kinship. That why he had to make her his "Mistress of fear"

and "Mistress of fear" is a title, not a actual mistress/master relationship. I don't think that's what he wanted at all. He saw potential in her, she aligned with him on a traumatic level and he wanted to help her in his own horrible, wrong and manipulative way.

and she wasn't having that. she wasn't going to be like Jonathan Crane. She refused. That's the best part! She told him FUCK NO and purposefully pursued a life better than his own!

----

and as for the fanfic and other word, I DO NOT condone underage relationships with Scarecrow. I do NOT like student/teacher or student/therapist stuff AT ALL. It grosses me out honestly. I would never put that on my blog. And I really do not like anything were he's a sexual predator/deviant or whatever. I don't even like him being horrible and hurtful in the bedroom, either.

----

The biggest reason I have this username and my own Mistress of Fear OC is because I like the idea of Jonathan Crane having someone who shares similar trauma. My story is not like New Year's Evil, it's something that was consensual from day one.

I also want to say that your interpretation of the comic is not wrong, that's what you see and that is fine. I'm not gonna belittle you and I hope this doesn't come off that way. Everyone interprets comics differently. That's why I reblog so many headcanons, cus everyone deserves to have their own idea even if I do not necessarily agree

I hope this helps answer your questions, and thank for for your concern. <3 I promise I am doing my best not to encourage behavior like those fics you mentioned.

#MistressAnswesYourLastWords #Becky Albight #New Year's Evil

[heliads]

Rivalry

You and Peter Parker have hated each other since the second you laid eyes on him. Until one day, you don’t.

masterlist

You run your hands through your hair, exhausted. Lab work always seems to drain you, but your newest project is finally done. You step back, admiring the tidy lab with your neatly labeled test tubes and microscopes all back where they should be. You’re pretty sure you’re the only girl in New York to have her own lab since she was sixteen, but that’s just one of the perks of having none other than Tony Stark as your father.

You take one final look at your lab to make sure everything is in order, then turn on your heel and walk briskly out the door. Peter Parker is coming over in a few minutes, and you want to make sure you’re out of the labs and out of sight by the time he gets here.

Peter Parker. What a guy. You two have had the most intense rivalry since the second you laid eyes on each other. Something about him just makes your blood boil and your fists clench whenever he’s around you. He knows this too, and goes out of his way to make your life miserable. Whether it’s intentionally using lab supplies that he knows you needed, or lording it over you that your dad had made him a special Iron Spider suit and not you, you’ve learned quickly that it’s best to not even be in the same room as him. You’re not sure why you two feel the need to be so antagonistic, but you’re pretty sure it boils down to the fact that both of you want Tony Stark to think of them as his favorite, and so you compete endlessly for his approval.

Unfortunately, it appears you spent too long in your lab, as you see the brown-haired boy making his way down the halls of laboratories towards you. He grins viciously when he catches sight of you. 

“If it isn’t Y/N Stark? How wonderful. I thought you were busy wasting people’s time in another part of the tower.” You glare at him, firing back an insult in turn. “Sorry, I thought wasting time was your job. Isn’t it true that you made Dr. Banner spend two hours with you on some chemistry homework?” Peter’s jaw tightens. “At least he wants to be with me, Y/N. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to get some work done.” With that, he pushes past you, leaving you to storm angrily off to your room.

That was just another meeting between you and Peter. Every time you came in contact, you had to one-up each other with the wittiest retorts or the most stinging insults. Everyone else in the tower knew about it too, with Nat and Sam trying to hold back their laughter after you two were forced to be in the same room together, or Dr. Banner doing his best to schedule work with you two several hours apart so you wouldn’t blow up at each other. Well, everyone knew except your dad. Somehow, he hadn’t managed to pick up on the obvious tensions, and he kept obliviously commenting on how smart the two of you were, and how he was sure you two were getting along well.

A few weeks later, you’re testing your own personal suit of armor on one of the tower’s launch pads. Tony had given you the basic suit, and you had customized it with different gadgets and gizmos to your heart’s content. Now, you calmly did trials of the different repulsors and systems, to make sure everything would work before you took it on a test run. Behind you, the door opens from the tower and you remove your helmet, expecting to see your father when you turn around. Unfortunately, it’s Peter. 

“This area is in use. Go find another dark corner to inhabit.” You wave your hand at Peter, dismissing him, but the boy just walks closer to you until he’s just a few inches away, looking down on you with the overconfidence that only a height difference of a few inches can bring. “Actually, I think this one will be just fine.” Without looking, he fires a web from his wrist and jumps off of the building next to you, soaring away to another open space on the tower. 

“Show-off.” You mutter, telling yourself you’re glad he’s gone. But then why can you still feel his hot breath on your face, and why are your cheeks heating up like this? You clear your throat uneasily, trying to rid your mind of these troublesome thoughts. He’s never bothered you like this, so what’s changed?

You’re lying in your bed that night, still pondering what had happened. Later, you had passed him in the hallways, and despite his usual remarks, you had only been able to summon up a few lackluster retorts before hurriedly walking past him. What was up with you? 

You lay there for a while longer, thinking over the events of that day, when you come to a slow realization. Groaning, you cover your face with your pillow as if hoping to hide the regrettable truth.

You’re in love with Peter Parker.

Over the next few days, you do your best to not think about the boy. You go out of your way to avoid him, hoping that not seeing him for a while will cause your little crush to subside. Yet, when he finally crosses your path once more, your heart still gives a funny little jump when you see him. Great.

To distract yourself, you head to your lab once more. You’ve almost finished the final test on a prototype gauntlet, one that will be able to summon the full suit from just a ring on your finger. Luckily, it works, and you quickly stifle a shriek of delight before running out of the lab to go find your father and show him your newest invention. 

Soon enough, you find him in another one of the labs. You slow down, realizing he’s talking to Peter and hasn’t seen you enter the room. You just catch his last sentence, and when you hear it, your heart drops like a stone.

“You know, kid, I’m really proud of you. Sometimes I wish Y/N could do the things you could do. Well, I have always liked you better than her, anyways. Wish you were my son instead.”

His words cut you like a knife. You freeze in your tracks, feeling your delight from your invention disappear in a flash. From across the room, Peter looks up at you. For some reason, he doesn’t look as happy as he should be. He finally got what he wanted, and now you are left with nothing but desolation. Silently, you make your way out of the lab and onto the roof so you can be alone with the tears that are starting to slowly slide down your cheeks.

However, it seems like the universe has decided to not even give you a little time alone. In a matter of minutes, you can hear the pad of Peter’s footsteps on the roof behind you. Sighing, you turn to him, wiping the tears from your face so he can’t have that satisfaction. “What, Peter? You already got what you wanted. My dad said he wishes you were his child instead and I was there to see it. Can’t you just leave me alone?” 

Peter shakes his head, and you note that he looks surprisingly upset. “This- this isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t mean for him to say that.” You scoff. “Are you kidding me? Of course it’s what you wanted! The entire time I’ve known you, we’ve been at each other’s throats because we wanted Tony to like us the best. Congratulations, you won. Just-” Your voice breaks off. “Just leave me alone.”

You turn away from him again, but Peter’s hand is on your shoulder and delicately turning you around to face him. “I know that’s how it was at the beginning, but if I’m going to be honest, I kind of liked the rivalry just because.” He looks away from you, clearing his throat as if a little embarrassed. “I don’t want you to hate me for the rest of your life because of your dad. Can we at least still be friends?” You let out a derisive laugh. “Still friends? We despise each other!” Peter grins. “Yeah, because it was fun. Come on, Y/N, look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t look forward to seeing me because it was fun to insult each other.” When you look at him, you can’t say anything, but while you’re silent because you feel like you’re drowning in the liquid gold of his eyes, Peter attributes it to you agreeing with him and his grin broadens. “Exactly! I’m right, and we should move on.” 

You roll your eyes, doing your best to will away the heat simmering in your cheeks. “Alright, we’re friends. But what am I supposed to do when I see my dad again? Just talk to him like I don’t know he wishes I wasn’t his daughter?” Peter grimaces at that, but his expression brightens after a few seconds. “Actually, I’ve got an idea. What if we switch the rivalry onto him? We’ll be close friends, as always,” (he ignores your snort of laughter) “And we’ll also ignore him. We’ll just disappear and make him deal with the fact that if he’s going to be a bad parent and say that stuff about preferring one son or daughter, he doesn’t get either one.” You look at Peter suspiciously. “That’s actually not a bad idea, but why are you doing this? You have no reason to help me at all, why throw away everything with Tony now?” Peter twists his hands uncomfortably. “I just feel bad about what he said. It’s my fault, and I don’t like knowing that I came in between the two of you like that.” You look him in the eyes for a heartbeat longer, then nod. “So let’s do it.”

Thus, you and Peter become closer than you ever have. The other visitors to the tower are stunned at your sudden friendship, with Nat eyeing you suspiciously when you happily greet Peter in the morning to Dr. Banner trying to surreptitiously take your temperature to make sure you’re not feverish. It’s surprisingly easy to be close to Peter, and you realize what he said was true- the rivalry was never about Tony, more about how fun it was to have a joking enemy. 

Another thing that’s fun is watching Tony struggle to realize what’s going on. You and Peter disappear whenever he’s around, Peter not showing up to his scheduled lab times and you suddenly not visiting him. He’s tried to call you multiple times to ask where you were, and he’s even had FRIDAY ask you what’s up, but to no avail. You feel a gleeful satisfaction in messing with him, and it just feels like a worthy justice. You can’t describe how painful it felt to hear that your dad wished you weren’t his daughter, and so you feel justified in ignoring him.

Eventually, though, Tony puts his foot down. You’re working with Peter in one of the labs (the boy is surprisingly good with robotic systems) when Tony bursts through the doors. The two of you barely have time to look up when Tony stares at Peter with a menace you’ve never seen directed at the brown-haired boy and points to the door with one finger. “Out, Spider-Boy. I need to have a talk with my daughter.” Peter looks over at you for the briefest of moments, but you can only worriedly return his gaze before he turns to go. Once Peter is out of the room, your dad looks back at you.

“What are you doing? First, you’re suddenly best friends with Parker, then you’re ignoring me. What is up with you?” You raise your eyebrows at him and continue working. “I didn’t realize you knew that Peter and I didn’t like each other.” Tony scoffs. “Of course I knew, I’m your father. Now tell me, why are the two of you trying to avoid me? I haven’t done anything to you.”

At that, you can’t help but retaliate. “Really? You haven’t done anything? How about telling Peter that you don’t like me and you wish he were your son instead of having me as a daughter?” At Tony’s shocked expression, you continue. “Yeah, I knew about that. I was there, but I suppose you wouldn’t have noticed me while you were busy fawning over him. How do you think it felt to know that your own father didn’t want you?”

Tony’s signature smirk is slipping at the sides. “Don’t give me that attitude, Y/N, because I can guarantee you I know how it feels. Yes, I shouldn’t have said that, but why didn’t you just talk to me about it? We could have moved past this by now!” You slam your hand onto a table. “What, so I’m supposed to be the reasonable one here? This was your problem, and I shouldn't have to be the one to fix it.” You let your head fall down into your hands. “How many times has that happened? How many times have you bad-talked me to Peter, or your co-workers, or anyone? I’ve only caught you once, but you seemed so comfortable in saying it that this could happen all the time. I just wanted you to love me, but I guess you would prefer Peter.” You can feel the tears threatening to come, so you leave the room quickly so Tony can’t see you cry.

Peter is waiting for you just outside the lab, pacing in agitation. When he sees you, he looks up and moves to you. “How did it go?” All you can do is give him a wretched look. “Ah, that bad.” From down the hall, you can hear Tony opening the door of the lab. “Y/N? Where did you go?” Peter puts an arm around your shoulder, gently escorting you out of Tony’s field of vision. “Let’s go.’

He takes you back to your room, and you flop down on your bed while he closes the door. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. Honest. I didn’t think it would go that far.” He sits down next to you, and you lean your head up against his shoulder. “It’s alright.” You look up at him, realizing something. “I didn’t think you knew where my room was.” Peter lets out a quiet laugh, wrapping his arms around you. “When I first got to the tower, Tony made sure I knew where it was, just in case something bad happened. He said he wanted to make sure I could come get you if there was an emergency.” You sigh dejectedly. “I knew he wanted to be a good father. He always did. It just hurt to hear him say he didn’t want me.” 

