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yuanology · 10 months

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geto suguru is willing to lose a lot of things, but he has never been willing to lose you. you're the one thing he can't afford to see leaving, the one person in his life he wishes he could have brought with him when he turned over to the new side.

but he didn't. you left, and he watched you leave.

still, it doesn't stop him from yearning for you—for your presence, for your touch, for the person you used to be to him. he never finds another lover after you, far too hung up on what you were to fall in love again. he tried sleeping around the first few months but ultimately gave up when he realized none of them will ever once compare to you.

so he stops trying. stops trying to get anyone but you because no substitute can satiate him the way you do.

and somehow, by some miracle, he gets you.

suguru is convinced that you must be doing it for the greater good—a mission assigned to him by yaga, most likely, telling you to infiltrate suguru's plans by using his old fondness for you against him. your approach must be part of a deliberate plan, one that has been planned and carefully measured throughout the years. suguru isn't a fool, he sees right through it.

unfortunately for yaga, however, he has underestimated the sheer extent of what he is willing to do for you. to give up information in hopes that you'll stay with him for the night is nothing compared to the numbers he would pile up just for you, to the worlds he would burn down to have a future with you by his side. everything you ask, he'll give as long as you stay with him just a bit longer, as long as you kiss him and hold him as if he still matters to you, as if he's still loved by you.

"good boy, suguru." there it is, the sound of his given name flowing smoothly off his tongue after so long. suguru moans at the sound alone, his body trembling. your breath fans against his nape, just above where your hand is pressing his face into the mattress. suguru's breath comes out in short, desperate pants as he leans into your touch, hips raised and ass in display just for you.

your fingers are buried deep inside him, the squelching sounds echoing through the room. he's rented out a room for tonight, a middle-ground in which business exchanges can run through smoothly. suguru glances to his left, where a massive mirror is propped up. through it, he can see the way you're holding him up, half your fist disappearing into his hole. you're still wearing most of your clothes, only your shirt having been unbuttoned all the way through and it's now hanging onto your frame. you look beautiful like this, you always have, and suguru can't breathe at the sight of you.

suguru himself looks like a cheap whore this way, naked in contrast to your mostly dressed state, his mouth hanging agape and his eyes glassy, hair a mess all over the mattress and his legs spread open without a care in the world. he doesn't care, though, because you called him a good boy. suguru can be your good boy all you want as long as you keep doing this to him, keep holding him and fucking into him like you care.

when you pull your fingers out, he whines so loud that you have to pepper soft kisses all over the expanse of his back, murmuring sweet nothings against his skin. it's irrational, he knows, but he's already halfway to being fucked out of his mind that he doesn't care. suguru will never have you the way he used to have you, whole and unburdened, but he has you now, he doesn't want to lose any more of you than he has to.

"please," he sobs. please don't leave me, he means.

feeling your hand on his hips, a gentle balm soothing the scalding hurt building in his chest, suguru lets out another ruined sound. "i know, sweetheart." you're so soft with him, so gentle in taking care of him, that suguru can close his eyes and pretend that you're still okay. "let me take care of you, okay? trust me."

"okay," he rasps out because there's no question in that. he lets his head fall onto the pillows, shoulders flexing to soothe the tension there as he slips into a relaxed state on the bed. he trusts you. he trusts you so much that he would let you do anything to him. "i trust you."

you're especially gentle with him this time around, he realizes once you're sloppily thrusting into him, the head of your cock always fucking against his prostate rather than teasing him with each fuck. you don't loiter, but you always linger. your hands wander all over his skin, keeping him close to you. you're draped over his back, heartbeat pounding against the skin on his back.

tomorrow morning, you will go back to being enemies. you'll leave at the first sign of dawn, carrying an envelope with you containing all of your pre-agreed information. suguru will have to allow himself losses so that he'll have more of you some night some weeks, maybe some months, from now. tomorrow, this will all end and you'll break his heart a thousand times over in exchange for all the times he has ruined you by leaving. tomorrow, geto suguru will lose you again.

but for now, he is in your arms, reaching high after high under your gentle ministrations, and geto suguru, for however long this moment can suspend for, is loved by you.

( and when he slips into unconsciousness at the end of the night, not forgetting to slur out a weak, thank you as he does, he swears he doesn't imagine the way you press your lips against his hairline; as tender as it used to be when he could still call himself yours. a ghost of a lover in this haunted room. )

#this literally has such minimal sex can i even call it smut atp #but it's geto suguru ...#dom reader #male reader #top male reader #sub geto suguru #sub jjk #sub character #geto suguru x reader #( thirsts. )

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bunny-yan · 17 days

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Hi! I'm a fan of your yan! Hero/reincarnated reader and I would like to ask if you could write a scenario where the reader has reincarnated again but this time instead of running away they just stay in the village, and in this life, Tasman doesn't end up searching for the reader because they haven't left the village. Because of this, the reader just stays in the village and just so happens to start a relationship with a kind farm boy.

