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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

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I've been dreaming of the Ambitious King.

Long live the King of Beasts, he who shines like the sun.

He stands atop the heap, clutching victory in his righteous grasp.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

"We've come to finals of the interschool Spelldrive tournament!" an announcer blares over the stadium. "It's down to the wire, and this will be the deciding round. With the scores tied, it’s anyone’s game!!"

A crowd chomps at the bit for a winner to emerge from the field. They lean forward in their seats, clutch onto hope, stuff their mouths with soda and popcorn. This is a show, the players, actors, and they, the audience.

Leona allows himself a smirk.

We’ll give’m a real show-stopper then. That crown is as good as mine.

“What should our strategy be this time, sir?” a teammate—a Scarabia student—asks.

They’re huddled shoulder to shoulder, one student contributed from each of the seven dorms. Their allegiances may lie in different places, but they all wear the same black and violet uniform. They are all Night Ravens, united under one banner: his.

“We’ll finish this in a single decisive blow,” Leona replies, snapping his goggles on. “I’ll take the disc and score us that final point. The rest of you, cover me.”

“You heard the boss,” the smallest player says. It’s Epel, tiny but feisty—a contrast to his big blue eyes and lilac waves of hair. “Don’t worry, Leona-senpai! I’ll fer sure keep’m offa yer tail!”

“That’s what I like to hear, kid.” He raises his head and calls, “Clear!”

And with that, the players peel off into their own positions. The other team, uniforms pristine white and hemmed in royal blue, are patiently waiting. Leona pulls up to the center of the field where the referee and the opposing team’s leader await.

When he looks, he falters.

It’s a face that is frighteningly similar to his own.

The same skin color, the same lion ears and tail, the same construction of the features—if not softer and more friendly. His mane is held up in a ponytail, bright red-orange that fades into a golden yellow. He’s younger than he should be, missing the slight creases under his warm brown eyes and the lines that flank his perpetually smiling mouth.

“Falena?”

An icy dread creeps up from his core. The world around him seems to slow and come to a complete stop.

But this can’t be. My brother is 10 years older than me. He’s no longer a student, he’s—

“Leona? Is something wrong?” Falena inquires with a cheeky grin. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to play against family.”

Annoyance flares up.

Brother or not, Leona detests that smile. The smile of a man that has robbed him of everything.

“Dream on,” he snarls back. “I’m overthrowing Royal Sword Academy and you."

The referee lets the disc drop and blows into his whistle. “BEGIN!!”

"Aaand it's started!!" the announcer declares.

His body instinctively kicks into action. He swipes the frisbee, keeping it afloat in a blaze of blood-red magic.

RSA swarm him, magical pens at the ready.

“Protect him…!” he hears Epel shout. “Protect the king!!”

His team charges, each of them trained on their target. NRC and RSA, reflecting the other, copying movements as they bound around on the field, seeking an opening or cutting it off.

Leona blows into enemy territory, furiously racing to the goal post.

"What's this?! It looks like Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team has already devised a plan to secure victory. They're closing off any aid the RSA team can offer to each other!"

The crowd revs up like an engine coming alive, a slumbering city waking. Blood thunders in his ears, louder than his audience.

"Oh no, you don't!"

"Oooh, and here comes the upset! It's Captain Kingscholar of the RSA team, come to interfere with the game plan!"

Leona swerves, and a stream of fire narrowly misses him. "Tsk!"

A flash of red and gold, and there's his brother at his side. "Sorry, Leona. It won't be that easy."

"Knock it off. I don't have time to play games with you!"

He dives, trying to shake Falena off--but he pursues, relentless in the chase. They thread each other in the sky, trading spells.

Explosions of heat and color. Shards of ice whizzing by, columns of water. Windy whips lashing at them. All-consuming light and darkness.

"This is amazing, folks! We are witnessing a brotherly quarrel the likes of which we've never seen before... Look at that dazzling display of flight technique and spellwork!"

Through it all, Falena' laughs.

So carefree, so cheerful. A knife twists in his chest, and the anger spikes again.

"That's enough...! I'm ending this," Leona snarls.

His magic collects in a single sphere. There is no body to it, no true shape--only a contained vortex of gales. They violently churn in an endless cycle, raising a storm in a jar.

He sends it hurtling at Falena, who moves to conjure a barrier--

Too late.

The ball expands, releasing its energy in one deep sigh. The audience is slammed back into their seats, the players blown to the ground or sent crashing into the bounds of the stadium. They're dazed, confused, scrambling to rebalance on their brooms.

The path, he sees, is clear.

Now...!

He lets out a monstrous roar and blitzes for the goal post. The disc sparkles, charging with power for the final blow as he gallops toward his prize.

The announcer hops back on, his voice frantic. "Could this be it?! Can Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team reclaim the throne from his brother?!"

Noise builds around him. RSA players calling out to each other, NRC players changing his name, the crowd cheering.

It's now or never.

Leona spikes the disc with all his might. It clears, the winning shot like a shooting star. Some golden object encapsulated in a blaze of fire.

The adrenaline in his blood sings with triumph. His tired muscles, his heavy breathing, the sweat upon his brow--badges of honor.

The sound intensifies, joined by whistles and shrieks. Feet stomping, hands clapping. People standing and hugging their neighbors. (Leona thinks he sees Crowley among them, sobbing uncontrollably.)

“This is incredible, ladies and gentlemen! You’ve just witnessed history being made today…! Night Raven College has snatched victory from the jaws of defeat, breaking Royal Sword Academy’s 99 year win streak!!"

Leona slowly returns to the ground, dismounting from his broom. He lands beside Falena, who is sprawled on his back and wearing the usual smile.

"Ahahah, looks like you beat me," he says casually.

"... Fool. Get up, you look ridiculous. The acting king of the Sunset Savanna shouldn't be rolling around in the dirt." Leona looks away, but awkwardly offers a hand.

Falena laughs and accepts it, hauling himself up. "That's a funny joke. When did you get a sense of humor?"

He scowled. "I didn't make one."

"Are you still half asleep? And you still beat me?" Falena punches him in the bicep. "That's my talented big bro."

"What... big bro?"

There it is again: something cold and sinister inside of him. The lingering feeling of wrongness.

Suddenly, the adrenaline in him turns toxic, and he feels as though his flesh and bones are burning. Leona seizes Falena by the shoulders and shakes him.

"What the hell is going on... Gaaah!"

A metallic screech fills the stadium. Pain blossoms in his ears, and Leona rushes to guard them, hands dropping away from Falena.

"Oops, sorry! Technical difficulties, folks!" the announcer apologizes. "It looks like even our equipment wants to cheer for Captain Kingscholar of the NRC team, the star player of today! Let's give him a round of applause!!"

They explode with excitement, Clapping and calling out louder than he can think.

"What a judicious young man!"

"He controls such powerful magic with ease...!"

He stands there, shocked, at the rain of adoration. Him, recognized? Respected, saluted, and seen as the wonder he is? Him?

His mind clouds.

What is this,,,?

"Leona-saaaan!!"

He turns, finding his teammates jogging over, Epel at the head. There are members of his own dorm with them--Ruggie, Jack.

"We gotcha now, Leona-san! Thought you could get away without getting your fur ruffled, huh?" Ruggie snickers, then gives Jack a thumbs-up. "Alright, fellas. You know what to do!"

"Hah, the hell is this? I didn't ask for a surprise after working my tail off."

"Sorry, Leona-senpai! Ruggie-senpai's orders!" Jack says very seriously. "This is the only way to give you a proper sendoff for carrying us to victory... You've earned it!"

"1, 2, 3...!"

"Wha...?!"

Leona is seized and hoisted into the air with a collective whoop of excitement. Tossed up, up, up. The stadium lights glaring, sound blasting.

He returns back to his peer's arms, and heaved up again. Down and up, down and up. Each pass makes him more nauseous, blinded and deafened by the dizzying joy.

"Long live the king! Long live the king!!" they chant.

The king... me? Leona fights against it, pushing as hard as he can.

But his body is tired, his mental capacities drained, his emotions worn. The situation, too sweet, too cloying.

I'm... the king... I won. This is my prize.

He closes his eyes and lets himself fall.

This time, for good.

When he opens them again, he swears he sees a dark figure flying high above the stadium. Not on a broom, but floating of his own accord. A pair of horns protrudes him his head, and he glimpses a pair of ghostly white hands clapping.

One additional spectator with glowing green eyes.

"Congratulations, Kingscholar."

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kaleldobrev · 8 months

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Shiny New Toy (3)

Pairing: Demon!Dean Winchester x Fem!Virgin!Reader

Summary: Dean finally fills you up just like he promised

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (15x), Smut (Fingering, P in V), Unprotected sex (Remember to wrap it up kiddos!), Creampie, Non-Con (If you squint)

Authors Note: Hope you enjoy part 3 of my Demon!Dean smut mini-series! | I think there's probably going to be just one more part | 18+ only please | MDNI | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Shiny New Toy Masterlist

“Dean…” Your voice was barely a whisper. It was so inaudible, that you weren’t even sure if you had even said his name out loud or not.

“Y/N…” His tone had almost matched yours, as if he was making fun of you for the way you had just said his name.

“Please…” Your voice slightly louder than before, but still very much low in tone.

“Please what baby?” He asked, his volume still matching yours. He reached out and started caressing your cheek with this thumb; the action making you shudder.

“I…” Your chest was tight, and there was a giant knot in your stomach. You were struggling; your thoughts and emotions scattered. The man in front of you was a complete stranger to you, despite having the face of one of your best friends, someone that you had fallen in love with. The Dean that you once knew was gone; there wasn’t a hint of him anywhere. In all other circumstances, you would have wanted Dean to have sex with you. Losing your virginity to Dean was something that you often thought about; even almost taking him up on his offer to take your virginity. At least it would have been with someone that you trusted.

“You have to use your words Sweetness.” He said, tilting your chin up just a bit, smirking.

“Go slow…Please.” Your voice slightly begging.

“Aw baby,” he began, sounding almost amused by your plea. “You’re honestly adorable.” He smirked. “Did you forget what I told you before?” He asked. You shook your head. “And what was that?”

“This…this isn’t about me.” You whispered.

He raised a brow. “I’m sorry, what was that?” He leaned in close, almost mockingly.

“This isn’t about me.” Your voice sounding just a little bit more stern, surer of your answer.

“Very good.” He patted the top of your head as if you were some kind of child being praised.

“Dean, if there is any part of you in there that still has…some kind of feelings for me…at all…” As much as you had wanted to finish what you were about to say, you knew there was no point; he wasn’t going to listen to you, not in the current state that he was in.

“Old me had feelings for you.” He admitted. “Old me was, God I hate to say it but, he was in love with you.” Dean being in love with you was something that really hadn't crossed your mind. Since meeting him, you were always under the assumption that he loved you in the way of a little sister or as a friend, nowhere near that of a romantic interest. When you had first met him, you thought that there may of been something there, but as soon as you said your age, his face dropped, and you thought that was that - he no longer had interest in pursuing anything romantic with you. "Sweetheart, were you even paying attention to anything that I was doing when I was human? I mean, think about it. I know you're not stupid baby."

Of course you had caught Dean staring at you hundreds of times, but you never contributed them to anything remotely romantic. "All those times I stared at your ass..." his hand started moving down your body, stopping on your ass, giving it a small slap. You let out a tiny yelp like noise, not expecting him to do what he just did. "All those times I stared at these..." his hands started to remove your arms from your chest, the one thing that you had felt kept you remotely decent. "Honestly Sweetheart, really surprised you never caught me. Sammy even had to snap me out of staring a few times." He chuckled to himself. Fuck, even Sammy knew. You thought.

"You know Sweetheart, you really should have taken me up on my offer." He said. "I would have taken such good care of you. Gone nice and slow...made it all about you..." He started to circle around you, examining you like you were some kind of toy. "I would have been such a gentlemen too and would have even cuddled with you afterwards."

"Now's a crappy time to tell me that you loved me." You said, a slight attitude in your voice. "Why didn't you tell me? I genuinely thought you had no interest considering...my age..." You mumbled the last couple of words, but you were curious, curious as to why he never said anything to you. He had so many opportunities to you and yet, now was the time he decided to let you know.

"I'm not really in the mood for a therapy session Sweetheart." He said, his chest pressed up against your back, his arms wrapped around you. "But you know what I am in the mood for?" He asked, resting his chin on your shoulder. You nodded. "Oh." Your nodding intrigued him. "Does my girl want to tell me?" My girl. One of the many nicknames that you loved that he called you - and one of the only ones that he had simply reserved for you. It sounded so vile coming from his mouth now.

"You want to fuck me." You said simply.

"Ding, ding, ding! That's right baby." He grinned. "Want to know how? Or do you want to be surprised?

You knew it was a tricked question: this wasn't about you, his sentence consistently repeating itself in your head. "Can you...can you tell me?"

"No. I want it to be a surprise." He grinned.

You were lying right where you had started: lying with your back on the table. But this time thankfully, you were actually free to move around, well, at least partially. Your legs were dangling off the table, your ass on the very edge - one wrong move and you'd probably fall off. Dean was positioned between your legs; both hands on your thighs holding your legs wide open. If he wasn't what he was, this would have been a sight that you would have loved to see: Dean Winchester standing fully naked in front of you. "What a fucking sight." He said finally. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of this fucking view." He said, looking into your eyes for a brief moment.