Peter’s hand is soothing against yours. “Trust me, he’s blind to not want you. If I could see you everyday and keep you close, I would never pick anyone else.” His chest stiffens as he realizes what he said, and a light pink blush settles over his cheeks as he tries to explain himself. “Uh, because you’re my friend, and you’re nice and all.” You look up at him once more, reveling in the warmth of his body next to yours, and you can’t help the smile spreading across your face. “Really?” Peter lightly swats your arm. “Oh, shut up, you know what I mean.” You laugh at that. “Make me.” You expect Peter to deliver some witty retort like always, but instead, he closes the distance between the two of you and kisses you softly. 

You’re left speechless, looking up at him in surprise. Of all the ways your rivalry would end, you never thought it would be like this. “See, this is nice. Peace and quiet.” You roll your eyes, but let a contented smile linger on your face when he leans over and kisses you again.

When your father finally dares to come into your room later that night, he just finds Peter gently holding you, both asleep in each other’s arms. Tony goes to leave, but despite his quiet movements Peter still stirs and wakes up. “Mr.- Mr. Stark?” Peter whispers, making sure not to disturb you. “Yeah, kid. It’s fine. Tell her I’m sorry when she wakes up.” With that, he retires soundlessly from the room, leaving Peter to admire your calm features. He loves you, and he’s pretty sure he always has since the second he laid eyes on you. Softly, he closes his eyes once more, falling back into a dreamless slumber with you resting by his side.

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagines #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #spiderman imagines #avengers #avengers imagines #avengers x reader

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Yuma Dark [Prologue]

Monologue

ーー That burning feeling inside my throat,

is the sole thing which vividly remains in my memory.

Crackling flames flare up. 

People scatter about, tears streaming down their faces

as they call out someone’s name.

And I, ran straight towards

said fire.

It’s hot. So incredibly, unbearably hot.

Yet, I desperately dashed forward.

Swallowed by the flames and smoke, 

I could barely still see my own feet with my dried out eyes.

I could barely even breathe,

as the heat assaulted my throat.

Even so, I attempt to shout.

ーー Wanting to find someone.

ーー Wanting to save someone.

???: ( ...Who? )

( Who am I looking for amidst the flames? )

???: ーー ...ar!

???: ( I don’t know. I can’t remember. )

( Who was I searching for? Where was I? For whoーー? )

???: Bear!

ー A young Yuma wakes up and finds himself in town

Lucks: You’re awake?

Bear: ...Boss...

Lucks: Are you okay? You were groaning in your sleep again. (1)

Bear: Yeah...

*Rustle*

Bear: ...What’s with that face, huh? Whatcha grinnin’ for?

Lucks: It’s because you always look like you’re about to cry when you sleep. What’s wrong? Did you dream about your mommy again?

Bear: ...As if! Don’t treat me like a kid!

Lucks: Haha! My bad, my bad! Come on, eat this. It’s today’s grub.

ー He throws some food at him

Bear: ...Where did you pick up fresh bread?

Lucks: I didn’t pick it up, I secretly took it. Of course...Making sure nobody saw me?

You should hurry up and learn how to steal food (2) without getting chased after as well. I’m sure you’re fed up with getting beat up after being caught?

Bear: ...

Lucks: Well, it’s a common beginner’s mistake. Come on, just take a bite already. I’m sure you’re starving after tossing and turning around in your sleep?

Bear: ...Thanks for the food.

Lucks: Now I think about it, quite some time has passed since you hit me up, huh? You still can’t remember anything?

Bear: ...Nothing.

Lucks: I see. Well, if only it was that easy, huh? Have your burns healed yet?

Bear: They’ve gotten way better thanks to the medicine you gave me.

Lucks: I see. Isn’t it rough to be missing your memories?

Bear: ...Well...It is, but...

But, I don’t want to force myself to remember either. I feel...comfortable staying here with you after all.

Lucks: You get to eat without getting beaten up as well, huh?

Bear: ...That’s not what I meant!

Lucks: Haha, I’m joking. Well, if that’s what you want, you can stay here as long as you’d like. The gang likes you as well.

It’s just...Things may not stay this peaceful for long.

Bear: Did something happen?

Lucks: There’s been suspicious movements amongst one of the gangs at the neighboring city. The one lead by that nasty guy sporting a mohawk (3).

Bear: Aah, that idiot whose hair looks like a chicken’s?

Lucks: Yeah...He has already done a number on three of our gang members. If they won’t back down, we won’t be able to avoid a conflict forever.

Bear: Hmph! I’ll take them on at any time! They may think they’re strong together, but they’re no match for us!

Lucks: Haha. When it comes to your built and vigor, you really are formidable. You’re totally one of us now.

...Honestly, I know that continuing doing this won’t solve anything.

Bear: Boss?

Lucks: Say, Bear? Do you like this city?

Bear: ...What do you mean?

Lucks: Exactly as I said it. Take look at those worn down streets and houses. ...This city has started to rot.

All of the aristocrats and politicians keep on running their mouths about revolution or reforms and how it’s all in the best interest of the people but...This is the reality we have to face.

In the end, it’s only the rich people who get to benefit of it. (4) On the other hand, the number of children like us who end up on the streets is only rising. 

But no matter how ashy and grey the city gets, only the sky is still...

Look, it’s this blue...Underneath the blue sky who doesn’t belong to anyone, status or family does not matter.

I believe that all humans are equal and deserve to be free.

...However, I am also aware that such utopian dreams will never come true in this rotten city.

Bear: ...

Lucks: That’s why I’ve decided I will guide this country towards the right path.

To achieve this, I have to fight my way to the top. Of course, using a method other than violence.

Bear: ...Seems like you have a long way ahead of you.

Lucks: It’s frustrating but I’m still a child right now. I’m not stupid enough to think I can win against adults who have political power. I know that this will be a long fight.

But you know, I also want to know just how far a single orphan raised in the filthy slums can go.

Now that I’ve told you all of this, you’ll have to watch me till the very end, Bear. From your VIP seat right next to me.

Bear: Hah, I just hope you don’t drag me into the grave with you.

Lucks: Just give up if that happens. You were out of luck, getting picked up by me.

Bear: ...Guess so. I do feel like I owe you one. 

A huge debt, for giving me a place I can call my own...That is.

Fine then, I’ll stick with you. Until the day...This world changes.

ー The screen fades to black

Yuma: ( Exactly, that was our dream. )

( For us brats who had no money, let alone power, changing the country, or even the world, that was the real Utopia. )

( ...However, it’s strange. )

( Boss, I’m sure you can do it. That’s what I ended up thinking. )

Monologue

A city thorn apart by the destruction of war.

in the very corner of the slums laying in the very back of said city,

that is where I lived at that time.

About my life before that,

I could not remember a single thing.

At some point, I found myself laying on the ground,

of this filthy back-alley. Why was I here? 

Where did I come from?

I did not even know who I was. 

That’s the kind of situation I found myself in.

ーー Yo, what’s up?

A young boy called out for my puzzled self,

greeting with a tone,

as if we had been long-time pals.

That was Lucks.

ーー Got nowhere to go? 

Come with me then.

The moment he spoke those words without asking about what happened,

without a single hint of hesitation. 

I was at a loss for words, 

deeply moved by this boy.

I felt indebted, as well as respect for him,

even a little envy...

But the most accurate way to describe it, would probably be admiration.

And that is how,

I decided to live alongside this person,

who was the leader of a gang.

Based on my physical appearance,

I was given the nickname ‘Bear’.

ー The flashback ends as the scene shifts to the hallway

Yui: Haah...

( It may have been decided by drawing a card, but how could I have picked such a scary-looking person... )

( He punched me when I was brought here, and he goes around calling people ‘Sow’... )

( I wonder if I’ll be okay, having someone like that watch over me...? )

Yuma: Hold it, Sow! (5)

Yui: ...!

Yuma: Don’t just be wanderin’ ‘round like ya own this place! If ya wanna have a look ‘round, at least ask me for permission first!

Yui: ( Speak of the devil...! )

Yuma: Che. Ya really not tryin’ to hide that you’re displeased, huh? ...I’m not exactly thrilled to have to babysit ya either, ya know!?

But well, guess I have no other choice. 

Oi, I’ll only tell ya this once so listen up. These are the rules attached to becomin’ my personal toy.

Yui: Toy!?

Yuma: I’m not wrong, right? My own toy which I can use as I please, whenever I want to. That’s what ya are, right?

Yui: I-It’s my first time hearing about that...!

Yuma: Do I really need to go out of my way to tell ya? That’s what Sows (6) are for, right?

Yui: ( ‘Toy’ and ‘Sow’...That’s just too cruel... )

Yuma: What? Got a problem with it, huh?

Yui: R-Rather than a problem...

Yuma: Aahn!?

Yui: ...!

( Uu...Yuma-kun really is scary with that tall physique and loud voice of his...! )

Yuma: ...

*THUD*

Yui: !!

Yuma: Can’t hear ya very well!? This toy came with a mouth, didn’t it!? Speak up a lil’ more, aahn!?

Yui: ( He’s even more scary when he towers over me like that...! )

I-It’s...nothing...

Yuma: Che, you’re so annoyin’. If ya can’t say, don’t try and mutter a halfbaked response.

This is exactly why I hate chicks who just stand there pissin’ their pants the whole time.

You’re on the same level as a farm’s pig if ya can’t even voice yer own opinion out loud.

Listen up, Sow. Watchin’ those kind of people makes me gag.

Yui: ( He doesn’t have to put it so bluntly... )

( ...However, it’s true that I’m frightened and that I can’t talk back... )

Yuma: Haah...What a fuckin’ pain in the ass.

If it turns out ya don’t taste better than Sugar-chan, I really got the short end of the stick.

Yui: ( Sugar-chan...? Could he be talking about sugar cubes? Also, he’s eating them plain... )

( I wonder if he likes sweet stuff...? )

Yuma: Well, I’ve got no other choice now that I’m chosen. There...!

Yui: Ow...!?

( He strongly wrapped his hand around my throat...!? )

Yuma: Woah there, don’t make a fuss. I’m actually holdin’ back so I don’t snap it in two.

If ya struggle too much, I might end up puttin’ in some strength.

I might just break yer neck even if I didn’t mean to?

Yui: ( I don’t want that...! )

( But it hurts and it’s hard to breathe, so I can’t just keep still...! )

*Thud*

Yuma: Did I not just tell ya to keep still!? ...Che, ya really are a pain. Come on!

*Rustle*

Yui: ( ...He loosened up a little. It’s somewhat less painful like thiーー )

Yuma: Dont get the wrong idea.

You’re a damn infuriatin’ woman. But it seems like ya are the chosen Eve after all. I’ll handle ya with care for now.

Well, either way...Ya chose me. Even if it’s a drag, I can’t alter said truth.

Yui: ( I didn’t choose him myself though... )

Yuma: That being said, ya better try yer best to become a toy to my liking, capiche? 

Yui: Why...me...?

Yuma: Hah. Haven’t those Sakamaki’s already treated ya badly plenty of times anyway?

Yui: That’s...

Yuma: What? Tryin’ to play hard to get now? Don’t cause me any more trouble!

*THUD*

Yuma: Come on. If ya understand, do as I say. If so, I’ll treat ya decently. Hehe.

Yui: ( ...! )

Yuma: Looks like ya don’t like the ring of that? Heh. Perfect. 

Ya should have just been honest back then. Don’t be havin’ regrets now...!

ー Yuma bites her

Yui: !!

( Ow...! He suddenly...! )

Yuma: Nn...Nn?

Yui: ( Uu... )

Yuma: ...Haah...Heeh...Guess this is to be expected of Eve? Ya taste quite nice.

Nn...Hah...Amazin’...The blood’s so sweet...Just like sugar...No, even sweeter?

I wasn’t lookin’ forward to havin’ to watch over some chick’s sad ass but...Hehe, in this case, it might actually be kinda fun.

Yui: Please, stop...

Yuma: Hah, already havin’ regrets? Didn’t I tell ya...!?

Yui: Uu, ah...!

Yuma: ...Hah...

Yui: ( He keeps on thrusting them in and pulling back out...I’m becoming numb from the pain... )

Yuma: Hehe...I think it’s annoyin’ when a woman goes quiet after I yell at her, but I don’t dislike chicks who keep silent durin’ this kinda thing?

I wouldn’t mind if ya expressed yer desires, or let me hear some nice cries...tho!

ー He pushes Yui away

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah...!

*Thud*

Yuma: I’ve had enough. I’m sleepy too so I’m done for today.

Well, guess now ya just have to try yer hardest to be in my good grace, huh?

Yui: ...

Yuma: Hehe...See ya, Sow.

ー Yuma leaves

Yui: ( ...No matter where I go, I always get treated like this. )

( Although I still can’t believe...I actually want to have my blood sucked myself. )

( If I could, I’d honestly love to go to a world without any Vampires... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) The verb うなされる or ‘unasareru’ refers to both ‘having a nightmare/bad dream’ as well as the noises and movements accompanying it.

(2) He uses the term ‘to supply’ or ‘to raise’ here, but it is obvious from the context that they are stealing food. 

(3) They describe his hairstyle as トサカ頭 or ‘tosaka atama’ with ‘tosaka’ referring to a cockscomb.

(4) Literally he says they are the ones who ‘get to suckle the sweet nectar’. 

(5) そこの or ‘soko no’ is a set phrase shouted when you want to stop somenoe in their tracks. You will often hear it being used by the police and such when they spot someone suspicious. Usually it is combined with 君 or ‘kimi’, in which case you can translate it as ‘You over there!’. In this case, I had to alter it a little because he uses Yui’s nickname ‘Sow’. 

(6) The word メスブタ or ‘mesubuta’ technically means ‘Sow’. However, it is also a common slang word to call somewhere a ‘whore’ or ‘slut’.

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

<- [ Yuma prologue ] [ Dark 01 ] ->

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yuma mukami #more blood #diabolik lovers translation #mbyumadarkprolog

[emerald-echeveria-plant]

The Beginning of the End

Elinor, teaching her baby how to walk: that's it Edmund, you can do it!

Edmund: *walks forward a little. Ends up falling on his face and proceeds to cry.* 😭

Elinor: oh honey no! It's okay, you're okay! Here, let mother make it all better! *Picks up Edmund and begins to cradle him*

Silver: is our cub alright darlin??

Elinor: oh he's okay, he just sorta fell on his face..

Edmund: *cries louder*

Silver: give him here, I want to cradle him

Elinor: *hands Edmund to Silver* careful now

Silver, cradles his son: there, there now tiny. It'll be alright... Sh, shhh...

Edmund: *quiets down as he looks at his father* 🥺?

Silver: that wasn't so bad now was it?

Edmund: eh! (◕દ◕)

Silver: heh, you're starting to get heavy. Your mother and I won't be able to care you all the time now Eddie

Edmund: noooo (╥﹏╥)

Elinor: yessss, besides your other siblings are starting to walk as well. You don't want to be the only one now do you?

Edmund: yee (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ

Elinor: oh. We're still going to teach you regardless.

Edmund: (;´∩`;)

Cetus, walks in: aw, if it isn't the three bears :)

Silver, sarcastically: ha, I certainly haven't heard that one before..

Cetus: heh, I mean you guys kinda are. Besides the two little ones then that'd make you guys the five bears. Not as catchy though.

Elinor: Cetus, have you seen Esmeralda? I saw her crawling around the deck but I haven't seen her since.

Cetus: she's with Andrew and the others. She was trying to steal the silverware again and now she's in baby jail.

Elinor and Silver: baby jail..?

//Esmeralda was in a wooden cage with a paper taped into the front. The words written on read "Baby Jail".//

Esmeralda: ＼(≧ﾛ≦＼) vet me out!!

Andrew: Are you gonna steal the silverware again?

Esmeralda: yeesh! >:((

Andrew: then I guess I can't let you out.

Esmeralda: *Screams like a banshee*

Lyka: ah, she in baby jail again?

Andrew, biting into a purp: yup.

Lyka: she's really gotta stop stealing stuff from the kitchen.. and my room.

Andrew: Well, we've been trying to teach her to stop but she still does it. I don't know how I'll be able to get her to stop.

Lyka: guess this tiny little gremlin needs to be taught a lesson..

Esmeralda: hiiiiiissss (◉`Д'◉)

Lyka: but I won't be the one doing it. I have other things to do.. like admiring my shiny objects while the gremlin is locked up. *Leaves*

Jim, walks over: Esme in baby jail again?

Andrew: mhm

Jim: hopefully she'll learn this time.

Sophie: No. No she won't.

Esmeralda: screw you! I sleep now. *Passes out*

Andrew, sighs: let's get you to your parents.. *picks up Esmeralda* I hope she's actually asleep and not tricking me. *Andrew walks away from them and into the private quarters*

Sophie: huh.. so, this is it.

Jim: whats it..?

Sophie: everything. *Leans against the railing*

Jim: um.. hon, I'm not- I'm not understanding what your saying.

Sophie: no it's just. I never expected things to become this way.

Jim: What way? Us being with amazing people and making a found family with them? Silver and Elinor having cubs? Everything in our lives becoming great?? Yeah, I never would've expected it either.

Sophie: heh, yeah. It's really wonderful isn't it?

Jim: it is.. but not as wonderful as you.

Sophie, blushes: oh Jim 💕

//just as they were about to kiss, Tori pokes her head in between the two.//

Tori: HEY what are you guys talkin about??? :DD

Jim: AH! Oh.. Tori, it's just you. You scared me there.

Sophie: Christ you almost gave me a heart attack, don't do that again..

Tori: sorry, just tryin' see what you guys were doin!

Jim: we were just talking about some things on our minds..

Tori: oooo, what kinds of things (✧ω✧)

Sophie: how we never expected this lovely outcome.. I feel like I'm finally happy and relieved. Ever since, you know, my dad passed away... But I can't shake this feeling like something is going to go wrong.

Jim, puts his hand on her shoulder: hey, everythings going to be okay.

Sophie: but what if it doesn't?? What if someone or something is waiting to ruin our happy moments? To destroy our found family..

Jim: that will never happen! And I'll make sure it won't, you know why?

Sophie: why..?

Jim: because as long as we have each other, we'll pull through. Like we always do..

Tori: Jim's right! It's not like there's some sort of powerful villain out there with an equally powerful lackey that'll plan to destroy us all!

Sophie:

Jim:

Tori:

Sophie: that's very specific Tori.

Tori: ha, I know! Been feeling weird lately :D

Jim: it's problem not something to worry about.. Come on, let's go get some stew to get this off our minds.

Sophie: bonzabeast stew?

Jim: bonzabeast stew :)

Sophie: :D

Tori: :D

//As the threw went to the kitchen to get themselves some stew.

On a distant planet on the far end of the etherium, was a building. On the walls described various awful things that happened to people. All under the power of one individual... In the center of the building was a well with a lid. Behind it were mechanical chains connecting to the well and it's lid. Next to the well was a lever but with a warning sign. "An unleashment of hell awaits to those set free the beast". A hooded figure walked towards the well. They read the sign but paid no attention to what the warning implemented. The hooded figure pulled down the lever. The chains clanked together as they appeared to be pulling something up. The lid slowly opened up.

From a platform rose a dark haired woman, wrapped with hundreds of chains. She was on her knees and her head hung low. The hooded figure released her from her imprisonment of chains. When they finished untying her, the woman lunged at the hooded figure. She pinned them against the floor with her hands wrapped around their neck.//

??: Who. Are. You..?

??: I. CAN'T... BREATH!

??: Can't breathe? What type of name is that??

??: NO! I LITERALLY CAN'T BREATHE! YU-YOU'RE chOKING ME!

??: Wait.. *let's go of their neck* you sound familiar..

??, Takes in a deep breath and sighs; eh.. you know even after five hundred years, you're still as strong as ever Queen Hatred.

Hatred: what..

??: Don't recognize me with a hood now don't cha? Heh, that's okay... I've been meaning to loose it. *Proceeds to take off the hooded cape*

Hatred, not surprised: Veronica. My loyal servant. How nice of you to drop by.

Veronica: yup its me! Your most loyal servant! Since you know, most of your other servants wanted you dead- but uh, besides that. I'M SO HAPPY YOU'RE ALIVE! I mean I had a feeling you were alive and I was totally right. I guess wasting all those hundreds of years to rebuild my life was for nothing- *proceeds to get punched in the face*

Hatred: it's been five hundred years and you didn't even bother to look for me in the first place???

Veronica: hey, hey! I didn't know where to look for you! It was HARD! There wasn't a ton of clues at first but hey I managed to find you!

Hatred: ugh.. five hundred years.. five hundred blood years I've been stuck in that well.. my dress has been starting to grey from staying in that dirty water. Do you any form of good news to give me at least..?

Veronica: well, there's good news and very, very, very bad news..

Hatred: what's the good news?

Veronica: your theological influence has and still affects thousands of people!

Hatred: I knew that already.

Veronica: oh.. then I suppose you don't want to hear the bad news.

Hatred: Veronica. What's the bad news..?

Veronica: erm.. your kingdom is now under the control of the Terran empire and they confiscated your staff.

Hatred: WHAT!??!

Veronica, nervously: and your armies were all put to death.. after people realized there was no way changing them back.. I'm sorry..

Hatred, breathes heavily: I am beyond angry at this point but I will save my rage for whoever is in charge of the empire so that I'll be satisfied when I.. TEAR OUT THEIR SPINE!

Veronica: do mind my interruption but uh, how will you accomplish such goal? You don't have an army, all your supporters are long dead, your staff is being held captive somewhere, and your poor Carrion is-

Hatred: dead. I know. I saw him with my very eyes die before me. He tried to protect me.. now that was the truest form of loyalty that I had ever seen.

Veronica: besides me right..??

Hatred:

Veronica:

Hatred: sure. Now then, we must retrieve my staff and then I'll plot my revenge from there. Do you know where it is?

Veronica: It's in the Terran Castle but I must warn you, it's very guarded. They really don't want it to be left out of sight. Anyone under suspicion of stealing it could be put in jail or even worse.. executed.

Hatred: hm, it's a good thing I have you as a body shield in case anything goes wrong. Now then, let's go to Terran to get back what's rightful mine.

Veronica: so we're just gonna barge in there or is there a plan?

Hatred: I'll come up with one when we get there. And once I get back my staff, I'll destroy Terra for trying to getting rid of it's Savior... The eitherium will finally know peace now that I've returned.

(Cetus and Andrew belong to @aalbliii

Sophie belongs to @sleeplessdreamer14

Elinor, Esmeralda, Edmund, Hatred, and Veronica belong to me

Tori belongs to @authorchanlove

Lyka belongs to @princssealexis165)

#DUN DUN DUUUU #is this truly the end for the crew?? #or is it only the beginning?? #lol idk you make your own conclusions #oc insert

[friendandphoe]

okay the formatting on this is gonna be a lil weird bUT!! have this figuring it out/something to last revamp that’s been sitting in my brain for the last few weeks @ahbonjour @museumlad @creativeskull95

There’s no way in hell she’s ever looking Professor Keelson in the eye again. “I’m sorry,” she croaks for the thousandth time, and finds a tissue being pressed into her hand.

“Quite alright, my dear,” Professor Keelson says soothingly, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded over his round belly. “Wipe your face, now, there you go. I’m — well.” And he rubs the bridge of his nose, just under his round wire glasses. “I can’t say I wasn’t expecting this, unfortunately.”

She nods numbly, ice trickling down her spine.

You ruined everything.

“I’m sorry,” she tries again, because it’s all she can think to say, but the professor waves her off with a weathered hand and pushes himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane as he makes his way to the mini fridge he keeps under the bookshelves.