He removed his hands from your thighs, after running his hands on them. The feeling of his warm hands felt nice on your gently cool skin. "And I have to say," he began as he took his dick into his hand. "I've been with a lot of women, and I mean a lot," you hated the bragging. You knew that he was a ladies man, but this was something that you didn't particularly want to hear when you were about to lose your virginity to the man that you have been in love with for years. "But your pussy Sweetheart..." you felt the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. "God..." his free hand gripped your hip. "Probably the best I've ever seen."

You wanted to shut your eyes, but that was something that you couldn't for some reason bring yourself to do. You knew your body was tense, and you were pretty sure that Dean noticed. "Sweetheart, no need to be tense. You're going to feel so fucking good, I promise." He said, his eyes flashing that brief black that you hated before turning into the green shade that you loved. "Having sex, fucking," he started to say as he started pressing his cock inside of you. "It's literally the best thing you'll ever experience in your life." He pushed himself deeper inside of you. As he did, you couldn't help but watch as he started to disappear inside of you. You already felt full and he wasn't even completely inside of you yet.

"Fuck." You said, almost throwing your head back.

He chuckled at your response. "I warned you I was big Sweetheart." He smirked. "You're taking me so, so good though." His compliment felt so weird to you. "There we go..." He half mumbled. You hoped he was all the way in now. "Ready baby?" He asked, nut knew he wasn't really asking. You nodded anyway, and that's when his smirk turned almost devilish.

His pace started out slower than you had thought he would have gone, which is something that you were grateful for. You half expected him to be going at a bruising pace as he had perfectly stated that this wasn't about you.

The room was completely silent except for the sounds of grunting (from Dean), moaning (from you) and the aggressive sounds of slapping of skin when he was pumping in and out of you (more like pounding in out of you). Your thoughts were incoherent, both of his hands were on your hips now, grippingly tight - you knew that you'd end up bruising. Despite the fact that the pace was starting to pick up and this was the first time you had anything remotely like this happen to you, the experience was...enjoyable to say the least. The feeling of him pulling almost all the way out before slamming right back into you was a feeling that you thought that you wouldn't particularly enjoy, but it was something that you had found yourself loving. "Dean..." You moaned, involuntarily. His name coming out of your mouth louder than you had expected it to be. Your legs slowly found themselves wrapping around his waist, your arms going above your head.

You didn't need to look at him to know that he was grinning from ear to ear. "Knew you'd enjoy it." He said. "Wish you could see yourself." One of his hands cupped one of your breasts, squeezing gently; this action causing you to let out yet another moan. "So sensitive." Almost a whisper. "How close are you Sweetness?" One of his hands running down your body, a finger hovering over your clit.

"C-close." You stuttered, feeling a slight pressure in the put of your stomach. "Ar-Are you?"

"Aw baby, how considerate of you to ask. Good girl." He said, chuckling slightly.

His movements started becoming sloppy now - he hadn't answered your question from before. "Dean?" You asked, moaning, slightly hushed.

"Yes baby? Are you going to cum?" You could hear the smirk on his lips. You nodded. "Better not fucking cum before me or they'll be consequences." Consequences? You didn't think about that.

"Dean...I'm..." You knew you were close, and you knew that you were going to cum before him; there was no possible way that you could control yourself. "Dean..."

"Don't fucking do it." He warned, his pace getting aggressively sloppier and faster. It amazed you that he was able to stay inside of you properly.

"F-f-fuck." You said, feeling your orgasm overcome you. As you were going through it, Dean continued to fuck you through it; one of his hands pressing down on your stomach while the other kept its bruising grip on your hips.

"That's it doll..." he said, his voice seductive sounding now. As you were riding out your orgasm, you felt him cum inside of you not even a minute later.

"De-fuck..." You trailed off.

Dean pulled out of you, and you were already missing the feeling of his cock inside of you. Your legs were shaking, and you felt as if you couldn't move. You never had that many orgasms before in such a short period of time. He looked at you as you started breathing heavy, your chest moving up and down as you stayed there lying on the table. One of his fingers started tracing your very sensitive and very wet clit. "So fucking beautiful." He said.

"Dean, please..." you begged, unsure if you were asking him to fuck you again or if you were asking him to give you a break. You weren't sure if you were even able to cum again.

"Need me to fuck you again? It's only been less than a minute Sweetheart. Miss my cock that badly?" You could hear the evil smirk on his face. For some reason you nodded. "I'll make a sex addict out of you yet." He dripped his finger slightly into you, and you moaned at the slight contact. You were incredibly sensitive right now.

"Dean..." You mumbled. His finger started slowly going in and out of your folds, spreading the cum around. He pumped his finger inside of you a few times before adding another one. At this point, you didn't care how desperate or needy you looked right now.

"Greedy, greedy." He almost sang, pulling his fingers out of you. You groaned at the loss. "Gotta punish you first doll."

"P-punish me?" You asked, slightly sitting up now.

"Yep." He said, licking his fingers. "You came before Y/N. I said, if you cum before me, there will be consequences. Now, get your sweet, sweet ass from off the table."

"What...What are you going to do?" Your question was innocent enough, but you knew he wasn't going to give you an innocent answer.

"Oh Sweetheart, I'm going to spank you." He replied. "Now, get off the table and get on all fours. I won't ask again."

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @fullbelieverheart @little-x-wolf @angiebangiee @ilikw @spnfamily-j2 @freewastelandstrawberry @jackles010378 If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #supernatural #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #spn #dean x you #dean x reader #female reader #reader insert

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ayyy-pee · 10 months

Note

Hi lexi! I just finished Strangers in Love and it’s so beautiful that I just don’t want to let it go yet! Would you be open to maybe writing a drabble for Reader x Nanami in this story? Like when they first started dating in high school? I’d love to learn their history

Thank you for all your great works! ❤️

omg anon i'm sooooo sorry it took me so long to get back to you! i'm barely crawling out of my slump lol but i hope you like this. it got a little more angsty than i intended but it felt a little fitting for them idk T_T. hope you enjoy!

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐲

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Female Reader

Summary: You and Nanami take a trip down memory lane.

Genre: Divorced to Lovers AU

The tension is thick in the apartment as you and Nanami set down the final pair of small boxes you'd retrieved from your storage space on the coffee table. Satoru is over for some reason, lounging lazily on the floor. Without a word, you and Nanami take a seat on the sofa, a good amount of space between you two. The boxes sit there, untouched in the silence. Satoru's eyes dart between the two of you before he leans forward and peels the tape off of one.

"I take it therapy didn't go well..." Satoru sighs, pulling out the contents of the box.

An understatement. It's been quiet like this since you and Nanami had returned home from one of your couples therapy sessions. After a very intense session going over the reasons for your initial divorce, you both left feeling...honestly? frustrated with each other.

Where you felt justified in how you handled the divorce situation, Nanami disagreed. He'd of course apologized for what you felt contributed to your first marriage’s demise, but felt he would have been willing to work through things had you come to him, had you waited for him to be in a better headspace.

Where Nanami voiced how he felt things could have worked out differently, you disagreed. You didn't feel there was a way to work past your issues at the time, Nanami being too stubborn and "too tired" to ever listen.

There didn't seem to be a way for you two to agree. And so, your therapist gave you homework. Your assignment? Go on a walk down memory lane together. Apparently you and Nanami had a habit of dwelling on the negatives when it came to discussing your divorce. It was a sore spot for you both.

You'd left therapy, annoyed and in a sour mood, muttering to Nanami to take you to your storage space where all the pictures, gifts and memories…your entire relationship with Nanami stood frozen in time. And Nanami, in as sour a mood as you, agreed. You'd arrived home to find Gojo sprawled out on your floor. Who even knew how he'd gotten in there? At this point, you just assumed he could move through walls.

"Ewwww, you kept this?" Satoru whines, pulling a picture of him, Nanami and you in high school from the box. It's a selfie of the three of you, though Satoru should’ve never been in it. You reach forward, taking the tiny photo from your friend and Nanami closes the distance on the sofa, scooting closer to have a good look.

You remember it well, the first picture you'd ever taken together.

High School Years

It had been a little under a year since you'd transferred to Jujutsu Technical High School for your Junior year and you were still adjusting to how insanely difficult the curriculum was. You were lounging beneath the shade of a tree during lunch period with Nanami, quietly chatting about how damn hard your physics lab was. Nanami listened patiently, humming to indicate he was paying attention to you as he flipped through your physics work.

You're waiting for your friend, Haibara, to get out of class, the one who'd introduced you to Nanami in the first place. You all made plans to meet, but he was running behind and this was honestly your first time being alone with Nanami. You'd worried you wouldn't have anything to talk to him about. Mostly because Nanami was always so quiet, hardly spoke a word to you even with Haibara around. Also because despite his silence, you had the biggest crush on your blonde, sidebanged friend of a friend. Though you could never bring up the courage to say anything about it.

Mainly because Nanami felt wholly unapproachable. Even so, you were surprised at how easy it was to simply...exist together without Haibara as a buffer.

Nanami's eyes scan over your classwork and after a moment of silence, he closes the book, placing it gently into your lap which makes your heart feel like it's trying to crawl out of your chest.

"If you'd like..." he begins quietly. "I can help you study the material. I'm pretty good at physics." He stares down at his legs laid out before him, a faint hint of pink dusting his cheeks. "I could come by your dorm tonight? We can study in the common room...if that's ok."

"Really?" You tried not to sound too excited at the prospect of spending more alone time with Nanami.

"I'd be happy to."

And for the first time since you'd met Nanami, you saw the tiniest bit of a smile appear on his lips. Your eyes widened, heart pounded, cheeks heated when you saw how beautiful the boy before you truly was. Now you wore a goofy smile of your own.

"I'd like that, Nanami."

He squirms briefly in his spot before he clears his throat. "You can call me Kento."

"Kento..." You test his name on your tongue, smiling when you see Nanami now staring at you, eyes wide, noticing the now red tips of his ears. So cute. "Thank you, Ken-"

"Awww, look at the lovebirds," an annoying voice you'd grown accustomed to teased. You sighed, looking up to find none other than your school nuisance looming over you, Satoru Gojo grinning down at you. "Should I take a pic so you losers can remember your first date?"

And before you could reply, he snapped a selfie of you three; you and Nanami still sitting on the ground and Gojo front and center, two fingers up to make a peace sign. He spun around, laughing when he saw the pic before he turned his phone to show it to you both. "Man, I'm sending this to Haibara. He'll love it."

Next to you, Nanami stands. "Speaking of, I need to get to class. I know Yu has your cell number. Is it okay for him to give it to me?"

"Oh, I can just give it to you now?" You offer, an attempt to delay his departure.

Gojo interrupted. "Oh, yeah! Gimme your number, too since we're all sharing." His thick, round sunglasses slipped down the slope of his nose, one of his freakishly blue eyes winking at you.

Nanami scowled at the upperclassman. "It's fine. I'll get it from Yu and will text you to meet up later. I have to get to class." He sneered at Gojo one last time as the snowy haired man settled down in Nanami's spot under the tree. "Try not to be more unbearable than usual, Gojo," he gritted out, making Gojo chuckle next to you.

You did get a text from Nanami that night. You'd met up to study, which was mostly you sneaking peeks at Nanami's beautiful side profile as he sat as close as he could to you, dragging his finger along your physics workbook.

Beneath the table, where you both gripped the edges of your seats, Nanami's fingers brushed against yours. The sudden contact made you jump. But Nanami didn't react, still explaining something about 7s and 3s. You weren’t listening. You brushed off the touch as an accident, until you felt Nanami’s finger on yours again. Just his pinky, gently running over your knuckles before he stopped when you didn't move. Nanami continued going over the study materials as if nothing happened, the red hue on his ears returning and you suddenly realized this was his tell. He was nervous, embarrassed. Just like you.

Heart in your throat, you reached your pinky over and brushed it along his knuckles, his reaction immediate as he linked his pinky with yours.

Above the table, your eyes met, words lodged in your throat as you held hands with no one in the world aware except you two. Nanami's phone buzzes and it takes him a few seconds to tear his gaze away from yours before he picks it up. He tells you it's a text message from Haibara, so you lean over to see. There's a photo attached.

Yu Haibara: How's the study date going?

The tips of Nanami's ears redden even more if possible, and he quickly brushes his long golden strands over them. This makes you giggle beside him.

Yu Haibara: Gojo sent me this earlier and I meant to text it to you.

1 Image Attached

Nanami opens the photo, the selfie of you, him and Gojo taking over his screen.

"Cute," you whisper, the grip of your pinky tightening around Nanami's under the table. He doesn't say anything. He taps the screen, probably sending a reply back before he gets back to studying.

At the end of the night, as Nanami packs his belongings back into his bag, his phone buzzes again with a message. You spare a quick glance at his screen, doing a double take when you see his phone background. It's pixelized from the zoom, a little blurry, but it's definitely you beneath the tree that afternoon, rolling your eyes as Gojo took the picture.

That night changed everything for you and Nanami. Group outings soon turned into date nights, study sessions to makeout sessions, awkward smiles to shy kisses. All of it with Nanami, your first boyfriend, your first husband, your first love.

Present Day

Satoru has now dumped most of the box’s contents out. You and Nanami have joined him on the floor, you sitting between Nanami's legs with your back pressed against his front.

"Oh my god, Ken, do you remember this one?" You hold up a photo of you both at prom, awkwardly holding each other in front of a tacky background. Nanami is wearing a smile that looks almost painful, and you with your obnoxious blue eyeshadow are beaming.

Nanami chuckles behind you. "Yes, I do. I remember Satoru spiking the lemonade and Yu vomiting everywhere."