“Now, now,” he says, almost scolding, and pulls out a clementine, a bar of chocolate, and a bottle of water. “Don’t you start that with me, Ms. Ochoa. This is not the first time I’ve had students crying in my office, I daresay it won’t be the last.” And he sits heavily back down in his chair, setting the snacks in front of her. “Eat, drink. Now, I won’t press on what’s been troubling you, but you know, these tired old eyes of mine do still catch a few things here and there, and I have seen you — well. I don’t like to use the word struggling, but you know, perhaps it is a bit more apt than anything else I could think of.” And she knows he’s looking at her, knows those beady black eyes well, but just focuses on unwrapping the chocolate bar as quietly as she can.

What makes you think we want you around?

“You’ve had a rough time of it, this year.”

It’s not a question, but she still finds herself nodding confirmation. “I don’t know what happened.” She says hoarsely, and reaches for the water bottle.

Leave us alone.

“I’ve been wanting this for years, I worked so hard to get into this program, I just—” and she has to press her mouth shut to keep the lump in her throat from escaping.

Leave us alone!

“Some… stuff. Uh, came up, I guess.”

They sit in silence for a minute, then softly: “The human mind is a wonderful, confusing little thing.” Professor Keelson says. She dares a glance up at him, finds him — thank god — staring out his office window. “It tends to block out anything unpleasant we might not want to hear, and often that negativity will build and build and build until, one day, the weight becomes too much to bear.” He sighs and scrubs a hand through his short white beard, messing the hairs out of their orderly style. “And then we must face the unfortunate truth that sometimes what we thought we wanted is, in actuality, not at all the path we should be taking."

She drops her gaze back down to her bouncing knee. “Is it stupid?” She blurts out, watching her leg blur under her rising tears. “I just — this is a good school, a good program, and I’ll have so many job opportunities when I graduate—”

A weathered hand stretches out across the desk, just reaching to where her pinky would've been. “And yet,” Professor Keelson murmurs. “It won’t make you happy.” He sits back in his chair, looking every inch the benevolent Santa Claus his students know him to be. “And given how miserable you’ve been this year, Ms. Ochoa, I daresay your ultimate happiness is worth far more than any graduating job offers.” His smile drops for a half-second. “Though I can’t say I won’t be sorry to see you go. You’re already one of my best students, you know.”

You're an embarrassment to my name and reputation.

A wet little giggle chokes out of her throat, and she wipes down her face one more time. “Don’t tempt me, I’m half-considering staying,” she admits. “Even with all of this.”

“Ah, but if you do, what sort of state will you be in once you graduate?” Professor Keelson says, raising a bushy brow. “All you young folk are the same. You’re young, you have that wonderful, limitless energy, but you must learn to take care of yourselves now, while you have the space to do so. Won’t do you any good to drive yourselves into the ground every night when you’re my age, you know!” He looks at her appraisingly, then smiles wide. “And you know, my dear, there’s great strength in being able to admit you were wrong. I’ve always admired people who are strong enough to chase their dreams instead of following the easy path. Do you have an idea where you’re going, yet?”

Don’t ever come back here, you little— 

“There’s a performing and visual arts conservatory,” she says hesitantly. “River Park, downstate. They’ve got really good photography and filmmaking programs, and, um.” She pauses, unsure how to explain how right it had all felt when she’d been reading about it online. “Well, I have an interview on Wednesday, so.”

Professor Keelson’s smile widens. “River Park! My partner studied illustration there, years ago when we were both young. You’ll do wonderfully.”

She can’t help but feel like his faith is ever-so-slightly misplaced —

I didn't want you.

— maybe it’s just the existential crisis talking, who knows —

Do you understand me?

— but she can’t quite bring herself to argue against the sparkling excitement in the professor’s eyes. She lets him press another chocolate bar and tissue combo into her hand as he shuffles her out of his office, with strict, cheerful instructions to come see him before she leaves for her interview.

You were a mistake.

Tuesday night comes in the blink of an eye; she’d barely dumped her meager wardrobe back into the suitcase she’d kept under her bed and her sticky notes are still haphazardly slapped to the wall above her desk. She’s not exactly sure where the time went — it’s not like she went to any classes. Or ate much. Or was sleeping, really. Granted she did try, but the third time in the same night she woke up sobbing because her blankets had twisted around her leg, trapping her in an all-too-familiar heat vortex—

window won't break it's too hot it hurts to breathe window won't break it's so fucking hot she can't think window won't break but it'll slide get out of this goddamn heat get out get out crunch fuck ow hurts hurts ow fuck hurts her toes shouldn't be ow fuck fuck fuck pointing that way hurts hurts fucking hurts can't feel her knee fuck fuck where's papá—

— she kind of gave up. She doesn't even bother pulling out her shitty, half-broken headphones to try and watch something on Netflix to try and pass the time, she just lays in bed and listens to Rebecca softly snoring five feet away. The ceiling is infinitely more interesting than anything else she could’ve been focusing on, anyway.

Except maybe her portfolio. Which. She hasn’t really. Looked at.

She’s so fucked.

Still, she drags herself out of bed nice and early at 7 am Wednesday morning, beating her alarm by the customary 4 minutes, and actually manages to gather the energy to sift through her remaining clothes to dig out something — well. She doesn’t really have anything “nice,” per say, but she does have an oversized sweater that’ll pass as a dress once she puts on some makeup and a belt and ties her hair up, and that’ll have to be good enough.

You show up to my door looking like that?

River Park is going to laugh her right out the door.

Everything she might need is already shoved unceremoniously into her backpack — wallet, keys, wrist brace, student ID, laptop, flash drive (in its place of honor in the tiny pocket), knee brace, fruit snacks, water bottle — but her eye catches on her DLSR just as she’s finished tying the laces on her most comfortable boot, and she hesitates. She hasn’t really looked at her portfolio much recently — she knows she’s got some old pictures from Manhattan, and maybe some from various campus events that might be good, but it’s been a little hard to go out and take nice shots when she’s been drowning in depression soup for the past four months. Four years. Whatever. Either way, she doesn’t have much to show for herself, and inspiration hasn’t really hit lately.

But River Park is — well, she has no idea, really, she hasn’t seen it in person yet, but the photos online are gorgeous, all glass-and-brick buildings framed by forests and gardens. Very much a college town, from what she can tell, the campus map isn’t really a map so much as a general directory pointing out which buildings were associated with the conservatory, but there was something that felt weirdly homey about seeing those pictures. Maybe it was the layout of the buildings, maybe it was the way they described their classes and professors, maybe it was just the simple fact that everyone in those pictures was genuinely smiling, but she’d gotten this weird, longing ache just below her collarbone that had made her close down all her other college-related tabs and email River Park’s photography and filmmaking department.

Something feels good about that campus. And maybe, if she gets there a little early, she can—

You don't get to come into my life and — and ruin everything I have here.

It’s only seven forty-two. Her interview’s not until one, and the train ride downstate should only take an hour. She’s got time.

Which is how she finds herself knocking on Professor Keelson’s office door, DLSR hanging around her neck, about two hours earlier than she’d been intending to be there, praying to who and whatever might be listening that he’s actually in and she didn’t just horribly fuck this up like she’s been fucking up, oh, who’s to say, just about everything she touches these past few months.

You’re not a part of this family. You never will be.

“Come in, come in!” She hears just beyond the door, and she cautiously peeks in to find the wizened old professor crouching over his printer, staring at it suspiciously as it slowly spits out some document. “Hello, dear. Wasn’t expecting you this early!”

I think you should leave.

“Sorry,” she manages, hovering in the doorway. “I just — change of plans.”

Professor Keelson nods, collects his papers, and creaks over to his desk. “Yes, very good.” he agrees, shuffling the papers into two piles. “Take a seat, I promise I won’t keep you very long. You look nice, by the way.”

She sits, already relaxing in the warm familiarity of Professor Keelson’s overstuffed office. Maybe this is why he’d wanted her to visit before she went, just to make sure she wouldn’t vomit on the interviewers. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re very welcome. Now,” he says, stuffing one pile of papers into a folder. “These are all your important documents: transcripts, transferable credits, disability accommodations, et cetera. Pardon my overstepping, but you did seem a little, ah, frazzled, shall we say? Last you came to speak with me and I was almost positive that you wouldn’t have thought of pulling the paperwork together.”

Which is absolutely true, she hadn’t, and she can’t even bring herself to feel insulted that he’d assumed she wouldn’t. “Thank you very much,” she says, trying desperately to seem calm and cool and collected and not crush her very expensive, very precious camera in her white-knuckle grip.

A mess. You're a mess.

Professor Keelson’s face crinkles into a smile. “You’re very welcome. You’ll be happy to know that, since you’ve already completed all your core classes and general requirements, all of those credits will easily transfer between the schools. There may be a class or two you’ll have to make up, but you should be able to jump right in with your major-specific classes. Now, this,” he says, folding the other papers into an envelope. “Is your letter of recommendation. I’ll put it in the folder with everything else, but I wanted you to know that you had it.”

Oh, fuck, she might start crying again. “Professor—” she starts, but he’s already slid the folder across the desk to her.

“Ms. Ochoa, if I may.” Her mouth snaps shut, and he continues: “Our time together has been short, yes, but you have been one of my favorite students to ever come through these doors. Barring your obvious intelligence, passion, and work ethic, you’re also relentlessly kind, despite everything you’ve gone through.” His gaze fixes on her cheek for the briefest of moments, tracing over the lumps and bumps of her scars, but his eyes are as soft as they’ve ever been. “I don’t presume to know your history, but I know bits of your present, and the person I’ve seen would make a valuable asset to any school she goes to. If you approach your new classes and projects with as much determination as you did mine, I’ve no doubt your new instructors will be as proud of you as I am. I let them know as much.”

 ...

She numbly takes the folder, desperately blinking back tears. “Th-thank you, sir.” She manages, thick in the back of her throat. “I-I’ll do my best.”

Professor Keelson takes up his customary position, hands laced neatly over his belly. “You will.” He agrees, smiling. “Now, you should be heading out soon. I’d hate to make you miss your train, especially if you want to get there early.”

“Yes — yes.” And she gets up on autopilot, sliding the folder into her backpack as carefully as she can manage. “Thank you. Thank you so much, professor, I can’t — I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

She’s halfway out the door when she hears him call: “Ms. Ochoa, one more thing?”

She turns.

The professor smiles benevolently at her from his chair. “Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started.”

And with that, she’s on her way.

Get out.

So, update: maybe deciding to take her portfolio pictures on her way to her college interview was a stupid idea, but to be fair, a lot of her stupid ideas have worked out pretty decently before, so. It’s fine.

Probably.

She definitely doesn’t almost miss the train by snapping shots of the mostly-empty station, but in her defense, the morning fog hadn't quite dissipated yet, and the spooky air of possibility that the tracks had been extending and disappearing into was just begging to be captured. And she absolutely doesn’t continually hop seats throughout the hour-long ride to get different angles of the seats, the blurry towns and roads whizzing past, or even a couple of self-portraits here and there. It’s not like there are people around for her to bother, anyway, so it’s fine. (Probably.) It’s a little hard getting a satisfyingly dramatic shot of her staring out the window, but she thinks the one where they’re passing through a tunnel and she’s locked eyes with her shadowy reflection might be a winner. She won’t really know until she opens them up on her computer, which will probably end up being just before the interview, with her luck, so. Who knows, she might just be wasting her time and battery life.

It’s the most fun she’s had in a while, though.

And. Fuck, maybe it makes no sense, but she's still got that feeling in her chest. It's creeping up to her ponytail, at this point, tugging on the ends of her curls, ordering her to pay attention.

Capture this.

It's important.

Last time she felt like that, she won an award, so. Y'know. Fuck her if she's going to ignore it.

She cuts herself off when there’s ten minutes left in the journey, just to be sure she’s not scrambling to put herself together as she’s pulling up to the station, but ten minutes, it turns out, is both much longer and much shorter than she thought it’d be. Just enough time to run down the list of all the possible ways this could (and would) go wrong, but not enough to steady her racing heart before the train’s slowing down.

You're delusional. This isn't one of your little fairy tales. This is — it's not going to happen.

Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started, she remembers, taking one last breath to steel herself, and swings herself up onto her feet and out the doors.

The station is nice enough, but not terribly different from the one she’d started in besides being a little cleaner, so she shoulders her backpack and makes her way down the stairs and into the town proper.

Which.

Wow.

Maybe it’s just a seasonal thing, maybe not, but all the buildings she can see are draped with hanging lights, and even the curving street lights have extra strands hanging over the sidewalks. She almost wishes she’d scheduled her interview later in the day, just to be able to get a shot of those lights against the dark sky, but contents herself with snapping pictures of the incredibly aesthetic sidewalk and shops. She spots an art supply store with a cheerful blue door sandwiched between a movie theater and an apartment complex that frames up nicely, and there’s a coffee shop with swirling, festive winter-y designs painted on the window with pots of poinsettias framing the corners that’s a — no pun intended — picture-perfect paragon of coziness. She stops maybe a little too long to zoom in on the red leaves and flawless paint, making sure to keep the actual inside of the shop out of focus, because as cute as the beanbags and mismatched armchairs are, she doesn’t really feel like going in to ask if it’s alright for her to take pictures of the small handful of people both in front of and behind the counter.

One last shot of the poinsettias and she moves on, turning her lens to the last few, dying flowers in their garden beds, then to the display window of a bookstore that proudly announces its support of the LGBT community with various painted flags, then to the churning river that cuts through the town and the elegant bridge that arcs proudly above it.

There’s not a lot of people walking around right now, but she can definitely see kids around her age up the street, chatting and laughing amongst themselves as their breath puffs out in front of them. A cute dog bounces over to say hello before its owner tugs it away with a sheepish smile, and even without their leaves, the trees interspersed along the sidewalk stand tall, proud, and lovely.

She’s got that weird ache in her chest again — stronger this time — that indiscernible pull that draws her to stay, and she puts her camera down, puffing out a shaky breath.

What made you think we want you here?

“It doesn’t matter.” She tells herself sternly, leaning up on the sides of the bridge. “It doesn’t matter unless you get in.”

Speaking of. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, fully intending to double check the email she’d been sent with instructions on where to go, but her eye catches on the time.

Twelve forty-six.

So. Maybe not the best idea to go gallivanting around a campus she doesn’t know, especially when she has an extremely important interview to get to, but even as she’s scolding herself, she knows the pink flush in her cheeks isn’t just from the cold, and she’s got more energy now than she’s had in months, so.

Worth it.

Thank god E.A. Archer Hall is straightforward enough to find; Google Maps tells her it’s a seven minute walk in a mostly straight line from where she is on the bridge now, which she just about manages even though it’s cold and her stump is starting to ache. The building is emblazoned with the name right on the side, so it’s impossible to miss, but she needs a keycard to get in, and somehow she thinks her current school ID isn’t exactly going to fly here.

But someone, somewhere, is smiling on her, because she’s only just gotten to oh, shit before a tall woman with vitiligo and long box braids strides towards the door, pushing it open.

“Alejandra Ochoa?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she says as smoothly as she can behind her chattering teeth, and the woman smiles.

“You're right on time. Come on in, let's get started."

#I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT HOW DIFFERENT FIO/STL WOULD GO NOW SO IM REWRITING IT #i dont wanna spoil things bc i am in fact working on the next bits but here are some minor thoughts: #1: alexa starts out as an architecture major then switches schools to go into photography/filmmaking spring semester 2nd year #((not to toot my own horn but the way her major reflects her emotional arc is actually very clever of me if i do say so myself)) #2: alexa and jaimey are half siblings through their dad and there will in fact be more Jaimey/Juno development than ive ever done before #((i have a lot of thoughts about their relationship and how it would grow and develop over time so. lowkey Jaimey redemption arc)) #3: alexa obviously nails this interview and she hangs out on campus for a lil while afterwards to take pictures #((3.5: she does end up going into the coffee shop and there is in fact a Very Cute Barista and she gets Nervous)) #4: the little interjections are things that have been said to Alexa somewhat recently but not all by the same person #thats about it i think anything else would be spoiler-y #n e way i cant wait to loredump all my new thoughts on yall im so sorry in advance for all the notifications you're about to get #im workin on some AU stuff too but lately ive been wanting to write about Normal Kids doing Normal Kid Things so here we are #i hope you enjoyed #movie house #alejandra ochoa #alexa darmond #my writing #shut up phoenix

[jokertrap-ran]

(未定事件簿) EVENT!「异乡行歌·上篇」 [Tears of Themis] EVENT: Romantic Rail Getaway- Later Half Translations (Mo Yi’s Route)

Day 1: The Old Town of Lange― The Charm of the Hometown of Grapes (兰格老城区: 葡乡的魅力)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *The tracking tag for ALL Event Stories will go under: #Tears of an Event

Location: Cultural Salon

Salon Speaker: In lieu of the progress and development of Technology, the fully automated factory assembly line used to produce wine now reached full maturity.

Salon Speaker: People no longer have to worry about the instability of the wine, that would tarnish the quality of the end product, when doing manual brewing.

Salon Speaker: Of course, there are also certain regions that put emphasis on doing it the traditional way and have continued doing so manually.

Salon Speaker: Alas, we cannot afford to leave out Barosco— The famed Country of Wine.

……

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

The speaker’s comedic style of presentation made everyone listen in with apt interest at the “Barosco Wine Culture” talk.

The 2-hour lecture wasn’t lengthy at all. In fact, it actually made people even more interested in the remote Country of Wine.

I was still enamoured by the scent of wine even after the place had emptied out after the talk, unable to snap back to my senses from the trance I had fallen under.

MC: The Country of wine…? I wonder if even the air will carry the fragrance of wine…?

Mo Yi: Are you interested in Barosco?

MC: Yeah. I happened to see a travel guide for Barosco just the other day!

MC: It mentioned a couple of other popular attractions alongside a Railway Tour about Wine Culture, which I find particularly interesting!

In fact, the main purpose why I’d come down to this talk was to learn more about Barosco.

The small Country famous for its Wine Culture had a pleasant climate and boasted beautiful sceneries that made people yearn to see it with their own eyes.

Mo Yi: It’s always better to witness it with one’s own eyes and hear it with one’s own ears. It’ll be best for you to simply go there and experience it for yourself.

MC: Oh?

It was clearly a simple sentence, no matter how you looked at it; but for some reason or another, it really resonated with my heart.

He’s right. I can definitely experience a different sort of beauty from Stellis City over there in Barosco, right?

Plus, I’ve not been too busy lately, so it’ll be no problem at all to just take a couple days of annual leave and go have fun elsewhere.

Mo Yi: (Y/n), do you want to go to Barosco with me?

Mo Yi: Maybe we can go experience the newly opened Railway Train Route together?

MC: You want to go too?

I realized something fatal the moment the words left my mouth. Doesn’t this mean that I’ve technically sold my heart to the idea!?

Mo Yi: I’ve been there a couple of times before. And I’m also relatively familiar with Barosco myself.

Mo Yi: Besides, I’ve been on Spring Vacation lately, so I have plenty of time to spare.

Mo Yi: I wish to accompany you on this trip and be your tour guide, if you don’t mind.

His golden eyes were coloured with expectation, making me unable to refuse him.

MC: I want to go with you too.

Mo Yi: Great. It’s about time you relax a little after having worked so hard for so long.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Thus, that was how we decided to go on a trip together.

Everything all the way from booking to departure went smoothly without a hitch. And soon, we started our journey to the Country of Wine...

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆  

Location: Railway Tour's Starting Station

MC: The Travel Brochure’s so detailed! It introduces the name, type, taste and quality of all the wines in here.

MC: Oo? They even have grapevine planting methods written in this thing…!

I passed the time by reading the Travel Brochure that we’d been handed after passing the customs while waiting for the train to arrive at the Station.

I didn’t expect the brochure to contain not only information about the various scenery spots, but also records that detail the many varieties of local speciality wines.

Simply put, it was literally a small wine encyclopaedia.

Mo Yi: Looks like the locals here are very proud and confident in the wine that’s MC: Yeah. It feels like they’re broadcasting to the world: “Come taste my wine!”.

While we were happily chatting, a member of the staff pushed a trolly past the platform, parking it in a vacant area nearby.

Staff: Dear tourists, come try some fresh handmade wine free of charge!

Staff: Please show your ticket to enjoy this surprise that our Station has specially prepared for you!

Staff: A special reminder that this only applies for adult tourists! Minors are not allowed to drink alcohol!

MC: Looks like we’ve struck the jackpot, Dr. Mo! We have a taste of Barosco wine before we’re even there!

There were many tourists in the Station, but thankfully, there were staff members around to help guide everyone in an orderly fashion.

It didn’t take long before Mo Yi and I both got our share of the goods.

I took a sip in anticipation. The taste of the liquor instantly lingered between my lips and tongue, the complex and rich aroma spreading throughout my palate.

Mo Yi: How’s the taste of Barosco’s handmade wine? Is it anything like you imagined it to be?

Mo Yi swirled his wineglass but didn’t seem interested in taking a drink out of it. Rather, he appeared much more interested in my evaluation of said wine after having just tasted it myself.

MC: It tastes...

▷Choice: Nicer

MC: I think it tastes nicer than any wine I’ve drunk before.

I tried to remember the wine-tasting terms of description that I’d learned back in the Wine Culture Salon back then.

MC: It tastes refreshing, mellow, and smooth… And what else…? Never mind, I can’t think of any more terms to describe it.

MC: In any case, it’s delicious.

Mo Yi: Looks like the wine here is actually pretty good.

MC: Yeah! I’m thinking of bringing a couple of bottles of their Speciality Wine back to Stellis City!

Mo Yi: The trip hasn’t even started yet. Who knows, you might find other local specialities you want to bring back during the trip itself.

MC: Yup! I’ll have to rely on you to lug the rest of the stuff back if it ever comes down to that!

Perhaps the way I spoke with such confidence had amused him, for his eyes were brightly lit with a smile.

Mo Yi: Of course.

▷Choice: Not very different

MC: In all honesty… It doesn’t seem all that different from the wines I’ve drunk before...

It was as delicious as it came, but if I were to describe just how good it was, I’m afraid that’s something way out of my field.

I struggled for a while, trying to find a way to best describe it; only to settle for the plain hard truth moments after.

MC: Well, I guess I don’t have what it takes to be a wine connoisseur.

Mo Yi: It’s not your fault.

Mo Yi: It’s just wine that the Station’s providing the tourists here to taste-test. There are really no other outstanding traits to it other than it being easy to drink.

MC: Heh… The staff will definitely get mad if they heard you say that.

Mo Yi: Well, you’re the only one I plan on telling.

Mo Yi: You’ll have to go to a special local winery if you want to taste fine wine… We should be getting to one in a couple of days.

MC: Yeah! That’s just one more thing to anticipate!

Mo Yi: Alright, it’s about time for us to board.

Mo Yi: I have a feeling that this is going to be one beautiful and extraordinary journey.

MC: Yeah, me too!

With the delicious food, beautiful sceneries to admire, and the company of Dr. Mo added along to the fray, this was turning out to be an extremely exciting trip!

☆⋅⋆…⋅───── ⋆⋅ Romantic Rail Getaway⋅⋆ ────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Next Part: (Day 1: The Old Town of Lange― Lange’s Commercial Street)

#Tears of Themis #Translations #Otome #Mihoyo #未定事件簿 #莫弈 #Vyn Richter #weiding shijian bu #Mo Yi #tears of themis translations #异乡行歌 #Romantic Rail Getaway #Tears of an Event #Fukushima Jun #福島潤

[infernalrevenge]

I’ll Cover You, My Love

Fandom: Choices - Foreign Affairs

Pairing: Ayna Seth x M!MC (Magnus Quezon)

Rating: T (for some self-deprecating stuff)

Summary: Ayna feels guilty about Magnus taking the brunt of the scandal, but he is having none of her negative talk.

Notes: Ayna betrayal plotline? Who's that? Never heard of her. That never happened. I don't know what you're talking about. Anyway, here's a comfort fic for my favorite TA, because I will not take any Ayna slander, not even from Ayna herself. I would just like to say that before I locked in my scandal partner, I had such a hard time picking between Ayna and Blaine, but I went with the latter for maximum drama. Doesn’t mean I still can’t ship my current MC with Ayna though, because I can do what I want. I hope y’all enjoy!