You throw your head back with a laugh. "Yeah, right after he found us making out on the side of the building. Threw up the second he saw us..." You recall between giggles. "So rude."

Across the table, Satoru shifts the contents of the last box around. "He would've loved to see you guys workin' it out." He mutters. "Miss that kid sometimes."

"Me too," you and Nanami say in unison.

"He knew I loved you before I did," Nanami says solemnly, thinking of Yu. "He would've never let us get to the point we did."

You nod, remembering the wide, contagious smile of your first friend at your new school. And it brings you back to the beginning of you and Nanami, who you would've never known without Yu.

Haibara, who helped you navigate your relationship early on and hilariously guided you through your awkward stages with Nanami.

The picture reminds you of the first time you'd held hands in public. It takes you back to your first kiss outside of your dorm room after seeing a movie with Nanami, the first time you'd made love. It pulls back all of your first memories of your early stages with Nanami. The picture reminds you of when you'd moved in with Nanami. Makes you think about all of your ups and downs and what inevitably brought you back to each other.

It reminds you of Yu, who listened whenever you argued with Nanami and pushed for you both to make up. He knew you belonged together, even if you didn’t know it yet. It was Yu who brought you together, and Yu who was ultimately reminding you all these years later to remember where you began.

You lean back into Nanami's embrace when he holds up another photo; this one is of you two at your first wedding, both wearing big smiles. By that time, Yu had been long gone. But you made the most the day just the way Yu would’ve wanted you to. You couldn't wait to start your lives together, to be together forever.

You didn't know what the future held back then. But you know what the future holds now - a love withstanding time. A love that survives. A love that you know you both would fight for no matter what this time.

This force of nature, this strong, pure, burning love that never left either of you, even when you were miles and prefectures apart. It was what brought you together again, the reason you both were willing to try again.

Nanami kisses your head, breathing into your hair. "I want to keep looking through these, but I want to talk about therapy later. Really sit down and talk, okay?"

You nod, eyes still glued to your wedding picture and your heart swells knowing that one day soon, you'll be doing this all over again with the man you've loved for as long as you can remember.

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morinuu · 4 months

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☀︎｜tamaki x female reader drabble. you're a client and jealous asf. pining for tamaki lol. angst? maybe. mention of nsfw but nothing's reealllyyy happening. also u have ear piercings & you know haruhi's a girl.

your hands trembled a bit as you stared at the butter knife in held between your fingers, stopped mid-action from spreading the jam on your bread any further.

ouran had the tendency to make you feel lonely, rejected. generally... unhappy.

although there was one thing existing within the grand corridors of ouran that shone like the sun, blinding, immediately burning all of those emotions away. a tall boy whose smile seemed contagious, never failing to make your chest feel fuzzy and warm, as if you'd met a saint before entering heaven.

his blond hair almost radiated a halo surrounding his head, one you could never help but stop and admire.

but you knew you wouldn't be entering heaven, not when you couldn't defeat the disgusting, vile jealousy that sat in your throat whenever his hands would pat her head. or when his words would compliment her 'cuteness! purely adorable manners!' and whatever else he found just delightful on her.

so maybe he wasn't actually burning the negative emotions away. perhaps he was replacing them with others, and not with better ones.

it took a while before you realised tamaki suoh had been waving his hand in your face to bring you back to the conversation.

"miss yn?"

you blinked your thoughts away and looked back at the boy in front of you. with a quick cough to clear your throat, you nodded at the boy and finished spreading the jam on your toast.

"sorry, what were you saying?" you asked with a gentle voice, trying to seem unaffected by the thoughts occupying your brain viciously.

you didn't want to think you disliked haruhi, because she wasn't a bad person. nor had she done anything wrong. she wasn't the problem.

tamaki was.

he and his stupid amethyst-like orbs that sparkled in the sun under the cherry blossom trees during that shitty event the host club was partaking in. his long slender fingers that didn't hold a single scratch on them, proving just how little they'd physically struggled. his delicate pale neck that would be painted a bright pink whenever haruhi did anything.

he was the damn problem.

because you wished his eyes would stare down at you lovingly instead, while his pretty fingers swiped up your folds and played with your clit, his neck and ears flushed because he was rutting his hips on you, panting because of you.

haruhi wasn't to blame if tamaki refused to smear your lipbalm by kissing and licking your mouth in the changing rooms before he had to entertain another client.

so why was she such an irritating sight?

"is everything okay, dear? you haven't finished your tea yet and our date's almost over. that's unusual for you." he frowned slightly and moved a bit closer to you, brushing your hair out of your face to caress your cheek tenderly, as though you were to break.

you always would take the opportunity and lean into his palm, closing your eyes a bit to pretend that any of it was real. he made it seem real every time. and every time you fooled yourself without failure.

'he remembered my tea order!' last week.

'he noticed my haircut!' the month before.

and all those other small, teeny tiny specks of attention he paid to you - they all contributed to your delusions.

"everything's fine, tamaki. i'm just a bit tired. thank you for asking." you assured him and thrived in the feeling of his warm hand on your cheek for however many seconds he'd keep it there before inevitably having to stop.

you wished you could lean just a bit more to the left and peck and bite his fingers as softly as you could.

"if anything is on your mind, remember you can always share it with me, darling. you know i care for you." his hand moved up to caress your ear, the pad of his fingertips tenderly playing with all sorts of different jewellery you'd inserted throughout the surface, before it moved down to your jaw and finally completely separated from your face to rest back on his lap.

oh how you hated (or, tried to at least) his gentle stare and angelic voice that spewed lies in your face shamelessly for money.

that same stupid voice that suddenly got honest and passionate only for the first-year girl disguised as a petit boy.

'liar.'

you shook your head and gave a polite smile, repeating to him that "everything's fine" because you'd rather have the earth swallow you whole than admit your stomach was twisting and turning with raw, sinful envy.

tamaki opened his mouth to say something else, but just before his melodic voice could escape his throat, a yellow dress worn by his next client came into view. 'oh, right. end of appointment.'

"until next time, dear." he chuckled a bit before kissing the back of your hand as farewell.

he might've been called a prince in his club, but your type was always 'the dickheads' as your mum called them. in an ironic way, it made complete sense.

you stared at him walking away while trying to finish your aforementioned tea but to no avail. it was too bitter on your tongue, despite it being your favourite drink of choice, and you couldn't help but feel guilty. because you knew the reason you couldn't stomach it anymore wasn't because it'd gotten cold.

but because just before he went to sit with his next client, he went to check on haruhi.

because he would never turn to look at you the same way - or at all really.

it felt like he belonged to her, with her, and your pathetic attempts at getting closer to him were just an example of you being impudent.

you knew tamaki would never be yours.

and you didn't hate haruhi, but you really fucking wished she would disappear.

#ohshc #ohshc fanfic #tamaki suoh #tamaki x reader #tamaki suoh x reader #haruhi cameo lol #haruhi fujioka #ouran high school host club #ouran host club #angst #ohshc x reader #light angst #fanfiction

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mangoshorthand · 1 year

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I know there’s a scene in season 3 where five is singing at diego and lila’a wedding and i’m so in love with that scene 😭 I wish there was more to it especially since drunk five is the best five so i wanna ask for one with what five would do for y/n while he’s drunk pls 🙏🏻🙏🏻 it can be fluff or smut just so the thing cute n schemxy from my mans five 🙏🏻🙏🏻 (some ideas:a wedding, party, worn out from work, a tiny date gone rogue 🤭)

I also love drunk Five. Please accept this as my humble smutty offering. There is a link to the song Five sings in the body of the text so feel free to listen along!

Boy Wonder | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader 2.7k words, Rated E

Diego and Lila were long gone, off in search of somewhere where the floor buzzed along with the music. The bar you ended up in was only supposed to be a place for you to have a few drinks before finding somewhere higher energy, but you and Five found yourselves quite happily installed there, drinking and putting the world to rights.

“And another thing,” he slurred, finishing his seventh Guinness with a slurp, “academics never actually do anything. They just navel gaze.”

“I’m just saying,” you reply, “you’d know more about theoretical physics than the Professors. You’d have a lot to offer the world.”

“Hey, I’ve given the world enough already. I saved it-” he counted on his fingers and then stopped, his brow furrowed, “...actually, did I save it?”

He contemplated for a second and then shrugged, waving this away with a careless hand.

“Well, whatever. I don’t want to go into academia.”

“Fair enough,” you said, “just a thought.”

He returned his attention to the laminated book on the table and you took the cue to buy you both another drink.

This was all your doing, really. Well, not entirely, (you didn’t pour that amount of stout down his neck) but you at least contributed to the atmosphere that got him into that state.

Work was shitty, more than usually shitty, in fact. The only consolation throughout was the knowledge that it was Friday. When five o’clock finally rolled around, all you wanted to do was blow off some steam.

After a few hours at the bar, you were more than tipsy yourself, but Five could drink you under the table and you learned very early in your relationship not to try and keep up with him. He was looking down at the book with a serious expression, flicking through the pages. As you watched, he cast off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves to the elbow, as if the mental energy needed to make his choice was making him sweat.

By the time you returned to the table, his tie was loosened and a couple of shirt buttons undone too.

“You not chosen yet?”

“I have if you wanna duet.”

“No!” you said, “I don’t know why you want to go up there.”

“Because it’s fun, obv-ously,” he replied, trying to sound reasonable but failing as a result of his slurred voice.

“Come on,” he said, cajolingly, looking up at you with his most beguiling smile, “I’ll be John Travolta and you can be Olivia Newton John.”

“Honestly,” you wince, “I think I’d rather perform my own appendectomy.”

“Fine,” he said, “I’ll do it on my own. I’ll blow this shitty place away, you watch."

“Okay," you said, eyebrows raised skeptically, "but you’re up next so you better choose quick.”

He returned his eyes the the list of songs and leaned his cheek heavily on his hand. He scanned the list for a couple more seconds before a look of triumph spread over his face.

“I got one! It’s gonna be great-”

“It’s My Way, isn’t it?” you said, cutting him off.

He looked at you disbelievingly.

“How did you-?”

“Because that’s what every man over fifty chooses to sing at a Karaoke place.”

Five pouted at this, eyebrows lowering and bottom lip sticking out.

The expression, so out-of-character for him, struck your booze-clouded brain as funny, and you let out a messy peal of laughter, choking on your Guinness and indelicately spitting some back into the glass.

Five, watching this, began to laugh too. Disregarding the book, he leaned heavily against you, his shoulder shaking with chuckles as it made contact with your upper arm. Then, in a feline tribute of affection, he rubbed his head against yours.

“I-love you,” he said, softly.

You closed your eyes and returned his caress.

“I love you too, sweet guy.”

“You’re my best friend- yknow that?”

You smiled and started to laugh a little again as he continued to rub himself against you, probably slightly harder than he intended and apparently oblivious to how strange he might look to an onlooker.

“You’re my best friend and you touch my penis. It’s am-azing,” he said, voice dragging slightly. “You’re amazing.”

Laughing at this, you held him to you more tightly, stroking his firm bicep through the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re just as-bolutely perfect.” he added.

Though this warmed your heart, as the more sober of the pair of you, you were aware that the guy currently singing was limping his way through the final bars of Wonderwall.

“Come on, sweet guy.” you said, kissing his hair, “You gonna go up there and make everyone listen to My Way?”

“Nah.” he said, sitting up straight and pulling himself to an unsteady stand, “I got a better idea.”

With an overly-expressive wink, he wended his way over, weaving slightly. He took the mic from the last patron with a muttered word of thanks and cursed as he tripped up the single step up onto the slightly raised karaoke stage. You wince in sympathy, slightly anxious for what's to come.

After consulting the laminated song list one more time, he punched the number into the machine with a look of intense concentration as he tried not to let his finger stray too far from the keypad.

As the introduction began, filling the noisy bar with a soulful whine of guitar, he tried to fumble the mic back into its stand, but seemed to give up as the first line of the song came upon him.

Leaning close, he briefly closed his eyes as he began to sing.

youtube

“If I could make a wish, I think I'd pass, Can't think of anythin' I need,”

When his eyes opened again, they lock on you, messy hair falling in a curtain over one eye.

“No cigarettes, no sleep, no light, no sound, Nothing to eat, no books to read,”

Even as drunk as he was, he sounded good; his voice an unusual middle ground between tenor and baritone. Though the words themselves were a little indistinct at times, the notes flowed from one to another with a sweet, natural fluidity.

“Making love with you, Has left me peaceful, warm, and tired,”

His mouth twitched at this, and you smiled back. That exchanged look told you that your minds were similarly engaged, both recalling the same memories.

“What more could I ask, There's nothing left to be desired,”

His body moved, swaying gently along with the music, the smile still alive in his eyes. Though his posture was slumped, his movements were surprisingly graceful.

“Peace came upon me and it leaves me weak, So sleep, silent angel, Go to sleep”

As the chorus swelled, he again closed his eyes in feeling with the words he was singing. He leaned into the mic stand, tipping it slightly.

“Sometimes, all I need is the air that I breathe And to love you…” smut below cut

Finally back at home, you stripped off your dress while Five chomped his way mercilessly through a sharing bag of Ruffles. He was sitting at his desk in his unbuttoned shirt and underwear, having become distracted by the chips midway through getting changed. His hair was sticking up in all directions from all the times he ran his fingers through it.

“We’re going to be hungover tomorrow, aren’t we?” you groan, the slight spinning of your head notifying you of the fact.