Also hi, I know you asked to be tagged in this :P @robintora

----------

Ayna leaned against her hand propped up on her desk, the words on the paper she was reading starting to blur as she tried her best to stay awake. Ever since she saw the front page cover of the stupid tabloid and Magnus had been the talk of the proverbial town, she hadn’t been able to get a good night's rest as she was wracked with anger and guilt.

Anger at the people who have passed judgement on him so quickly, who decided they knew exactly what kind of person he was based on one stupid picture and the speculations not just on the company he kept, but also on his character...

...and guilt for not being there to take the fall with him. A part of her kept wondering what might have happened if she didn’t get the chance to cover her face the way she did that night. Another part wondered what would have happened if she had just come forward earlier, but Magnus quickly shot the idea down. He explained to her that it was for the best, that he wanted to protect her from the scrutiny.

"You don't have an entire PR team that can spin the story around or make sure it gets buried. This won't just ruin your image -- if you lose your job because of this, it could ruin your life. Please don't say anything to anyone. Let me do this for you, I can handle it," he told her the last time they talked in person. She knew he was just trying to reassure her, but even she can see through the sadness and stress in his eyes, despite the smile he gave then.

At the moment, she simply was not in the best state of mind, and adding to the pile the other things she had going on in her life... she was damn near close to bursting. She was just about to take another sip of coffee, desperate to stay awake, when she heard a knock on her office door. "Come in."

In popped up a familiar head of fiery red hair, his eyes seeming to dart around cautiously before realizing she was alone. A bright smile shone on his face as he came in, waving off to someone from behind the door.

"Magnus, what are you doing here?" Ayna yelped in surprise, standing up.

"I came to see you," he said like it was the most obvious thing, slowly closing the door behind him to make minimal sound.

"What, w-what if someone saw you? Someone might've tailed you o-or people might get suspicious--"

"Hey, don't worry," Magnus stepped toward her, laying his hand on top of hers. "If anyone saw me, they might just think I needed to talk to you about something -- you're also my academic advisor, after all. Plus, Tatum checked and not many other people are out there. I told him to take a short walk so people won't suspect that I’m here for too long."

"Yeah, but we need to be more careful still, I don't want you to--"

"Ayna, I promise I've got it covered, okay?" He squeezed her hand in his, and laid the other one on top. "Just trust me."

She looked up at him, sighing wearily as she let her shoulders relax and sat back down. The young man offered a smile of reassurance, taking a seat from across her desk and carrying it over to the other side to sit next to her. “So, how’ve you been?”

“Honestly? Not great,” she replied, leaning back as she glanced at her laptop screen, multiple windows and tabs opened. “This manuscript isn’t exactly easy to write,” she added with a chuckle. Working on it had been her way of distracting herself from other problems recently, but it wasn’t entirely successful. Her mind had still been brewing with “what-ifs” -- it was much easier to be told not to worry than to actually do it. But she didn’t want to dwell on herself for too long.

“What about you, though? I know the last few weeks have been...” she trailed off, looking down as she was unsure.

“It hasn’t been all bad. I did get Joaquin, after all.” Ah yes, that lynx he got at the pet store during that live interview. Ayna had tuned into it then, and she remembered her fists clenching when the host brought up the scandal unprompted. She almost wished she could have told off that nosy woman to keep out of his personal life, but the way he was able to take back control of it was quite an admirable sight.

“You wanna see pictures?” He excitedly brought out his phone, leaning closer to show her the whole album he had dedicated to the small feline.

“You’ve had him for all of two weeks and you’ve already taken, what, a hundred pictures?” She couldn’t help the amused laugh that escaped her, listening to him coo at nearly every photo he swept through -- some of Joaquin jumping around, some playing with toys, and even some with Dionne in the frame. She had to admit, the combination of the adorable pictures and the equally adorable sight of him describing each one did help lift her spirits a little.

“I can’t help being a proud papa now,” he said, stopping on the picture of the one he took of Joaquin’s first day in the suite. “He’s been helpful in... distracting me, I guess. He somehow just knows what I’m feeling, coming in to comfort me at the right time. The break from reality is always welcome.”

Magnus looked at the woman, noting how her eyebrows furrowed and the frown she wore as he talked about his experience. “Sounds like you might need a break too.”

“This dissertation isn’t gonna finish itself.”

“You know that’s not what I mean, Ayna.”

Guess he managed to learn a thing or two from the lynx then.

“I know you said not to worry about it, that you’d handle it, but...” she sighed, shrinking into herself as she avoided his gaze. “I can’t help it when it’s about you. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through, having thousands of eyes watching you, like they’re waiting for you to slip up.”

The Rutherlandian reached around and wrapped an arm on her shoulders, pulling her closer. “It’s not really anything I haven’t dealt with before. In a way, I’ve kinda gotten used to it.”

“But a scandal of this proportion? That... that has to be different,” she replied, trying to allow herself to lean into him, but not feeling like she deserved his comfort. “It’s not just people waiting for you to mess up now, because they already think you have and they want to watch the whole downward spiral.”

Magnus knew she had been feeling guilty over not getting to step forward and take part of the “blame” (if one could even call it that), but he had no idea how much this was eating at her.

“I can’t help but feel awful that you’ve become the target of such harassment. It wasn’t even your fault! And your mother shouldn’t blame you for everything either, you’re just living your life!”

“Ayna--”

“And here I am. I’m not the one being swarmed by paparazzi and having personal details of my life picked at, but I’m the one who’s stressed and anxious about it. God, how fucking selfish is it of me, feeling sorry for myself when you’re the one dealing with it all. It’s stupid of me to just--”

Ayna felt her face turned up, a gentle yet firm hand cupping her cheek as she met another pair of brown eyes. Anything else she might have wanted to say died off as they looked at each other, but she felt grounded by the way his thumb caressed her cheek.

“You don’t have to feel bad for worrying about me. I love that you care,” he said softly, a small smile playing on his lips. “But it’s not your fault either. What happened already happened, we can’t change that.”

I still wish I could.

The teacher’s assistant let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch as she brought her hand up to cover his. “I... don’t deserve you, Magnus.”

“No, no, don’t say that. You are kind and beautiful, and you just have-- you have such pure intentions. I know you want to weather the storm with me on this, but I’m doing this for both our sakes. I want you to come out of this safe. Even if they did somehow know it was you, I’d still be keeping you out of it. You shouldn’t have to go through what I do.”

She shook her head, her eyes starting to look glassy as she took in his words. She wanted to believe what he was saying about her, but it was so hard. She didn’t know how he could see those things in her, especially now, vulnerable as she was. She could feel her throat start to choke up, but she spoke anyway. “I wish you didn’t have to... go through it alone. This... this isn’t worth it.” I’m not worth it.

“It is worth it, because you are absolutely worth going through this for.” He started to brush away the tears that rolled down her cheek, before digging into his pockets to find a handkerchief.

“And I’m not going through this alone. I still have you here with me,” he patted her face dry gently, wanting to let her absorb the meaning of his words. He wanted her to know that he meant every word -- that he was sincere in his feelings for her. “Even if you’re not out there with me, knowing that you have my back helps give me the strength to get through another day.”

His patient reassurance lightened the burden inside, if only a little. He knew it wouldn’t be so easy to get her to believe it all, but he would make her see it someday, no matter how long it took.

“I care about you so much, Ayna. You mean more to me than you know.”

Even though it didn’t fully relieve her of the heaviness, those words struck her in a way that helped pull her out of her head. For the first time since the day started, she smiled. A genuine, loving smile through her tears, from knowing that the person she adored so deeply felt the same way about her. If earlier her heart ached with sadness and guilt, now it ached with affection and love for him.

“I care about you too, Magnus,” she said with a sniffle, clearing her throat as it came out rather soft and high-pitched. “I care about you so, so much. I just kinda wish... I could, like, smack away every paparazzo trying to get near you right now.”

Magnus laughed at her exclamation. Sure, he expected that kind of outburst from his friend Blaine, but from Ayna? It was both amusing and endearing.

“Well when we become public, maybe you could. Tatum might even help you with that,” he replied, giving her the handkerchief.

A simple word gave her pause, making her look up at him again, a hopeful glint in her eyes. “When?”

“Well yeah. I... I really like you, Ayna. And I’m not just saying that, I really do. I was kinda hoping that, one day, when things are more, uh, quiet, we could actually be... you know, like, together together.” If his arm wasn’t around her then, he would have been wringing his hands together out of nerves. Was it too soon to bring up that kind of talk? Too soon for them? What if he just jumped into this? He hadn’t even considered if she wanted a relationship yet. Wait wait, he should backtrack--

Ayna pushed forward to kiss him, hands cupping his face as she kept him close. It didn’t take long for Magnus to fall into it, returning it just as eagerly. He could practically feel her smiling against him, a light and fluttering sensation filling his stomach. After a few moments in bliss, they slowly pulled apart, a wide smile on both their faces.

“I would love to be together together with you,” she teased, earning an exasperated sigh from the First Son.

“I get the feeling you’re not gonna let me live that down, huh?”

She only laughed in response, pecking him quickly on the lips again. “Thank you for everything so far, Magnus. I hope I didn’t seem ungrateful for your protection.”

“Not at all, don’t give me that talk.” He rested his forehead onto hers, his gaze turning soft. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

Her thumb gently caressed his cheek, smiling fondly at him. “Would you... let me meet Joaquin some time?”

Needless to say, he said yes.

.

.

.

(The next time Magnus visited her, he came in with an odd lump tucked in the front of his hoodie.

“You know, when I asked to meet Joaquin, I didn’t mean you had to sneak him into my office.”

“...do you want me to go then?”

“No, show me the kitten.”)

#choices foreign affairs #choices fa #ayna seth #ayna x mc #ayna seth x mc #male!mc #playchoices

[amanda-glassen]

The Wonder Years: Ch.2

Part of @svuappreciation #WSVU Week Day 1: Getting ready for a party. While getting ready for her first school dance, twelve-year-old Olivia starts a path toward discovering who she is truly meant to be. Sequel to this post 

Olivia loved the outfit she and her mom had picked out, but when she looked in the mirror the next morning, there was still one thing she wanted to change about herself－her hair. Olivia’s shoulder length hair was usually in a ponytail for the purpose of keeping it out of her way when she played sports, but that morning, she realized she wanted a change. She wanted to have her hair neatly cropped like Jamie’s－her mom’s new girlfriend. Olivia had met her two weeks ago when their relationship became official and, although she wasn’t into sports or anything else Olivia was interested in, she made her mom happy and, if her mom liked her, Olivia wanted to give her a chance. 

What she found intriguing was that Jamie didn’t wear dresses and heels and makeup like her mom. She wore ties and vests when they went out on dates and her mom used words like ‘handsome’ and ‘debonair’ to describe her to her friends instead of ‘pretty’ or ‘beautiful’ and, when she looked at her hair in the mirror that morning, she realized she wanted to be handsome and debonair, too. Maybe not debonair after all, Olivia thought. I did run away when Alex flirted with me for the first time. 

Three hours later, Olivia found herself sitting in a chair at a barbershop that Jamie worked at. It was upscale, but made to look rustic, and most of the employees and the patrons were twenty-something and thirty-something hipsters with beards and flannel shirts. Jamie and Olivia were two of only three females there, but Olivia loved the vibe and the way she was made to feel like she fit in. 

“I want my hair like yours,” Olivia told Jamie once she sat down in the chair. Jamie’s hair was neatly cut into a classic side part haircut and Olivia knew it was the look for her.

With every inch of her hair that was cut, Olivia felt like she was becoming who she was always meant to be. She didn’t have to feel confused anymore or worry about why she didn’t fit into the cookie cutter expectation of what a girl should be. Olivia Margaret Benson could now define her identity on her own terms.

As soon as Jamie was finished, Olivia walked over to the chairs in the waiting area to show her mom. “Mom, how do I look?”

Serena nearly gasped when she saw her daughter. “Come closer so I can get a better look at you.” She began to touch her daughter’s newly cropped hair. “You little Cassanova. Look at you!  I’m not letting you go out tonight. I don’t want Alex and every other girl at the dance to fall in love with you and steal you away from me.”

“Mom!” Olivia giggled. “I look okay?”

“Very handsome,” Serena responded. She playfully kissed her daughter’s cheek and Olivia giggled again as she tried to wipe off the red lipstick print that her mom had left on her cheek.

“Mom, not in front of the guys,” Olivia said while she looked around to make sure no one was watching.

“I’m not letting you wash that lipstick off,” Serena teased. “I’m going to make sure it stays on your cheek to deter Alex from kissing you there.”

Olivia smirked. “She’ll just kiss me on the lips.”

“Ollie!” Serena’s eyes grew wide. “That’s it. No dating until you’re twenty.”

Olivia noticed Jamie walking over with a face wipe in hand. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

“Here, kid,” she said as she handed it to Olivia. “I keep these at my station because your mom has a tendency to mark her territory. Just be grateful she didn’t wear her burgundy lipstick. That stuff stained my cheek for the rest of the day. But, Ollie, I’ll be over in a couple of hours to help you get ready for tonight. I have some gifts for you, too.”

“Really?” Olivia asked. “Thanks!” Under normal circumstances, only her mom would be able to get away with calling her Ollie, but since gifts were involved, she figured one more person calling her Ollie couldn’t hurt.

As soon as she got home, Olivia scarfed down a frozen pizza for dinner despite her mom offering to make something much healthier. “Frozen pizza gives me energy,” Olivia told her. “And now that there’s less than ninety minutes until it’s time to leave, I need all the energy I can get.”

While her daughter was eating, Serena began to iron Olivia’s outfit, mainly because she didn’t trust her twelve-year-old’s ironing skills before such an important event in her life. 

“Mom! I’ll get it!” Olivia called out when she heard a knock at their door. It’s Jamie with my gifts! Olivia opened the door to find Jamie holding a dozen roses and she tried unsuccessfully to hide the look of disappointment on her face when she figured that might be her gift. 

“Relax, kid,” Jamie laughed. “Only one of these is for you. Eleven are for me to give to my woman and one is for you to give to yours.”

“...girls really like this sort of thing?” Olivia asked as she examined the perfect red rose Jamie had handed to her. 

“A single red rose is one of the most romantic things you can give your girlfriend,” Jamie pointed out. 

“Then why eleven for my mom?”

“Because eleven months ago today, I had my first date with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Jamie smiled at her.

Olivia gave her a confused look. “You started dating her eleven months ago and she barely became your girlfriend two weeks ago. What took so long?”

Jamie tousled Olivia’s hair. “You of all people should know that you can’t tell Serena Benson what to do. If it were up to me, she would have become my girlfriend the day I met her, but I wanted to wait until she was ready. Even if I had to wait years, your mom is worth the wait.”

“Was I supposed to hear that?” Serena asked when she entered the living room. She had changed into a somewhat short black sweater dress and black stilettos with a 4 inch heel. How anyone could walk in those was beyond Olivia and she could imagine herself falling the moment she took her first step. I’d probably look like a baby giraffe learning how to walk. 

“You look incredible.” Olivia noticed Jamie get up and make her way over to her mom. Do not kiss my mom. Much to Olivia’s chagrin, she did kiss her and even if it was a chaste kiss it made her mom smile in a way that Olivia had never seen her smile before and she was practically beaming when Jamie gave her the flowers. I still don’t want to see anyone kissing my mommy, though.

Olivia made a mental note to compliment Alex’s appearance and give her the rose. I guess girls really do go for that sort of thing. I wonder what else Jamie can teach me.

“Ollie, go get dressed,” Serena urged her. “We have to leave in an hour.”

Olivia groaned. “It doesn’t take an hour to put on pants and a shirt. The game is about to start.”

"Ollie!" Serena gritted her teeth. "Go get dressed."

"Oh, I get it," Olivia tried and failed to wink. "Get rid of the kid so you can kiss."

"No," Serena responded. She held out her hands to help her reluctant daughter off the couch despite the fact that Olivia would miss the first pitch of the Mets game. "I'm getting rid of my kid because she volunteered me to drive her and her girlfriend to the dance without telling me until today and I don't want Mrs. Cabot judging me for being late. I saw her at the parent/teacher conferences last trimester. The woman is...judgy."

"Judgy?" Jamie laughed. "Judgy says the Ivy League English professor. I know you're 10 or 15 years younger than the other moms but you're 33 and 33 is not a child, Serena."

"You're only saying that because you've yet to see Mrs. Cabot's 'you're an irresponsible Millennial' look," Serena responded, finally able to get Olivia off of the couch and away from the Mets game. "She looks you up and down as if she is judging every little detail of your appearance, smirks, and then looks you up and down again."

"Maybe she's just checking you out," Jamie shrugged. "Ever think of that?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response," Serena gently tugged Olivia’s arm. "Come on, Ollie."

Putting her outfit on took less than two minutes, so Olivia wondered why her mom made her get ready so early until she remembered that Jamie had some more gifts for her, one of which was a product for her hair. They were soon standing in front of the vanity mirror in her mom’s bedroom and Olivia was about to begin her first lesson. “This is my favorite pomade,” Jamie told her. “Your girl is gonna love the way it looks on you, kid.”

“Hopefully not too much,” Serena cut in. “She’s still my little Ollie.”

“Babe, your little Ollie has a date to get ready for,” Jamie reminded her. Olivia didn’t exactly approve of anyone calling her mom ‘babe,’ but she was eager for Jamie’s lesson to begin so she could look good for Alex. “Okay, kid, get a dime sized amount on your fingers and rub them together to get it all over your fingertips. We’re gonna keep your hair parted on the side just the way it is, but now we’re gonna slick this front part back and the side down. Move your fingers from just near the roots all the way to the tips and then use the palm of your hand to smooth your hair back.” 

Olivia tried to mimic Jamie’s motions but she wasn’t pleased with the end result. “Why didn’t mine come out as good as yours?”

“I’ve had years of practice, kid,” Jamie said as she fixed Olivia’s hair. “It’ll become second nature before you know it and when you run out of this stuff let me know and I’ll get you some more.”

“Thanks, Jamie,” Olivia responded while she admired her new hairstyle in the mirror. 

“Next is your cologne. What do you usually wear?”

“A gummy bear scented body spray,” Olivia said sheepishly. 

“Hey, don’t be shy about that,” Jamie said as she placed her hand on Olivia’s shoulder. “That’s fine to wear for school or when you’re hanging out with your friends. I have an everyday body spray, too, and then cologne that I wear for more special occasions like when I take your mom out on a date.” She turned to face Serena. “Babe, can you get the cologne from my overnight bag?” Overnight bag? She’s staying overnight and calling my mom ‘babe’ again? But if my mom is happy then I guess she’s okay.

Serena handed Olivia the small bottle of Abercrombie & Fitch cologne that Jamie had purchased for her. “I don’t approve of you wearing anything other than your gummy bear spray,” Serena told her. “But I’m willing to let it slide for tonight.”

“Mom,” Olivia groaned. “Can we please let Jamie work her magic here?”

“Magic?” Serena tried not to laugh. “Don’t let me stand in the way of the magic woman herself.”

“I managed to get the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on,” Jamie reminded her. “That means I must have done something right.” That statement earned Jamie a few kisses, so Olivia decided to make a mental note. Compliments lead to kisses, so be sure to compliment Alex the entire night. What am I saying? I’ll probably faint if she kisses me.

“Okay, Ollie, spritz some of the cologne on yourself here and here,” Jamie said as she pointed to her neck and wrists. “Remember a little goes a long way. You don’t want your girl to start choking when she’s near you. This was my favorite when I was your age and I think you’ll like it, too.”

Olivia spritzed a small amount just as Jamie had instructed her. It smelled somewhat woodsy and very masculine and Olivia had a feeling Alex was going to love it on her.

“Your turn, Serena,” Olivia heard Jamie say.

“What do you mean?” Olivia asked worriedly. 

“Relax, kid,” Jamie laughed. “Now it’s your mom’s turn to work her magic with the styling. She styles me all the time. I don’t know how but most girly girls are experts with sleeves and ties. You should let Alex cuff your sleeves before your next date.”

“Okay, I have two problems with what you said,” Serena began. “One, I’m a grown woman and not a girly girly and, two, can you stop trying to turn my Olliegator into some kind of stud like you? She’s still my baby.”

“I think she’s Alex’s now,” Jamie teased, although her girlfriend was less than amused.

Olivia stood in front of her mom while she styled her long sleeves into ¾ sleeves and tied her tie. It was a more intricate process than Olivia imagined, but her mom’s delicate touch made it all seem so easy. Once her tie was tucked in under her vest, Olivia noticed her mom’s big brown eyes welling with tears.

“Mom, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, reaching out to touch Olivia’s cheek. “You just look so handsome, Ollie, and so grown up. I feel like just yesterday you were wanting me to cuddle you and now you’re going on your first date. It’s all happening so fast.”

Olivia gave her mom a kiss on the cheek. “Alex is my girlfriend, but I’ll always be your Ollie and I’ll always love you more than anyone else in the whole world.”

“I love you so much, darling,” Serena said softly. She knew it wouldn’t be easy to hug Olivia without wrinkling her shirt, but she tried to anyway. “I want you to enjoy yourself. Jamie is going to keep me company so I’m not a nervous wreck, and then when you get home tonight, I want you to tell me that you had the best night of your life because you deserve it, Ollie. You’re such a sweet kid and you deserve so many good things to happen to you.”

The drive to Alex’s house felt like an eternity for Olivia, especially with her mom’s playlist of ‘00s pop music playing throughout the entire drive. When Jamie pulled into the Cabot’s driveway, a pep talk felt appropriate. “You’ve got this, kid,” she said to Olivia who was nervously clutching the stem of the rose she was going to give to her girlfriend. “Alex is gonna love your new look.” Jamie then kissed Serena’s hand. “And babe, try to play nice with Mrs. Cabot.”

#WSVU Week #cabenson #alex cabot #olivia benson #alex and liv: the wonder years

[letsgofoletsgo]

Hey There, Stranger

While the sun went down, the hum of the streets was still present on the isle. People whispering and scheming within the alleys, always on guard for unfriendly faces or unsuspecting targets. Street rats and no-gooders darting across stoney paths into the shadows, avoiding confrontation or stashing whatever goods they could get their hands on. It was an unforgiving environment, one that required constant vigilance and sharp street smarts. 

This was a life Jay knew quite well, initially out of necessity due to his father’s shop, and eventually becoming a source of fun. He had long since mastered the art of the heist, developing a clever wit and quick hands for pickpocketing and knicking trinkets. Though honesty wasn’t a key virtue among the islanders, it was an effective way to make a living, along with Jay being able to steal a few personal items for himself. 

However, tonight the boy found himself not wanting to think about either of those things. Normally, even if he was sneaking about in the shadows, he had a cocky grin on his face, expertly navigating the isle with confidence; Instead, he wandered about the worn down streets with his hands in his pockets, sporting an unusually disgruntled expression. He shot a threatening glare to anyone emerging from the alleyways, most knowing not to cross him on a bad day. After traversing the streets for a bit, he came into a quieter part of the island near the barricaded water. He walked onto a rotting wooden plank that was held up by the edge off a low roof, and stepped onto the building with practiced ease. He ambled across the slightly unstable buildings, cautiously hopping across a few roofs, before arriving at a certain building and sitting down against the cold material of its raised wall.

Jay sighed as he looked upon the island that he called home, trying to quiet the thoughts plaguing his mind. Frustration clawed at his chest, a feeling he wished would just go away. 

More than ever he just wanted to be away from here. 

He wanted to get off this island and go anywhere else. 

He-

“Hey there, stranger.”

He glanced to his side, his gaze meeting the green-haired girl who interrupted his train of thought, giving him a lopsided smile. 

“Wha- Azalea! What are you doing here?” 

She slid down next to him. “I happened to spot a certain thief I know sulking about in the streets.” 