“Not me!” he said through a huge mouthful, “I’m the fuckin’ boy wonder. Gonna enjoy this twenty-year old metabolism while I have it. I’ll probably sleep it off and wake up fresh as a daisy.”

“All right, don’t rub it in,” you grumbled, pulling on a short nightdress.

He chuckled blurrily.

“Drink that coffee, you’ll be fine, and finish these Ruffles,” he said, offering you the bag.

With one hand, you fanned yourself like a flustered debutante having just been asked to dance.

“I’m honored.”

“Well,” he said with ironic suavity, “I’ll get by without them. I got you.”

You took them from him and smiled.

“You sure know how to treat a lady.”

“I happen to know you ain’t no lady.” he said, drunken grin broadening.

“Luckily for me,” he added, with a wink.

You rolled your eyes at him, sat down on the bed and pulled your knees up to your chest. Leaning comfortably against the headboard, you sipped your coffee and slowly ate the chips looking unseeingly up at the ceiling. You weren’t as badly drunk as you thought: it wasn’t even spinning.

After a few minute, a prickling sensation alerted you to his eyes upon you.

Five was always afflicted by a terrible case of rubber neck, and this intensified tenfold when drunk. Some days, all you had to do was walk past to turn his head, eyes following you with a salacious glower. You thought it probably had something to do with his heightened libido since de-aging his body combined with having spent most of his life without female company of the flesh-and-blood variety. Whatever the reason, his lust was very easy to inflame.

His eyes were combing your upper thighs and the swell of buttocks just skimmed by the hem of your night dress. Not removing his gaze, he stood up and moved towards the bed.

“You know…I’m not too drunk. Want me to show you how I treat a lady?”

Teasingly, you stretched your legs out, obscuring yourself from his view and forcing his eyes to find yours.

“You want your best friend to touch your penis again?”

He nodded and smiled mischievously. The sharp canines beneath his lips gave him the look of a tormenting imp. That look was all you needed. You slipped off your panties and shuffled down the bed inviting him to join you with a single tilt of your head.

He didn’t need further prompting, depositing his coffee on the desk and practically tripping over himself to join you. He was already half-hard beneath his underwear, tenting at what looked like an uncomfortable angle. His dick apparently already insisting on release, he pulled off the offending garment and let it out with a gentle bounce.

Stroking your thighs, he parted your legs to reveal your spread pussy.

“Mm.” he said, as he looked down at you, “hello.”

He let out an almost disbelieving exhale, cock swelling visibly as he drank in the sight. He took himself in hand and gave himself a long stroke before lowering his head and running his tongue down the entire length of your slit. With a s long exhale, he surfaced again.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, voice heavy with lascivious satisfaction, “I don’t need ruffles when I can eat this.”

Despite the arousal, you couldn’t help laughing at this; at the seriousness with which he said it. Alcohol and dirty-talk was always a strange combination with Five. He was usually talkative during sex, but any amount of booze loosened his lips even more, throwing the few inhibitions he had out of the window. The result was sometimes hot, sometimes bizarre and most often a strange mix of the two.

“It’s lucky they weren’t jalapeno flavor,” you quip.

Clearly not wanting to entertain any more joking around, he looked at you with a look of amused disapproval before repositioning himself. He straddled your shoulders and let his cock hang tantalizingly down towards your face. After another couple of moments stroking your legs and enjoying the view, he dove hungrily back between your thighs.

You raised your head to meet him and you groaned simultaneously as the length of his cock slid between your lips. His licks, pecks and sucks at your clitoris sent dancing flames outwards from the point his lips touched.

It was hard to focus on pleasuring him when he was driving you so mad with his attentions. He was eating you as if he’d been starved for days. His tongue wormed its way inside you, seeking out the wetness he’d already produced and tasting it eagerly.

You moaned around his dick as your pussy gushed juice in time with his mouth. Even with the booze and with his far-from-precise mouth movements, every sensation felt magnified: every one of his appreciative little noises sent a jolt up your body, each twinge of pleasure he gave you like the sun on the petals of an opening flower.

His hair tickled your thighs, sending little shocks along your sensitive skin; his hands holding your legs open anchored you to the bed. As he lowered himself as far into your mouth as he could go, his balls came into gentle contact with your face. The clean, pheromone scent of him adding to the heady mix of sensation carrying you away.

You caressed them gently with one hand as he surfaced again, hissing as he withdrew from your mouth.

“Oh, you’re perfect,” he said, throatily.

“So are you,” you whispered, gently rubbing the velvet shaft of his dick with your other hand.

“Look at you,” he breathed.

He made a noise part way between a moan and a sigh as he stroked his fingers across your clit, dipping his fingers down to spread some of the wetness higher up.

Soon, apparently unable to resist, he was back with his head between your legs and his cock in your mouth. In time with his licks and sucks to your clit, his pelvis began to move in tiny little thrusts, fucking your face with gentle, measured strokes. You could feel his hot breath on you as his pleasure grew.

“Mmm!” you groaned, your voice muffled around his cock, so hard yet twitching in your mouth.

His tongue was causing flutters like wings across every nerve: overlapping flames absorbing all the air inside you, building ripples upon ripples until all was turmoil. At last, you let go and came into his mouth, your humming cries undulating and sending vibrations along his entire length.

As you rode out the waves of your orgasm, you could feel his body tensing as he edged closer to his own peak, slowing his hips to try to delay. You didn’t allow this, putting one hand on each of his buttcheeks and urging him to resume his movements.

As your muscles relaxed and warmth spread from the site of your orgasm outwards, Five’s pelvis resumed its neat thrusts, tight and careful not to make you uncomfortable. With your permission granted, he chased his own pleasure, growling like some desperate, cornered creature.

Coming to his aid, you bobbed your head in time with his movements, taking him to the depth he needed. After that, it only took a few shifts of your tongue around his shaft before it began pumping into you, stretching the tight press of your lips with each shot. His come hit the back of your throat, salty and potent as he let out a wavering cry.

Slowly, tensing from the sensitivity, he withdrew. He clambered off you and knelt for on the bed, looking comically scruffy with his hair all over the place, (not to mention the fact he was wearing nothing but his shirt).

He blinked dazedly, staring into the middle distance. The rush of the retreating orgasm apparently interacting strangely with his intoxication. After a couple of moments, he turned his eyes to you, fixing you with a bloodshot gaze.

“That was really good, but I’m afraid I need to puke now.”

And then, he was at the window with surprising speed, lifting the sash and vomiting liquid and undigested potato chips heavily onto the fire escape. For a few moments after the retching subsided, he stayed that way, head out of the window with the cool night air whipping around his face, refreshing his lungs.

His hand fumbled for a water bottle by the bed and you passed it to him. With this, he rinsed his mouth three times and poured the rest outside to swill some of his puke away.

“Sorry about that,” he said, catching his breath and closing the window.

“I’ll try not to take it personally.” you said, “you okay?”

“Sure. I just need to sleep now.”

You budged up, giving him room and he moved gratefully into your arms. He snuggled backwards into you, laying his head tightly against yours. You were spooning him warm and close.

He sighed contentedly, as if right here was where he always wanted to be; the entire day having only served to deprive him of his need.

“Whatever happened to ‘the boy wonder’”

Five snickered weakly.

“Turns out he tapped out around that sixth Guinness or so.”

You laid a gentle kiss on head.

"You feeling better after your shitty day?" He mumbled, sleepily.

“Yes,” you said, soothingly, stroking his messy hair, “but you need to go to sleep, darling. Just go to sleep."

Request Masterlist >> HERE

NOTE: Did I perhaps ruin the sexy vibes with the vomiting? Quite possibly. I regret nothing.

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See masterlist for request status and more.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy imagine #umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy smut #the umbrella academy five #umbrella academy number five #umbrella academy five x reader #umbrella academy five x you #five hargreaves x you #five hargreaves x reader #number five imagine #five hargreeves imagine #number 5 imagine #number 5 x reader #number five x you #five hargreeves x f reader

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ramsywasalittlelamb · 7 months

Text

who’s gonna come around when you break?

A Regressor!Tim and Caregiver!Bruce fic, 1.2k words, hurt/comfort, content warning for panic attacks! do not ship! photos found on pinterest!

I rarely see any fics of a regressor helping a caregiver!!! especially in dc agere fics which is WILD because everyone has issues in dc, let’s be real.

anyway this is my contribution, listen to drive by the cars because it makes me sob wildly.

Tim had a habit of wandering around when he was small.

Not that anyone minded. To be honest, everyone quite enjoyed seeing a tiny Tim waltzing about with a stuffed animal in hand, observing every detail of the manor so delicately and intricately, from the carvings in the wooden banisters, to the brush strokes from the tall and wide portraits hung on the walls.

However, Tim being the curious person he is, eventually stumbled upon the entrance to the BatCave, which then very quickly led to a new rule. Don’t go into the BatCave if you’re starting to, or already, feel regressed. Easy and simple, right?

Wrong.

Tim knew rules were set in place for protection over him, but it was the BatCave, the most secure and safe place he could ever imagine himself to be in, and there was typically at least one person inside at all times. A family consisting of over-workers will guarantee that.

Since the rules were set in stone, and there was someone always inside, he never really got to see the area when he was small, much to his chagrin. Whether it be from being bribed with a movie night, or being picked up and carried for the rest of the day to ensure he wouldn’t go into the room again, he could never manage to get in there without being ushered out in seconds.

Until now.

Most of the family had come back from patrol by now, Duke, Damian and Cassandra all in their bedrooms and most likely sleeping. Stephanie had sent a text to him that she was going to be taking a shower, so she was occupied for the time being. Jason didn’t come back to the manor after his patrol, rather finding comfort in the familiarity of his apartment tonight. Dick in a similar position, but he had work the next morning and was on his way to Blüdhaven. Which then left Bruce, who (as typical,) stayed out later than any of the others just to ensure the necessities of the night were finished, which gave Tim an opening to sneak downstairs and into the cave.

Grabbing his well-trusted dragon plush, honorably named Aurora, he carefully set foot on his adventure to the BatCave. Tiptoeing his way down the halls and past the kitchen where Alfred was focused on preparing an after patrol tray for Bruce, he managed to sneak his way into the cave without a hitch.

He silently cheered for himself, holding Aurora close to his chest and bopping her snout with the front of the pacifier in his mouth as he took the steps one at a time, ensuring his plan doesn’t go awry by an accident down the stairs.

So concentrated on the ground below him and where he placed his foot next, it wasn’t until he hit the bottom step that he heard the labored breathing by the computer, looking up to see Bruce sitting in the chair.

Not Batman. No. Bruce. The batsuit was rid of his body, the only evidence of the suit being the reddened outline on his cheeks from the cowl. Rather, he suited a black turtleneck with a pair of sweatpants.

Apparently, Bruce hadn’t heard him either, judging by how hadn’t moved from where he sat, his head in his hands, shoulders shaking and his chest stuttering with his breaths. Tim’s brows furrowed at the sight— at the behavior. It’s not like he’s never seen Bruce like this before, but… It was different. He wasn’t sporting the cowl or any part of the suit, it wasn’t the day of an unwelcoming reminder of a specific event. It was just Bruce.

Inching closer, shuffling his socked feet quietly against the floor, he finally caught Bruce’s attention. His head whips up to meet Tim’s eyes, the first thing that catches Tim’s attention is how red and glossy Bruce’s eyes are, how alert they are as they surveyed Tim’s face. Tears gather at Bruce’s lashes and the puffiness of his under eyes stands out underneath the dark lighting.. It felt like a staring contest into each other’s crystal blue eyes, neither one of them daring to break the silence as they took in one another’s appearance and the situation.

“Hey—” Bruce croaks out, a hitch in his breath like he’d just been running, his mouth seemingly trying to catch up to his brain. “Hey, kiddo.” He manages to choke out, one of his hands coming up to his chest and massaging his sternum with his knuckles.

Even when regressed, Tim knows what a panic attack feels and looks like. Tim also knows he’s smart enough to figure out that that’s what’s happening.

Except, he’s unsure of how to comfort Bruce. Their eye contact continues as Tim tries to think of ways to help him out. What would help Tim if he had a panic attack? Ooh! An even better idea! What would Bruce do if Tim was having a panic attack?

He shuffles over further, Bruce’s eyebrows knitting together in confusion, his once watery eyes now spilling with tears out onto his cheeks with a snuffle. Tim places Aurora into Bruce’s free hand and guides his arms into a hugging position with the dragon.

Bruce stares downward at the stuffed animal, and then back up to his son in confusion, but still allowing the boy to do whatever the boy wants, he can’t find much care to stop him. Tim drops his head on Bruce’s shoulder, wrapping his arms– as much as he can in their position– around Bruce’s body, and it’s just then that it clicks for Bruce just what’s happening.

“Oh. Oh, thank you, buddy.” He sniffles out, keeping one arm wrapped around Aurora’s plush body, the other moving to wrap around Tim as he leans his head against the younger’s shoulder, letting the boy perform his attempt to help clear his consciousness, clenching his shaking hand onto the back fabric of Tim’s shirt.

Tim nods, patting his hand against Bruce’s back, just like Bruce does to him when he cries. “‘s’okay, papa. You’re safe.” He mumbles behind the pacifier, remembering the words being echoed to him repeatedly whilst being held in Bruce’s warm embrace not too many nights ago.

The words break a sob from Bruce’s throat, tucking his head into the crook of Tim’s neck and bringing Tim to sit in his lap, almost like a cradle as he rocks the both of them side to side in the chair, the two finding themselves in silence and holding each other for quite some time. Tim lets Bruce cry, he remembers him and the others saying it’s okay to cry, and it’s helpful to just cry it out sometimes.