“What makes you say I was ‘sulking’?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“C’mon, the Jay I know doesn’t walk around aimlessly in the middle of the road with his tail between his legs.”

“I wasn’t walking around with- I was just!-” He began, but eventually slumped back down, “...Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

Azalea’s expression softened a bit. “So… Is something going on?”

Jay shifted, eyes not meeting her sight. 

“Just… Stuff with my dad, what else is new.” He gave a solemn chuckle. “I end up breaking one stupid vase and off he goes again with his usual spiel about how irresponsible I am and all this shit I’ve heard a million times. Wasn’t in the mood for it, so… Here I am.” 

 Azalea hesitated for a moment before speaking. “... Jay, I-”

“And like, you just get sick of it after a while, you know? I get that I’m a useless bum that does nothing helpful, but he doesn’t need to remind me every other day! Why does he keep me around if I only ever seem to inconvenience him, huh? Riddle me that!” He finished with a huff.

The two remained silent for a few moments, Jay staring into the darkness trying to quell the anger he had unbottled. He attempted to regain himself, when he suddenly tensed at the feeling of Azalea leaning against his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry.” She said with a genuine tone, one rarely heard on the island. 

The boy stumbled briefly with his words, not knowing how to respond to the unexpected act. “I-I mean, well, hey, ‘s just a matter of time before I find some way to ditch him, right?” He sputtered, attempting to lighten the tone somewhat. 

Azalea shrugged weakly in response, and they went quiet again. She tried to think of something to say, something to ease his mind; when she got an idea. 

“Hey, you wanna know something my mom told me?” She asked. “She said whenever she was upset about something, she’d look up at the stars and make her own little constellations. I always thought it was sort of silly, but she said it always made her feel a little better.”

Jay looked down at her, tilting his head. “Constellations?”

“Yeah! It's probably a bit harder to do on the isle, but I think we could give it a try.” She said with a playful smile. 

Still learning against him, Azalea positioned herself upwards, and began scanning the fairly cloudy sky above them. Jay was rather skeptical of this idea, yet followed her finger as it reached up to the sky.

“I think I see… a little mountain!” She traced a set of stars, outlining her newfound constellation. 

It took him a bit, but he could just about see the shape she described. “Huh. If you tilt your head and squint, I guess I can see where you’re coming from.”

She giggled. “Alright, your turn now.”

Looking up at the stars, Jay tried to mentally trace them in his head, seeing which ones he could piece together. 

“Look! It's a circle!” He said, circling his finger around a group of stars just barely resembling the shape. 

“You call that a circle?” She chided.

“Hey, this was your idea, leave my circle constellations alone.” He returned.

The next half hour was spent with the two pointing out whatever constellations they could string together. Some were rather impressive, some hardly looking like what the other was describing, but ended up being a fun time nonetheless. As time went on, the two exhausted the starry sky of possible designs, mapping it all out to the edge of their vision. However, there was one more pattern she could spot, and she had a clever idea of how to show him. 

“You know, I think I just found my favorite constellation yet.” 

She put both her hands around Jay’s left hand, lifting it to the sky. He was caught a bit off guard, but he let her push his finger into a point and slowly drag it across the sky.  

“See? It's heart!” 

He detected the heart constellation, taking a moment to admire it from the edge of his finger. Upon realizing his hand was still in Azalea’s, he drew back. 

“When did you become such a sap?” Jay teased. 

“When I started following boys onto rooftops and tracing stars with them, I guess.” She said with a smirk. 

“Better be careful Zale, wouldn’t want word getting out how much of a softie you are.” 

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Never turned down an excuse to beat someone up before, heheh.”

The two laughed, the tension that once filled the air no longer present.

“You really know how to make a guy feel better, huh?” 

“Well, glad I could be of service.” 

Jay felt Azalea nuzzle into him further, this time allowing himself to lean into the affection himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this; safe, happy, carefree. His life was so full of thieving and hustling and being on the move, that just sitting here and existing… It was an unfamiliar feeling, but one he welcomed nonetheless.

“Hey, Jay?” Azalea spoke after a moment, yawning, “Do you think… we could stay out here for a bit longer? Don’t really feel like going back home just yet…”

Hearing the sleepy tone in her voice coupled with the warmth of her body next to him, something came over the boy that he couldn’t quite place. He found himself wrapping his arms around her snuggled frame, holding her even closer to him.

“I’d like that.”

Azalea sighed in contentment against his neck, beginning to close her eyes. Jay felt himself start to drift off as well, resting his chin on the top of her head. That night, the two of them let the stress and doubt that surrounded the isle wash away. For just a little bit, they didn’t feel trapped.

In that moment, they had each other, just the two of them. 

They both felt like things would be alright. 

-Tag List-   

@aricka-and-her-fictional-others @geronimostiltonshusband @sculkheartz @proton-selfships @ari-shipping-stuff @pastelsceneselfships23

DM me if you want to be added or removed!

#thief of my heart #selfship #selfshipping #self ship #self shipping #Selfship fic #s/i #f/o #romantic f/o #selfshipping community #selfshipper #selfship community

[sevfanfic]

A Touch in the Dark - Chapter 5: Jar of Stars

Word count: 1,545 

Classes began and the castle was filled with the constant buzz of life. The first few days were very hectic as students got settled but you were able to manage everything on your plate. You found yourself searching for Severus among the crowds often and when you exchanged glances you smiled at him and he would grin softly for a moment then return his face to it’s usual look. One morning you decided to sit next to him at breakfast.

“Good morning, professor.” 

“Good morning, Miss Y/L/N.” 

You watched as students filled the large dining hall. A frown fell over Severus’ face as he watched the children, he couldn’t help but show his dislike of the dunderheads.

“You don’t like children very much, do you?” You laughed. 

“I tolerate them.” He chose his words carefully. 

“What are you going to do if you ever have your own?” The question slipped before you could think about what you were asking. He looked at you with a furrowed brow.

“The thought never crossed my mind.” He spoke quietly. Maybe having a family was possible for him but the idea of it seemed very distant. 

You looked away feeling embarrassed about asking such a personal question. The two of you remained silent for the remainder of breakfast, you smiled and gave him a friendly nod goodbye when it was time for classes to begin. Your students had already been sitting in your classroom when you arrived. Classes went by quickly but during one of the last classes of the day, a 5th year slytherin student was being difficult. 

“Please keep the chatter down.” You raised your voice, targeting the students in the back row. The boy who had been talking during your class looked at you and rolled his eyes, he continued to talk with his friend. You made your way down the middle aisle and placed both hands on the edge of his desk.

“I know you don’t care about listening but others do. So either stop talking or you can leave.” 

“Why would I care about what you have to say?” He spoke with a spiteful tone.

“Because I can make things very difficult for you,” you smiled at him, hoping that he’d back down, “so make your choice.” 

“I’ll leave,” The boy began gathering his things and mumbled to himself “bloody creature of dirt.”

“Alright, please report to your head of house for detention tomorrow.” You walked back to the front of the class not letting the insults bother you, “Now where were we.” 

After finishing the lecture you walked to Severus’ office hoping to find him available to talk to. You knocked lightly on the door and heard him speak to enter. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” he looked up from his papers for a moment and then quickly returned to what he was doing, “what can I do for you?”

“I was wondering if I could ask for advice?” You walked hesitantly toward the large desk. Severus didn’t look up.

“Yes?”

“Is it… Petty of me to give a student detention in the first week of school?” 

“No, presumably they deserve it?” He looked up with a raised brow.

“Yes, well I believe so. He called me a ‘creature of dirt’ but-”

“He deserves far worse than detention,” he looked furious, “who was the mongrel that called you that?” 

“Vincent Blythe.” 

“If that dunderhead has any ounce of self preservation he’ll never use such terms again after I’m done with him.” Severus looked back down at his work. He knew that the boy was referring to you as a mudblood. He hated the word and felt that it had caused too much damage to this world because of those who stood by it’s flawed ideology. You were impressed by the amount of rage that emanated from the man that sat in front of you.

“I hope you understand that you are not-” he paused and waved his hand as if bating away his disgust, “-not a ‘creature of dirt’.” He spoke quietly, almost in a whisper.

“I know, it doesn’t bother me.” You paused. “One other thing,” you stepped closer to his desk, “I’ve been practicing some non-verbal spells and I’ve hit a road-block.” Severus looked at you with a curious glint in his eyes. “I spoke with Flitwick but I am more confused now than I was before.” 

“Non-verbal magic is an advanced form of magic, it takes years to master. It may be too advanced for you.” He spoke cautiously.

“I can do it,” you stood tall in defense, “I just need a little help, that’s all.” 

“Very well,” Severus smirked and stood from his desk, “show me what you can do so far.”

You spent most of the evening with Severus practicing new spells. He admired your eagerness to learn and how much you improved in that short period of time. Watching you warmed his heart and he was eager to have more moments like this. He noticed how you nibbled your bottom lip when you were trying to concentrate and how excited you got when you were successful.  Soon it was time for dinner, you thanked Severus for the small lesson and when you turned to leave he stopped you.

“Come back tomorrow after dinner, I’ll be able to help you more.” He gave you a small smile and you nodded with delight.

Your meetings with Severus in his office became a habit. The two of you usually sat in his office working silently on grading papers and quizzes for about an hour. After that he began his lessons on non-verbal magic. You listened intently to every word hoping to one day be as talented as he was. At times you’d go off on long rants about your students and random ideas. Severus always listened patiently. He didn’t mind that you got distracted easily, he enjoyed hearing your thoughts.

“Focus, you need to clear your mind and visualize the spell.” Severus spoke with a stern tone. You furrowed your brow trying to do as you were told. You struggled with clearing your mind completely but each time you attempted you did better. You visualized the spell and soon you could feel the magic tingling at your fingertips. The feather you had been staring at began to float. Then you tried a different spell and the edges of the feather began to burn and it disappeared in a poof of smoke. 

“I think I get it now.” You beamed at the tall man who looked amused. You had spent many evenings practicing and you felt confident in your new abilities. 

“Good,” he turned and went to the closet at the back of his room. He searched for a moment and then produced a small jar, “this is for you.” He spoke in a low voice, almost mumbling.  

Inside the glass jar was a dark liquid. He handed it to you and when you touched it small particles of light began to shimmer as they floated in a dance-like pattern. It resembled fireflies and stars. You smiled in amazement.

“It’s so beautiful, what is it?” You held the jar close to your face examining its contents.

“It’s a potion that is meant to resemble the night sky, if brewed correctly it will also display the current phase of the moon.” He waved his hand over the glass and you watched as a small moon appeared amidst the dark fluid. One lazy day he had been thinking about the night you stood with him in the tower and how peaceful you looked gazing at the night sky. During one of your side tracked conversations you mentioned how much you loved the stars and moon. You described how as a child you dreamed of becoming an astronaut and you thought Severus wasn’t listening but he was. He paid attention to every detail because he wanted to know you. 

“It’s amazing,” you looked at Severus, “thank you. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever given me.” You wanted to hug the man in front of you but you weren’t sure if he’d appreciate it. So you held the jar against your chest, close to your heart. 

Watching you smile and hold his gift close made Severus melt, he felt his heart grow warm and he revealed a small smile. 

After realizing you had been standing there staring at each other for what seemed like hours, you awkwardly spoke, “It's getting late, I should go.” Severus watched as you gathered your stuff and fumbled with your books. Suddenly, words blurted from his mouth before he could even realize he was speaking. 

“Have dinner with me.” He watched you intently, hoping to glean an idea of what you were thinking.

“Like a date?” You spoke slowly.

“I suppose,” he muttered, “If that’s alright with you?” Severus was genuinely nervous about what you would say.

“Yes, that’s alright with me.” 

“Good,” he could see your cheeks brighten from across the room, “have a good night, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Goodnight, Professor.”

When in the hall you brought a hand to your cheek hoping to cool the redness. He made you feel like there was fire under your skin and it fueled your ever growing attraction. 

#severus #severus x you #severus snape #snape #snape fanfiction #snape x you #fanfic #snape love #severus x reader #snape x reader #severus fanfic #severus lives