“I am safe. Thank you.” Bruce finally says, holding Tim— and Aurora, he could never forget her.— tighter and closer to himself, pressing a kiss to the crown and forehead of Tim’s head, and of course a kiss to Aurora’s forehead and snout at Tim’s hand nudging her closer to his face.

Tim’s eyes had fallen shut at some point while in Bruce’s arms, and while Bruce would get up and move the two of them to a comfier and warmer spot than an office chair in a cave, he can’t find the energy to move Tim, or himself. Besides, it’s not like this would be the first time they’ve fallen asleep like this in the BatCave. And it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

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seblaineworld · 6 months

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Hey, Seblainers! Hellooooo, everyone else!

10 Days Of Seblaine 2023

One week to go, so without further ado, here's what you need to know.

The Rules

When?

The event runs from Monday, 6th November until 23:59 (of your own timezone) on Wednesday, 15th November 2023.

Who can take part?

Anyone and everyone who shares our love of Seblaine!

What can we submit?

Anything, as long as it is Seblaine-related! Fics, Graphics, Gifs, Gifsets, Videos, Manips, Playlists, Lyrics - anything you like as long as it fits the themes! I'm looking forward to seeing what everyone comes up with.

Please remember to use #seblaineworld and #10daysofseblaine2023 within the first five tags, and also put @seblaineworld somewhere in your posts, since we all know just how flaky Tumblr can be about tags!

Be sensible and considerate. We're all very well aware that not everyone shares our love of Seblaine, and even within our own tiny (but always fierce!) Seblainer Fandom, there are those who don't enjoy mature content, so please ensure you tag everything you submit, appropriately.

Can I cross-post/combine themes?

Yes! You can combine any of the themes that you want. And if your contribution does combine multiple themes, you can post on whichever day you prefer. Just remember, if your contribution covers one or more themes, then properly tag all days, regardless of which day you actually post on.

Do I need to submit something for every day?

Absolutely not. If you want to contribute something for every day, then of course you can, but it's not a requirement at all. We know everyone has busy lives, so just do what you can when you can.

Can I post a WIP or work if it fits the themes, even if I started it weeks/months/years before the 10 Days Of Seblaine 2023 announcement?

Absolutely! Your Admin has done this before and feels it's a great way to refresh creativity and blow the cobwebs off that piece you just KNOW you'll finish one day, but never quite seem to have the time. So feel free to post anything you've already started - providing it fits one of the themes!

On that note, do remember that the free day is exactly that. A day on which you can write about/create for, any theme you like! Did your favourite theme just narrowly miss out on being in the top 10? If so, here's your chance to do something about it and make a submission using that theme!

When do we start posting?

As soon as it becomes Monday 6th November in your own timezone, post your work to your Tumblr blog, and as mentioned above, please tag it #seblaineworld and #10daysofseblaine2023 then make sure those two are in your first five tags. Please also put @seblaineworld somewhere in your post.

If you're going to be posting your work to another site like AO3 or ff.net, post a properly tagged link on your Tumblr.

A 10 Days Of Seblaine collection will be added to AO3.

Can I post early?

Sorry, no. 🙃 Tumblr, however, does let you schedule posts so you can schedule the post for the right day, even if you're not going to be around that day. Of course this gets a little harder to navigate if you’re also posting to another site like AO3/ff.net, so if this is going to be a problem, let me know and I'll figure it out.

Can I post late?

Now for the good news - yes! I know how time can occasionally run away from us all, so as long as everything is tagged properly you can post (for example) your day 3 piece on day 7 and that won't be a problem. Everything posted will be reblogged until Friday, November 24th.

You haven't reblogged my work yet!

No problem! Again, because Tumblr can be (very!) erratic, just send me an Ask or message if I haven't reblogged your work within 24 hours of you posting it, and I will get onto it right away.

So, that's it for now! I'm excited to see all your work, and hope you'll join me for this bumper celebration of Seblaine on Monday 6th November. Just drop me an Ask or message if you have a question that's not been addressed here, and I'll see you all a week today!

Ail 💜

#seblaine #sebastian smythe #blaine anderson #seblainer events #10daysofseblaine2023 #signal boost #please share and reblog #seblaineworld

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mystery-talks-chaos · 8 months

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Hola!

This is my first contribution to Wholesome Sonic and Tails Wednesday. I totally did not stay up until 2 am looking for an idea, nor did I wake up and 5:18 to write this, so don't worry! XD

You can read this on either AO3 or Wattpad

I hope everyone enjoys!!!

Movie Night

Sonic hummed pulling put a bunch of disks.

What movie would a 5 year old like?

He didn't want to put one of those baby movies, yet, at the same time, he knew he shouldn't put something too violent and/or un- child friendly...

Despite the fact that the same five year old fights roots on a daily basis, and technically is a genius, he knew that he still had the mind of a kid.

Maybe he should ask the kid what movie he likes?

Yeah... that seems like a good idea...

Though he did want to keep it a surprise...

Oh well...

They'll be watching it either way! No point of not asking.

Making up his mind, Sonic made his way to his little brother in a Sonic second.

"Hey Tails!" Sonic exclaimed, startling the poor little fox.

Tails turned himself to his caller, cocking his head to the side a bit in confusion. He put down the wrench and watch that was in his hand, and turned his full attention to the Hedgehog in front of him.

"Yes?" He asked, confused to why the elder needed him in the moment.

"How are ya bud? Working hard I see?" Sonic said rushinbto his brothers side, putting a hand over the other's shoulder.

"Uh, not really..." the younger admitted pulling at the ends of his gloves uncomfortably, "I'm just fixing Knuckles communicator, nothing big."

"Nothing big ya say? Really? Cause I know for a fact that I wouldn't be able to do half of the things your doing right now!" Sonic joked trying to ease the other's mood.

Sadly, however, that didn't work, as the younger of the two let out a small huff of laughter.

"Yeah... um- I'm not really in the, I guess, 'mood' for working on something to big, you know?" Taiks said looking down in slighht shame, before plastering a smile and looking at the other, " What about you? Do you need something?"

Despite not being pleased at the other's answer, the Hedgehog shaked his head and decided to answer the question.

"Yes, actually!" Sonic said, keeping note of how the younger's shoulder deflated slightly at his answer, "I was wondering what movie you liked."

Tails clearly wasn't not expecting that answer as his eyes widened at the answer and he let out a small "Huh?" in question.

"I asked what movies you liked?" Sonic said waiting patiently for the other's answer.

"Oh! Uh. I- uh- I don't know? Why?" Tails answered looking at the Hedgehog in front in slight confusion.

"Because I want to set up a movie night, of course!" Sonic replied with a smile, before frowning a bit, " What do you mean that you don't know? Who does then?"

"Uh... I don't know... no one?" At this point Tails looked as if he wanted to be anywhere, but there- which he did feel indeed.

"How do you not know what movie you like?" Sonic said, confusion seeping through his voice.

"I never- um... I never got to watch a movie before... but- uh- I don't mind watching whatever movie you like!" Tails said, finishing with a small smile.

Sonic frowned. Of course. That village didn't want to give the kit a place to sleep, nor something to eat. Of course they wouldn't give him the 'luxury' of watching a simple movie.

At that same though, Sonic wanted more than anything to speed back to the village and make all the people who made the cute, tiny fox's life living hell pay.

But he new better than to do that. He was a hero, and making then pay is illegal by law, sadly. (That didn't remove his urge of revenge though)

Sonic shook his head and plastered a smile on his face.

"Well that won't do!" He exclaimed, reaching out and throwing the young kit over his shoulder. The said kit gave out a scared squeak in reply (to which Sonic thought was adorable!).

"What are you doing?!" Tails asked kicking slightly at Sonic's chest, at the displeasure of being carried.

The Hedgehog in question only spared a wink. "You'll see!"

When the two reached the living room (which didn't take long at all of course), Sonic dropped Tails on the couch, and rushed to bring supplies.

Not even a minute later, Tails found himself buried under a bunch of blankets and pillows, and the console table beside the couch was filled with chips and other junk.

Looking up at the Hedgehog smiling on top of him, Tails sent him a confused look, which was only replied by a wink from the other.

Sonic then flopped down beside Tails, placing a pillow behind him, before freeing Tails from the pile of blankets on top of him, and pulling Tails into his lap. He then covered the two of them in the blankets.

Tails looked up at his elder brother in confusion once more, opening his mouth to ask what was going on only to find that Sonic has put a finger on his mouth in a silencing manner.

"Get ready for your first movie night, little buddy!" Sonic said turning on the television and searching for a movie. "What?" Tails asked only to find one of Sonics fingers poking at him, and put back in a shushing manner on his lips. "Really, Tails? Hasn't anyone ever told you to not talk on a movie night?"

Tails eyes sprung up to live as he finally processed what the Hedgehog meant. He was going to watch his first movie...

"How about this movie?" Sonic said pointing at the screen with the remote.

Tails looked and saw the words Zootopia on the screen.

"Um, sure... if you want to?" Tails said hesitantly, not wanting to make the older one watch something he doesn't like.

"Good! I haven't watched this either, you know? Heard its a kids classic, though!" Sonic said pressing play.

"Hey! I'm not a kid!" Tails complained, only to find a finger back at his mouth and to heara quick "shush!" from Sonic.

Tails huffed slightly, however turned his attention to the screen filled with colours.

By the end of the movie the two layed asleep draping on each other, as the ending credits went on.

To Tails, the movie was amazing and magical. He has never seen anything like it (quit literally) and adored the way the animation was displayed. The movie was currently the fox's favorite (and only) movie he ever watched.

To Sonic, on the other hand, the movie was boring as hell, only watching it throughly due to Tails liking of the movie. That doesn't mean that he didn't complain nor question the things that happened in the movie.

("They are wearing clothes! Look! They are wearing clothes! Look at him! He's wearing pants! How is he alive?!")

Overall, the movie night was a success as the two snored softly, snuggling to each other. There was no doubt that this wouldn't be the first time...

#miles tails prower #sonic & tails #sonic and tails #wholesome sonic and tails wednesday #tails the fox #sonic the hedgehog #sonic

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shychick-52 · 7 months

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Fanfic - Fenro Week 2023

Here is my contribution for Day 2 (Family, Healing/Beginnings, Future) of @fenroweek2023.

It is a direct sequel to my story from last year's Fenro Week, Thank You, taking place immediately where that left off. Doesn't yet have a title XD

Gizmoduck didn’t have the strength in him to rise or open his eyes, let alone continue to fight. Both he and the armor fared poorly after his battle with 2-BO. He didn’t think either of them would survive another attack.

Out of all the opponents he faced, the little robot boy proved his most formidable and dangerous.

As Gizmoduck lay on the pavement in the damaged suit, vulnerable without his helmet- which had been discarded by 2-BO, now cracked and useless beside him (fortunately, Inspector Tezuka had managed to temporarily taser him before he could harm his exposed head or face)- he could feel 2-BO’s shadow suddenly creep over him, blocking out the sun as he loomed high, poised to strike the finishing blow.

No. It can’t end like this. M’ma… Huey… Gyro… all my friends. I’m sorry. I failed everybody.

But then something else moved in directly above him. A voice. Gyro’s voice… unusually earnest and pleading.

“2-BO! You are not evil! You are good!”

To Fenton’s absolute horror, the sound of 2-BO’s rocket thrusters became increasingly audible. He forced open his eyes-

Gyro boldly stood on the hovering platform that had been occupied by Akita only moments ago, standing between the fallen hero and 2-BO, the latter swooping down like a bird of prey upon his victim. And with 2-BO, Fenton’s heart also plummeted.

A million things exploded through his mind at once.

G-Gyro? You…? NO! What are you doing? You’ll be killed!

Blathering blatherskite, I’ve never felt more useless! He willed everything he had to get up and get Gyro out of there, but to no avail.

What even made him change his mind about 2-BO? And I’ve never heard him sound like that before!

He’s… risking his life to s-save me…?

“You’re more than your programming!” Gyro continued to cry out in a desperate bid to get through to his invention, with even more emotion.

Fenton was barely aware of Huey’s presence, tightly gripping the right shoulder of the Gizmoduck armor as he likewise observed the terrifying turn of events.

And yet, an ounce of hope remained. A tiny spark, awaiting the perseverant fanning into a flame.

“Come on, Boyd,” Huey whispered, confirming he felt it too.

Gyro… 2-BO…

The remaining seconds ticked by as if in slow-motion, with no change, almost tauntingly. Fenton was just about to yell out to Gyro to get out of the way, to save himself, when his lanky mentor yelled, voice hitching, “YOU ARE A DEFINITELY. REAL. BOY!”

2-BO dove straight for Gyro’s outstretched arms-

A collective gasp burst out of Fenton, Huey, and also Tezuka, where she held the handcuffed Akita.

-And smashed into him with his ready fist.

The horrified, pained screeches of the little audience seemed to rock the street, a sonic-boom briefly shooting along the wind before it altogether dropped (leaving behind the remnants of an echo), just like-

“GYRO!”

“NO!”

The platform descended, presenting them with the crumpled, bloody form of their friend.

2-BO, meanwhile, was nowhere in sight. He had apparently blasted off elsewhere. But even though the rest of the city was doomed, all Fenton could think about was Gyro.

“Dr. Gearloose?” Huey wept, kneeling over him.

He carefully examined his vitals, before hoarsely exclaiming “He’s- he’s g-gone!”

The ever-loyal Lil Bulb slowly emerged from the inside pocket of Gyro’s vest, collapsing on his inventor’s unmoving chest in a pool of crimson. Half his bulb was completely cracked, broken, exposing the dented filament. His limbs were a mangled mess, right leg and left arm uselessly dangling by thread-like wiring. A slow, disjointed series of buzzes and whirrrrs rose.

Fenton wrestled his way out of the armor, crawling to Gyro’s side. “Oh, Dr. Gearloose… Gyro. I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry,” he whispered, shaking with the fervency of his own sobs, which surpassed even Huey’s. He gingerly cradled his upper body to him, stroking his matted, stained feathers. He looked so small in Fenton’s lap, and his glasses and hat were lost, making him look twice as vulnerable.

With Akita safely locked in the Inspector’s car, she too approached the scene. Her countenance was a mix of grim, furious, and forlorn as she removed her hat, eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched.

Every one of Gyro’s organs and ribs had to be shattered. As it was, both arms were bent and twisted in gruesomely unnatural positions. And only then did Fenton catch the edge of naked bone stabbing clean through the right elbow.

Fighting the mounting tsunami of nausea, he quickly ordered Huey not to look.

It didn’t deter Fenton from his unexplainable burning need to hold Gyro close as though he might never let go, to protect him. An unstoppable torrent of hot, thick tears gushed down his face, splashing onto Gyro’s.

He was overcome with the most disconcerting sensation of detachment from reality, from time, from his own body, leaving him wracked with the agony of a gaping, hollowed-out cavity in his own chest where a crushing heaviness took residence.

Minutes later, the reverberating blast of plasma fire in their direct vicinity was all but lost on Fenton like background din.

What immediately followed without a beat- Gyro disintegrating into literal nothingness- was not.

The windows to Fenton’s soul snapped, stretched to their capacity. He could see his own tears being flung away, tiny crystal-like fragments, again in almost slow-motion. It was a wonder his mind was in any condition to process this unspeakable new development. A raw, unearthly scream wrenched from his throat as he stared at the empty space in his arms where he could still perfectly see Gyro.

He forced himself to face the direction of the onslaught. The Moonlander general stood mere feet away, smoking blaster in hand. He wore a smile colder than any new Ice Age he once tried to usher in over Earth.

“That one,” Lunaris said, “was not a clone.”

The laughter of Akita sounded in the distance, high and cruel.

***

Fenton gave a violent jolt, unceremoniously dumped into a strange new realm of awareness.

He choked harsh, frenzied gulps of breath in and out as he hugged himself in practically a death-grip. His sights erratically pinballed.

Finally, his focus returned, allowing him to calm down and retrieve his bearings. He was on the Sunchaser/Cloudslayer (piloted by Lil Bulb) with Gyro, Huey, and 2-B- Boyd, bound for home after their adventure in Tokyolk.

An adventure that resulted in Gyro confronting his and Boyd’s connected pasts, learning the incredible truth behind them, confronting his cruel old mentor, emotionally reconciling and embracing his long-lost ‘child’- not his greatest failure after all, but rather his greatest achievement- and acknowledging and promoting Fenton (even though his new status was only honorary, since he hadn’t earned his doctorate yet, the gesture from Gyro was genuine and meant the world to Fenton). And it looked like- at least, Fenton dearly hoped- the beginning of a real friendship between him and Gyro.

Fenton made his gaze deeply drink in the sight of his friends, including Boyd. Gyro was safe, and all of them were still sound asleep. Gyro sat to the right of him, followed by Boyd, then Huey.

But his chance to sink into a much-needed sigh of relief was short-lived. To his alarm, Gyro began to release loud, broken whimpers; writhing, his entire face contorted in agony.

“Gyro?” Fenton whispered, tentatively touching his shoulder. Should he wake him or leave him be? His first instinct was the former, but at the same time, he wasn’t sure if being suddenly woken would be a shock to his system in the state he was already in.

Only three undecided seconds went by when Gyro’s nightmare spat him out first, gasping and trembling like Fenton had.

“Dr. Gearloose!” Keeping his voice low, Fenton gently pulled Gyro against him, cocooning him in a protective embrace that reminded him of the dream. He rubbed circles against his back, fleetingly wondering if he would think Fenton was taking advantage of his grudging acceptance of being hugged earlier (he did say it was a “just-for-today thing”, but still).

Finally, he could feel Gyro’s heart- pressed against his own- begin to slow down, resuming a normal rhythm, his breaths coming in like the softening laps of the tide after a great wave.

“Are you all right?” Fenton asked. He eased himself off Gyro, still tightly watching him.

And that’s when he saw the tears staining Gyro’s face. How hadn’t he noticed them right away? And that’s when he saw the tears staining Gyro’s face, glistening in a patch of moonlight. How hadn’t he noticed them right away? The fresh remainder pooled in the corners of Gyro's eyes, before escaping and chasing each other down.

But that wasn’t the most surprising thing. It was the way Gyro stared right back at him in what could only be described as a cocktail of leftover terror and sheer relief. Though not exactly the kind of relief one normally feels at realizing what they experienced was just a dream, because his gaze was distinctly focused. There was something more there.

Gyro exhaled tremulously, pressing his fingers against his temple.

“Dr. Gearloose? I don’t mean to pry, but do you want to talk about it? I don’t know what you dreamt about, but I think I understand how you’re feeling right now. Believe it or not, I just had a nightmare myself.”

“…You did?” Gyro quietly asked with a slight frown. It was difficult to read his reaction. Curious? Surprised? Concerned…?

Fenton nodded. “It was the most realistic, terrifying one I’ve ever had, and I’ve had some pretty intense ones. Anyway, I’m sorry, Dr. Gearloose- I don’t mean to make it all about me. But I understand if you don’t want to-”

“Do… um, you want to talk about it?”

He couldn’t believe it. Gyro was offering to listen? And what was more, he sounded genuine. This was the man who had little patience for simple conversation! When he gave Fenton his promotion, he told him that he was going to treat him with respect and support from now on, but he wasn’t expecting such a milestone so soon.

Fenton was touched. In his already emotional state, it was difficult to keep from crying.

But… was he comfortable sharing this nightmare with Gyro- would Gyro even be comfortable hearing about it- since it concerned him, not to mention its intensity?

“You don’t have to, of course,” Gyro added a touch awkwardly, seeing his hesitation, “but I-”

“It was about you.”

An incoherent noise of disbelief tumbled out of the other scientist.

After a quick glance at the still sleeping kids (as Boyd’s sleep-mode worked similarly to a person’s, he could be awakened by external stimuli), Fenton told Gyro everything. Once he started, he found the words just poured out, unable to stop even if he really wanted to.

Including describing what his death did to him.

Only when he nearly finished did he realize Gyro looked like a course of electricity had coursed through his veins and left him stunned.

Fenton concluded, biting his lip, “I truly felt like nothing would ever be ok again.”

“I- but- you-” whispered Gyro.

“Gyro?”

“I… had the same dream, minus the Moonlander. Only, you were the one 2-B- I mean, Boyd attacked. I was too late to move in, it all happened so fast. One minute, I spotted you injured on the ground from your fight with him, then-”

He swallowed, paling. “It was- it was the most- I was too blathering late! I always knew I should have gone above Scrooge’s head and scrapped the armor a long time ago, or even refused to make the new model for you in the first place! If you hadn’t stolen the original- if I’d never even developed Project Blatherskite- you would’ve still been alive! Do you have any idea how difficult it was finding you unconscious in the old prototype armor before I fired you for being a reckless danger to yourself and others? Or what it was like when I heard you were hospitalized after your temporary gig as Waddleduck, you noble, self-sacrificing idiot? Or every single time you have to leave the lab to go Gizmoducking and I’m left wondering if you’re going to return in one piece, or at all?”

Gyro…

Gyro breathed heavily. “I always knew Gizmoduck would end in another 'Tokyolk incident', only it wasn’t only my reputation I was terrified of losing all over again,” he said. Some of the vehemency of his tirade had dissipated, but the earnestness remained. “I was so conflicted about how much like my former self you w- are.”

Fenton caught how he hastily corrected himself there, as though he still had one foot stuck in the dream.

“I liked and hated that. I… I know it’s no excuse, but maybe part of the reason I was so tough on you was because- well, as cliché as it sounds, I truly always did believe in you both as a scientist and a hero- but also because, at the same time, I wanted to squash that naivete and bright-eyed over-optimism before it ended up destroying you like it did to me or literally. And it isn’t easy for me to admit, but I was wrong, Dr. Inter- Fenton. The truth is,” he murmured, “I never saw just how much I cared about you until the minute I spotted you helpless on the ground today, about to be attacked by poor, corrupted Boyd.”

That was exactly what gave Fenton the same revelation before he and Gyro fell asleep earlier. But to hear Gyro actually tell him that...

“You risked your life to save me,” Fenton said for the second time since they'd been on the plane back home. He gave his shoulder a firm squeeze. “I really won't ever forget that. And I care about you too, Gyro, very much." Maybe it was redundant to say so after already explaining the impact his own dream had on him, but it seemed necessary.

The ghost of a smile crossed Gyro’s face.

“You know,” said Fenton thoughtfully, “I’ve always considered you, me, Lil Bulb, Manny, even Huey- and now Boyd- a family. Team Science. And after everything that’s happened today, I can safely say I feel that way even more strongly.”

“I can live with that,” Gyro replied, the smile returning in the form of a good-natured smirk as he rolled his eyes. “And we all may be misfits, but, well, you’re my misfits.”

#fenro week 2023 #fenro #gyro gearloose #fenton crackshell cabrera #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #fanfic

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lubelzoldyck-artworks · 6 months

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📍📍📍NEEDLE DAY📍📍📍

Full artwork and ramblings under the cut 🌸

[pov you are Hisoka and it's Illumi's birthday]

HELLO HELLO, I just finished this piece in honor of the Illumi Day, aka 11/11, a very popular headcanon birth date for Illumi 🌸 Illumi Day was a suggestion from the amazing @bungeepuppet and I am happy to contribute to this tiny event! Even if I am late, but uh, I suppose it became usual from me 🥲 I could have finished it earlier, but a close friend was celebrating his own birthday and I couldn't just be an ass and tell him Well sorry dude but I have this fanart that isn't even a commission to finish 😶

I drew the sketch for this fanart in september, when I noticed my headcanon birthday for Illumi (9/9). I was pretty sad to have missed it, and motivation to actually draw has been rather scarce since a few months. I wished to finish though, but I couldn't. But then I heard about the 11/11 heacanon, which I think is a brilliant idea, and I simply knew it was the perfect occasion to finish this piece!

I wanted to draw something among the lines of Hisoka gifting him something for his birthday. Since I wanted to draw Illumi in lingerie (again), I ended up drawing him in a lingerie and harness ensemble. I thought it funny for said harness to be pink because it's kind of Hisoka's color and, well, it might ce off a but weird to gift someone something /you/ like (but it sounds in character for Hisoka to do something like that 😂). But Illumi loves it. Maybe he just really loves harnesses. Maybe wearing it gives him the feeling of having Hisoka close to him. He would never admit it though.

I don't think Illumi cares about birthdays, even less if it's his own. When he was very young Silva and Kikyo probably offered him stuff but he was taught soon enough to stop caring about stuff that are simply futile and unimportant in an assassin's life. But maybe he might just start to do little celebrations again, thanks to Hisoka, the worst person ever but maybe the best thing that ever happened to him. 🥺

That Hisoka plushie thing has been made by Illumi and it's just a silly little idea of mine. Hisoka probably sweats nervously noticing it and the several needles planted in a very specific location... probably wondered for a second if Illumi cursed him or something, but, nah. Illumi's ability don't work that way and we all know the clown is just a horny mess 👁👁

Oh also uh I wanted to save a textless version but I forgor,,,

Might just do a continuation to this scene one day. 👀

If you appreciate my work please contribute to my visibility by reblogging this post 🌸 likes and reactions are also very appreciated ✨️

I am open for commissions 💕

[Written transcription:

Illumi: I still think birthday celebrations are pointless... But your gift is acceptable. You better make me scream.

(He actually Loves that gift.)

Hisoka: Oooh Illumi... Is that a threat? ♡

"Harness gifted by Hisoka" arrow pointed at Illumi]

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zeldurz · 9 months

Note

Being a house cat means a lot of time to ponder. I am familiar with your fic as it relates to Pellaeon/Thrawn, henceforth, referred to as Prawn. Lately, I have noticed that you have shifted away from this pairing into unfamiliar territory for me, mainly Firmus Piett/Maximilian Veers & Tiaan Jerjerrod/Conan Antonio Motti. Since I am firmly ensconced in my tiny corner of the fandom, I had to ask around, who are these guys?

Now it’s time to ask you. Welcome to my little corner at the Asker’s Studio™️ (don’t mind the ferocious Mini-Panther🐈‍⬛)

Where I go in the fandoms is determined by where ‘my’ authors go, thus, I often find myself in unfamiliar territory. I got my start with Harry Potter, moved on to Gargoyles, enjoyed a long visit with Thrawn, and currently I happily reside in TNG. As person who merely comments, it’s easy to jump around, but as an author, I would think that it would be more complicated.

What made you decide to branch out to these new pairings/fandom? While they are still Star Wars, I view them far enough away from Thrawn to consider them a different fandom (as it is an enormous departure from the Thrawn universe to the Original Trilogy)

I admit that my only knowledge of your new pairings (newer to your fic) is what Wookeepedia tells me, and what more experienced fandom inhabitants add to that. It makes me want to go back to the OT and watch it through a different lens.

What is it that you would want new readers to know about these ancillary characters?

What characteristics do you admire or dislike about them?

Do you see any parallels to characters that you have written about in the past?

I am behind on my Fic reading, but know that I have been enormously entertained by your Whatever it Takes, and I hope to see additional updates sometime in the near future.

Ahhh thank you for having me back on Asker’s Studio, it’s always a pleasure to be here. I will put this under a cut to make everyone's life a little bit easier

I have indeed shifted my preferences into the adjacent world of OT Imperials, at least for the moment. While I can firmly say that this is all the wonderful @alexx-dax’s fault – since I started following him on tumblr and was left with many similar questions to those you have posed to me: who are these men? How can I tell them apart? Why should I even care? – the question of “why” still remains, and for that, my answer is two-fold.

I would say that the jump from Thrawn to the OT Imps is not as far as it looks on the surface – much of the internal politics and settings aboard a Star Destroyer in Thrawn’s time (be it in Canon before the Battle at Lothal or in Legends aboard the Chimaera) remain the same. This makes it both easier to write (as I already have an idea of The Empire and how it operates) and easier to integrate characters that are still very near and dear to my heart – in fact, while I have yet to make full use of it in a fic, the fact that Grand Admiral Thrawn was the one that recommended a then Corporal Veers to Darth Vader for his Death Squadron has a lot of room for potential. I also think it helps that the Imps have a much less wide-reaching fandom – there’s a very small, very enthusiastic community that has made me feel very welcome as I undertake my studies into Background Men, and I really appreciate that.

Without going into too much detail, I would also be remiss if I did not touch on the issue of Writer Burnout and how that has contributed to my step away from writing Thrawn. I have the curse of non-functioning executives (aka ADHD/autism), and writing something that isn’t the topic du jour is a painful and tedious process for me (astute readers will also recognize this is why I rarely do outlines/planning and why I almost never edit/proofread my fics before posting them). For every fic that reaches AO3, there are 8-10 more that are half finished on my google drive, and I tend to lose creative steam on things very, very quickly. Between a bunch of stuff IRL and the rise of people discussing Thrawn and his characterization in fandom spaces(1), I’m having a very hard time getting my ‘voice’ for Thrawn back (it doesn’t help that my largest and most popular fic has spiraled into something much, much larger than I had originally planned, and I’m very much struggling to figure out how to tie it off in a satisfying way lol).

But back to these new guys. Who are they and why should you care?

First of all, if you wish to join me in my corner with my dolls, I would actually recommend watching the OT again but considering the perspectives of the Imps – in particular, Ken Colley’s portrayal of Piett in Empire Strikes back and Michael Pennington’s Jerjerrod in Return of the Jedi(2) give a lot of depth to the characters that we often just see as “bad guy henchmen”. People have written many things about these characters over the years (some of which I agree with and some of which I do not), but I always come back to Piett’s expression as he watches Admiral Ozzel choke to death beside him; these characters are Imperials, yes, but they are not all Tarkin or Palpatine – that is, they are not simply evil for the sake of being evil. Veteran Thrawn fans will know that writing from the perspective of the antagonists can be a lot of fun – and for my brand of fic (ie the hurt/comfort), there are a lot of Rebel Victories that bring pain that’s worth exploring (not unlike Bilbringi in the HTTE Trilogy).

I have spoken a lot about the Imperials as a collective, so now it’s time to get into the individuals. While I will touch a little bit on my favourite ships (Piett/Veers and Motti/Jerjerrod), I think that another fun part about writing these particular characters is that they work well in many different pairings, depending on the vibe you’re going for (I will spare you the chart, but I do have one). Anyway, without further ado and in no particular order, the incomplete summary of Imps:

Firmus Piett (ESB, ROTJ):

Piett is the character that got me hooked on the imperials in the first place – his “goddammit I’m just trying to do my job and not get murdered” energy combined with his otherness (in that unlike most other high-ranking officers, he is neither from a core world nor upper class). His days fighting in the Axxilian anti-pirate fleet only add to this vibe, and much of his characterization (that I go off of, anyway) centers around him being scrappy and resourceful – useful where other, snobbier officers might not be.

As with all things Fanfiction and particularly with the Imperials (as there is comparatively little material to work with), there will always be flavours of characters depending on who is writing them, but I enjoy Piett’s potential for a found family, along with his biting snark and ability to survive only on caf and spite.

Maximilian Veers (ESB):

Veers has the distinction of being in the Imperial Army, rather than the Navy, which automatically gives him a different flavour than the others. It’s my understanding that there’s a rivalry between the Army and the Navy, which lends itself well to a back and forth banter that is easily one of my favourite things in an Imp fic. Veers is also the strong and stoic character – he’s not intimidated by Vader, and he’s going to do his damn job, no matter what.

I’m a big sap for the “hard on the outside soft on the inside” trope, and Veers is perfect for this. He protects his Herd with a fierce loyalty, and is a proven competent leader, but he’s also the sort of guy who teases his partner and loves physical affection. Veers is a giant, blond puppy, and I love that about him. His vibe works especially well with Piett, since they have the whole "tol and smol"/Army-Navy/slowly opening up to one another vibe that I love.

Tiaan Jerjerrod (ROTJ):

Listed as a “cold technocrat” on every official description, Tiaan is another one of those characters that has many layers to him. He is the rich snob from the core, but he’s also an extremely competent engineer who was hand picked to handle some of the Empire’s biggest projects. He’s also comparatively young (a full fifteen years younger than Pellaeon, and ten years younger than Veers, if Wookieepedia is to be believed), and yet has made his way to the top of the top. Tiaan also has the distinction that (at least in the deleted scenes) we see him hesitate – even when given an order, he is conflicted about firing the Death Star II at Endor, given the number of Imperials still on the moon.

Tiaan is usually characterized as being neurotic and anxious – a sort of wet-cat energy that contrasts well with the competence he is known for. His background – a rich aristocrat coming from a long line of decorated Naval Officers from a conservative planet – only adds to this effect, and I’m a big fan of stories that explore how he navigates (or doesn’t) the enormous pressures he faces.

Conan Antonio Motti (ANH):

Loud, Obnoxious, and American, Motti stands out among the Joint Chiefs in the one scene he is in. He has the balls to challenge Vader, and the gusto to back it up – he’s also quite young, having risen to be commander of the DS-I in his early 30s (based on his actor’s age, Wookieepedia does not have a birthday for him). While there are scant few other canon appearances for him, it’s also worth noting that one of them is him writing a letter to HR regarding Vader’s Force Choke, and another is a passage from the Death Star Novel about how he works out in only a speed-strap juggling balls in heavy gravity.

Motti can be summed up as the “Go Big or Go Home” guy who is crass, loud, and gets in everyone’s face. He can be a lot of fun to read and write because he’s so obnoxious, and that makes him fun to include even if the story is primarily about someone else. He pairs well with Jerjerrod because they have similar backstories (young, wealthy) but wildly different personalities, although I have been enjoying the Motti-Thrawn friendship lately (that would give Pellaeon a migraine)

Overall, each of these characters (and Captain Lorth Needa, of course, everyone’s favourite Dad Friend and holder of the single brain cell) has a unique vibe that they bring to the table, and it’s fun to see how they interact with both each other and the Situations they find themselves in. I also find them to be very relatable – every author pours a little bit of their heart and soul into the characters they write, but for me personally, there is a lot I can draw from my own experiences (not unlike how I have written a very few very personal Thrawn fics).

With that being said, I do struggle sometimes to hit the right notes and strike a balance between “canon”, “fanon” and the story I want to tell. While Thrawn has (for the most part) been consistently written and it is easy enough to see a through-line for his story, that is absolutely not the case here. There are many examples I could speak to (Needa as “ruthless”, Veers refusing prosthetics due to stigma or Jerjerrod “loving war”), but for the sake of brevity I will only touch on one: Piett as a schemer who sought to deliberately have Ozzel killed.

While this is… an interpretation of the source material (IE Empire Strikes Back) and has since been made canon by From Another Point of View, it disregards the intentions of Ken Colley in playing the character. He wanted Piett to come off as more relatable to the audience, to give depth to the Empire as more than just a faceless monolith, and I would argue that he is quite successful in doing so(3). Undermining this (and his backstory notes about being an underdog within the Empire) take away some of the aspects of his character that I really enjoy – but does it make my Piett OOC if he wouldn’t do something like that? Does it matter?

Anyway almost two thousand words and three footnotes, it’s very much time for me to wrap this up (as bad as I am at writing endings). Suffice it to say that I find the Imps to be an excellent sandbox with which to play in, and I appreciate both the time you’ve taken to ask me about them and the time it’s taken to read through this essay of sorts.

I’m hoping I’ll get back to Whatever it Takes sooner or later, but I would rather wait for inspiration to strike me than to keep beating my head against a metaphorical wall until an ending falls out. Until next time, thank you again for the ask and all the wonderful comments you have left for me 😊

(1)I should note that this isn’t targeted at any group in particular and isn’t meant to be a negative statement – just that the Thrawn fandom continues to grow, and with the upcoming Ashoka Show, there are a lot of people with a lot of different opinions about the character, and for someone who isn’t particularly adept at navigating the sea of fandom, it can be extremely overwhelming.

(2)If you are able to watch the deleted scenes from ROTJ, that’s even better – there are some excellent Jerjerrod scenes that did not make the final cut

(3)I do own two Piett action figures and haven’t read Another Point of View yet, so I could be a little bit biased

#my inbox

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zmediaoutlet · 6 months

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twenty questions for fic writers

tagged to do the do by @prince-of-elsinore, ty ty for thinking of me

How many works do you have on ao3?

211 (and elsewhere, maybe a dozen we don't talk about, bc they suck, on livejournal; maybe a couple dozen short pieces here on tumblr that have never migrated to ao3)

What's your total ao3 word count?

1,515,103

What fandoms do you write for?

Almost all Supernatural, but also some video game fandoms (FF, DA, maybe BG3 soon), MCU, etc. usual suspects.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. oh so good, oh so fine -- 993 kudos 2. there will be better days -- 846 kudos 3. see things so much clearer -- 621 kudos 4. into the flood again -- 602 kudos 5. side two, track one -- 558 kudos maybe someday we'll break 1000, lol

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Absolutely I do, and would find it rude not to. I know other people have all kinds of reasons they don't respond but I don't have any of those reasons, especially since I'm pathetically grateful every time someone bothers to say they liked something, lol. If anyone's even a tiny bit encouraged to become a repeat reader by the writer responding, I want to encourage that as much as possible. Plus, every once in a while, you can get a dece conversation going in the comments! Find a like-minded fan! That's worth any effort to compose a few sentences of thanks. The only comments I don't respond to are emoji strings or cut-and-paste 'another kudos here' comments, because they're not actually comments. (I appreciate the thought, but... I don't want them.)

What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I have had some beta friends who would argue about this one, lol. I guess the saddest is probably the hollow summer, since the whole plot is kind of hurt/no comfort. I don't believe in a successful boy king, let's say that.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

again, probably depends on how you define 'happy'. glory days is probably the most cheerful; for me, the happy comes better with more experience behind it, so the thirty-third yard would maybe be my personal choice.

Do you get hate on fics?

nope; worst I ever got was some twerp who actually responded to someone else's comment, bitching that I didn't put the right peepee in the right poopyhole. But only one of those, ever, and safely ignored. idk, I don't attract that much.

Do you write smut?

...yes.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

only one, and it only sort of counts -- i heard love was blind, which is Cordell Walker/Dean Winchester, but of course the point is that Dean's getting the body of his brother by other means. I like crossovers but I usually want there to be a point beyond 'let's mash these two faves together and see what happens'; I'm more inclined toward doing a whole-universe fusion, e.g. fully placing characters with what you can salvage of their key backstory elements into a universe not their own... which I guess would also count as a crossover, wouldn't it. so I also did that with putting the Winchesters into the Dragon Age 2 plot, in whatever we were before. definitely 'crazier' than the first one here, lol.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I think that's the kind of thing that happens on WattPad. Who cares.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes, a few.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I tried; it didn't work. Both people need to be contributing to the writing for it to really count as 'co-written'; nevertheless it's stuck with both author names on ao3 because I don't think there's a way to change that.

What's your all-time favorite ship?

I think from context this should be clear. Although will also forever hold many small candles for the little guys.

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

the aforementioned "co-written" fic, which was meant to be a huge series. The first fic is finished because I brute-forced my way through it, but there was a full five-season arc we were going to try to get through. Alas. The first one is decent, though, and works as a complete fic on its own: In a Cursed Hour.

What are your writing strengths?

voice, pacing, naturalism; characterization, though that can be argued in a fan-space

What are your writing weaknesses?

plot -- I find it intensely boring. Avoidance of plot then tends to flatten stories into similar non-arcs; I don't mind that, but it's a skill to exercise.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I'll only do Spanish, and that's only because I studied it for eight years. Even then it's usually the wrong choice, unless it's a fully blended multilingual story (which most are not, and in the wrong hands it comes off as absurd); better to convey through the POV character either understanding it or not, and dealing with it in narrative instead of straight dialogue. Although a word or two here or there is nbd, clearly.

First fandom you wrote for?

Final Fantasy VIII

Favorite fic you've written?

well, questions, you got me, because I don't believe in favorites. at this moment in terms of writing skill I think the best might be asceticism, but in terms of one that sits in my head and fully just is canon, lol, it might be there will be better days, mentioned above. the only heaven fic I need. I guess that says something.

kind of interesting to look at the stats, if also stressful. let's get some other writers to be interested/stressed -- uhh @redmyeyes, @phynali, @hellhoundsprey, @stillwaterseas, @whiskeycherrypie

some shots in the dark :)

#i kinda like this small text thing #i mean i need to get out my old lady readers but #keeps it tidy #writing meme

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ellraiser · 4 months

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2023 In Review

2023 is almost at an end, and it’s been a busy ol’ year looking back! Here’s a lil ellraiser/TNgineer wrapped...

Started the year off strong dropping a demo for Rift Breach, an experimental lil dungeon crawler that was fun to make, helped me get better at scoping small, and got my out of my usual pixel art comfort zone!

Then @FletchMakes hosted a 7 day game jam + I couldn’t resist making the "APICO but frogs" I’d always joked about.

Mudborne was born(e) + I was overwhelmed with how much people loved it. It also show me just how much I can get done with a super strict scope and detailed plan

APICO had it’s 1st birthday! From a silly concept made in HTML to now published on all platforms with over 50,000 beekeepers playing - truly never thought it would go anywhere

I’m forever grateful to everyone who’s played and shared this funky bee game

At this point trying to keep up with socials for 3 different games was getting far too much and I needed help - enter @mibyledraws who joined as the first official TNgineer!

Thank you for all your hard work, wonderful videos, and helping me keep on top of everything <3

I released the 2nd free content update for APICO, ‘What Lies Beeneath”, with all sorts of weird and wonderful ocean friends.

It’s been tough to keep working on this mess of a game, but it’s worth it to see how much people have been enjoying all the new content

Decided that I wanted to take the Mudborne concept into a full-game, and started planning out everything along with a new art style and vibe for it (there’s only so far a sprite-rip of APICO can go lmao)

It’s wild to see how far I’ve started to come from tiny rectangle trees!

Towards the end of the year I quit my freelance contract and went full-time gamedev officially, not quite by choice but it was something I wanted to do for a while

I’ll now be able to spend all my time working on the games, as well as all the other little concepts I’ve had bubbling away in the back of my mind...

I moved from GameMaker to LÖVE, built a small framework for future games like Snacktorio + Mudborne, and contributed to the engine itself

Was the first time actually helping making a substantial contribution to an open-source project and I learnt a lot!

After a couple years in and out of development and a last minute engine change to LÖVE, I finally finished and released the demo for Snacktorio.

We’ve had some amazing feedback and it’s been so gratifying to finally get it out and see people enjoy it and confirm it as a fun concept.

Looking ahead to 2024, it’ll be my first year as a full-time gamedev (as well as reaching lvl 30!)

I’m planning to release the final update for APICO, as well as releasing either Mudborne or Snacktorio - might even have to drop some new demos too, as a treat…

Thanks for everyone who has supported me and TNgineers throughout the year.

Whether that was playing the demos, buying the games, sharing your progress, joining the discord, posting wholesome reviews, sending me cute bee pics - I'm truly grateful to you all <3

#it really is wild to me just how much i managed to do this year #even while working as a contractor half the year #now that im full-time i should be able to smash out a lot of stuff I've not been able to get around to doing #once the final apico update is finished off the floodgates can open #tngineers #indie games #game development #year in review #indie developer #indie game dev #apico #mudborne #snacktorio #rift breach

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purplefangirl42 · 11 months

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Growing Worries

This piece is my first contribution for the 2023 Jedi June Event (@jedijune). I chose to go with the prompt of "Guidance" for the first week.

Tags: Jedi Appreciation, Sibling Love, Master & Padawan Bonding, Giving Advice, It Takes a Village, Slight Angst, Childhood Worries

“Alright, that’s enough for today. You are all free to go.”

Anaj opened her eyes as the Master instructing her meditation class called for the end of their session. She unfolded her legs and moved to stand, nearly losing her balance as the blood rushed back into her extremities. These meditation classes sometimes went on for hours and it had a tendency to make her lose sensation in her feet. Stretching her arms above her head, she sighed in relief as the feeling started to return.

I really need to work on stretching more. Maybe that will help.

She followed her fellow classmates out of the room into the hall, waving goodbye as she headed in the direction of the crèche. She had promised to spend some time with her brother, Seoj, when her class had finished so she made her way towards the quarters he shared with his other clan members.

When she reached the door, Anaj raised her hand to knock, but hesitated at the sound of sniffling coming from within. It sounded like someone was crying. Anaj could sense only one other person nearby, and would recognize the Force signature of her younger brother anywhere. Raising her hand once more, she lightly rapped her knuckles on the door.

“Seoj?” she called softly. “Is everything alright?”

The sound of soft footsteps approached the door before it slid open a tiny amount to reveal her brother. Being three years her junior, he was still shorter than her, so Anaj had to look down to see his face in the shadows of the room beyond the door. His small green face was damp from the tears that spilled from his large black eyes, dark lines appearing in their wake as they traveled downward.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

The ten year old boy wiped at his face with his hand, attempting to hide the evidence of his distress. Anaj felt her heart clench at the fact that he felt he had to hide his emotions from her. She reached out her purple hand in his direction, offering it to him to hold. After a moment’s hesitation, he took it and held it tightly in his own.

Ever since he had come to the temple and she had discovered that he was her brother, the two of them had always found comfort in each other’s presence, even if it was simply silent companionship. Just being there was enough to soothe the pain. Anaj could sense that her presence alone was not going to be enough this time, however.

“Seoj, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Seoj wiped his face again with his free hand before pressing the button to open his door further to allow her entrance. He pulled on her hand and Anaj entered the room before the door slid shut behind her. Pulling her over to his cot, Seoj sat down and Anaj followed him, never letting go of his hand. Another minute passed before he began to speak.

“Am I too small?” he asked, speaking so softly that Anaj almost didn’t hear him.

“Too small for what?”

Seoj shrugged and sniffled again.

“For everything…”

Anaj didn’t understand his question. Sure, he was shorter than some of the other younglings. But growth spurts hit different people of different species at varying times. She hadn’t grown a significant amount until she was eleven, when she rapidly grew several inches in a short period of time.

“You still have lots of time to grow, little brother,” she said, attempting to reassure him.

Seoj scoffed in response to her statement.

“Little. That’s what they all call me. Little, tiny, pathetic, weak…”

Anaj felt a surge of protective anger swell inside her at his words.

“Who is saying these things to you?”

Seoj shrugged again.

“People. I hear them whispering about me sometimes. I even heard one of the crèche masters say something about how they were concerned that I was small for my age.”

Anaj pursed her lips in annoyance. This wouldn’t do. Her brother should be having fun and learning new skills with the other younglings, not worrying about his size at such a young age. She reached over and patted the hand still clasped in hers.

“Try not to worry too much about it right now,” she said. “Why don’t we go do something to get your mind off of it. We should go have some dinner.”

Seoj’s sad expression morphed into one of disgust.

“You aren’t going to make me eat one of your concoctions are you?”

Anaj huffed in mock offense at his distaste for her alternate food choices. Despite what some people may think, she found them quite tasty. Given his state of mind, though, she chose to ignore his comment.

“You can eat whatever you want,” she said. “I won’t even ask you to try the new thing that Master Fisto gave me.”

Seoj visibly relaxed and the pair of them stood from the bed, walking out of the room together hand in hand. Though his spirits had lifted slightly at the mention of food, Anaj could tell that there were still negative feelings lurking beneath the surface. She made a mental note to think on her brother’s issue and attempt to find a solution.

A few days passed, and Anaj had not thought of anything that she felt would help lift Seoj’s melancholic mood. Thinking about the issue had left her distracted, causing her to not focus on her studies, even derailing her ability to meditate properly.

“Your mind is distracted, padawan,” Master Ti said from her place across from her.

Anaj opened one eye to see her master tilting her head quizzically as she stared at her.

“I’m sorry, Master. I will try harder to focus,” Anaj said, closing her eye to attempt the meditation again.

A gentle touch on her knee caused both of her eyes to open and focus on the Togrutan woman before her. Her master gave her a small smile and shook her head, causing her long lekku to sway from side to side.

“What is troubling you?” she asked.

Anaj sighed and thought about the best way to answer the question. She reached up and began to fiddle with the end of one of the tendrils that had slipped over her shoulder. The act soothed her anxiety and helped calm her mind, allowing the right words to come to her.

“I’m worried about Seoj.”

Master Ti nodded as if this was no surprise to her. As far as Anaj knew, she hadn’t mentioned anything to her master about the situation, but then again, it was a master’s job to know what was going on with their student.

“I have taught a few sessions for his clan, and I have noticed something was off during the last one,” Master Ti said. “Do you know what is troubling him?”

“He’s heard a few things said about him that have him worried. He’s worried that he is too small.”

“A strange concern for one so young,” Master Ti said. “He has plenty of time left to grow. If your recent change in height is anything to go off of, I’m sure he will grow into a tall, strong young man.”

“I know that, and I told him as much. I don’t think he listened though.”

“Perhaps it would be beneficial for him to hear it from someone other than his sister. As well-meaning as your intentions may be, they may be empty words to him at the moment.”

Anaj let out a heavy sigh and leaned her elbow on her knee, resting her face on her hand. Maybe her master was right, Seoj needed someone other than her to help him see a brighter future. She felt another gentle touch on her knee and looked up to meet her master’s gaze.

“You are a good sister and a good friend, Anaj. Never doubt that.”

Anaj gave her master a smile and nodded her thanks. Master Ti pulled her hand back and returned to her meditative pose.

“I will speak to someone about the matter. For now, how about we focus on our lesson?”

Seoj sat in the back of his class, his focus on something outside the large window beside him. He hadn’t gotten much out of the lesson so far, so he didn’t see much point in reigning in his attention now. Class was almost over anyway. After the instructor called for the class to disperse, a deep voice called his name.

“Seoj, may I have a moment of your time before you return to your quarters?”

Seoj turned to the source of the voice to find a large Lasat standing beside the doorway. He was unfamiliar with this Jedi, so he did not understand why he would want to speak with him. A shiver ran down his spine as he approached the large man, uneasiness creeping into every nerve in his body.

“Relax, young one,” the Lasat said, gesturing to a cushioned bench by a nearby window. “You are not in trouble. I merely wish to speak with you.”

Seoj sat down beside the man and stared up at him with large inquisitive eyes.

“I am Master Jaro Tapal,” the Lasat introduced himself. “I understand you have been dealing with some troubling concerns and I am here to help put your mind at ease.”

Seoj didn’t know how this Jedi he had never met or even seen before would know what was happening in his life, but he had an inkling that Anaj may be responsible.

“Did my sister say something to you?” he asked in a slightly annoyed tone.

“Master Ti mentioned that you seemed in some form of distress and asked the cause. Your sister only spoke up in her concern for you, not to embarrass you.”

Seoj let out a huff and crossed his arms over his chest. It was bad enough dealing with this himself, he didn’t need a bunch of people worrying about it with him.

“How old are you, Seoj?” Master Tapal asked.

“Ten.”

“Ah, so you are nearing the age where you might be considered as a padawan for an eager teacher. That is an exciting and nerve wracking time for any young Jedi, but that is not where your concern lies.”

Seoj shook his head and focused on his feet, not wanting to look at the man beside him.

“As I understand the situation, you are concerned about your size. You worry that you will not grow to be big and strong like you feel you should?”

When it was phrased like that, Seoj felt it sounded silly and a bit vain. The idea that he wouldn’t be like Master Fisto or even the Lasat beside him still nagged at him in the back of his mind, however.

“Do you think it is important that you are large?” the Lasat asked. “Is that what you think it takes to be a Jedi?”

Seoj shrugged and glanced sideways at the Master beside him. It seemed an odd question coming from someone that was so large himself.

“I guess I’m just worried that I won’t succeed like the others around me. I know I still have time to grow, but…”

“Even if you don’t grow to be very tall, you still have great potential.”

Seoj turned to look at him and he felt himself perk up a bit at the statement.

“You think so?”

“Master Yoda is not large, nor is my former master, Master Yaddle,” Tapal said. “Yet, they are both great Jedi Masters. Master Yoda is known for commenting that ‘size matters not’ when it comes to the skill a person possesses, Jedi or not.”

As Seoj listened to the counsel, he felt some of his worries melt away. The concern he felt due to the comments from the crèche masters lingered, but he figured he would deal with that problem if it ever presented itself.

“I wish to show you something that may lift your spirits,” Master Tapal said, pulling a small datapad from his belt. “Look at this image.”

Seoj leaned over to look at the picture on the screen. It showed a group of younglings in a class with Master Yoda. Not far from him stood a Nautolan boy and a Lasat he guessed was the man beside him. Neither one of them was very large beside the diminutive Grand Master.

“That is Master Fisto and myself. We were a bit younger than you, but as you can see, we hadn’t hit our growth spurts yet either.”

Seoj called to mind the way the Nautolan Jedi looked now. He was tall and strong. Nothing like the small boy in the photo. A smile began to form on his lips as the hope that things could change overtook him. He turned to look at Master Tapal and surged forward to wrap his arms around the man’s large torso.

“Thank you, Master Tapal,” he said, his voice muffled slightly by the Lasat’s robes.

A large hand patted him gently on the back and Tapal let out a huff of soft laughter.

“You’re most welcome, young one. Keep training and focus on your studies and you can become anything you wish, regardless of your size.”

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#jedi june #jedi appreciation #original characters #shaak ti #jaro tapal #jedi order #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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