So while Tasman is out marrying another mermaid/fairy queen/princess, the reader is just having the time of their life on a large farmhouse with their new lover. By the time Tasman finds out it's too late because he's already married and it would ruin his reputation if he ever decided to leave his wife for a (now married to a farm boy) reader because while he will stay a hero he won't be as respected by the kingdom for leaving a kind and respected woman, then trying to go for a married woman.

Reputation? Respect?? What does he care what the kingdom thinks of him when he’s the only thing standing between them and world devastation? The only reason he’s morally “good” in the eyes of the kingdom is because they follow the goddess’s teachings which so happens to be who he’s blessed by. The crimes he commits always have something to do with you so there is a much greater chance that you receive the backlash for his unhero like behavior than he does. They can’t hurt him, both because they physically can’t and they need to remain on his good side so they don’t die. But, you? They can hurt you. In one of the realities he makes a deal with the king to legally imprison you so others turn a blind eye to his not so moral actions. A deal they’re willing to make if it’s for the greater good, ya know? Tasman doesn’t care about other people. He barely considers them people. The only reason he plays nice and doesn’t take advantage of his supernatural abilities is because he believes it would be too much of a headache to completely upend life as you know it. He keeps up appearances of the righteous hero so he can comfortably do whatever he wants. The only person whose opinion matters to him is yours, though it doesn’t seem to mean much when your wants and desires stray from a future where the two of you are together or you’re alone.

TW: suggests death

—

The cicadas always seemed to scream the loudest right before the sun pierced the horizon.

A feverish kiss was shared right before a frantic embrace as promises of his quick return caressed your ears. You held each other like it was the last time you’d ever get to.

You promised you’d wait.

Unwanted tears flooded your eyes and you couldn’t help but feel selfish because you knew why he had to go. To want him to stay by your side when he was destined for something greater, the destined savior that would be revered when his mission was successful, because it had to be successful. Because he was going to return to you.

So you let him go.

Waiting long after his caravan disappeared from the dirt paved road, you remembered his words, his vow. It was enough to ease the burden on your heart for now. It had to be.

Life was never quite the same without him.

The first year, you’d look to every corner as if he’d appear, every closed door as if you were waiting for him to burst through and wrap his arms around you and promise something new. That he’d never leave you now that his mission was fulfilled.

It was a hope that was too soon.

You felt anxious the second year. Attempting to live as if such desperate yearning wasn’t what consumed your mind the minute you opened your eyes. You worked, ate, slept, moved through life as if someone else was living for you.

By the third, your loneliness had reached a peak. It was suffocating. His memory, the touches that no longer lingered, words that you’d play over and over in your mind to convince yourself to trust him. To trust that he was coming back. To chase away the anger that would turn into guilt, knowing full well why he couldn’t visit you. You’d convinced yourself that sending letters would compromise his position. That he would if he could, but fighting the demon king was already too much of a burden. You didn’t want to strain him further with your selfish expectations. You’d wait. You’d waited this long, you could wait a little longer.

The fourth was bright with celebration. It rekindled a new hope in you as people praised him, thanked him, worshipped the ground he walked on for saving you from the disaster. Joy was bright in everyone’s faces as they danced and laughed now that the dark cloud had finally lifted. You clasped your hands together, fingers fidgeting as you looked along the horizon, waiting. Almost every day you waited, impatient but understanding that there was probably plenty he had to do now that the war was over. He couldn’t just rush back to you. So you waited. Long after the sun disappeared. Long before the cicadas grew so loud you couldn’t bear to think.

You were treated like a widow.

Five years had passed with no word. People tried to be careful whenever they discussed the boy who’d grown up in this town. Everyone knew the relationship the two of you had, which is why they were especially careful when mentioning his marriage. Occasionally someone would slip up and you couldn’t help the flinch that would rip through your body.

You couldn’t understand. You waited. You did what you said you’d do, so why? Did the promise the two of you made mean nothing? You couldn’t help the days you locked yourself in your room, unable to bear the heartbreak drenched in grief.

The town was quiet on nights like those. Grateful for the cicadas that almost drowned that haunting wail.

It was too soon to think about a new relationship.

Sure, it had been six years since you’d last seen him, but you still felt an ache in your soul and it was too new of a wound to hide with friendly smiles.

He was someone you’d grown up with. He was well aware of your relationship with Tasman. It made it even harder. You don’t know why you accepted his offer to go out on a date. Maybe it was the persistence or if you had grown tired of hurting with no relief.

You wondered if it would remind you of him. If you’d compare the two, and you were right. But he was nothing like Tasman. The more time you spent with him, the easier it was to recognize he was nothing like your first love.

It was a relief.

For the first time you thought, maybe you could move on.

You began to smile again. He pointed it out on one of your dates. The two of you would often camp out wherever the sun shined the brightest, content to feel its ray on your skin as you held each other and talked. His observation didn’t cause the knee jerk reaction you thought it would.

The raging pain from memories of who you were before. The dull ache you carried that seemed to sting a little less with each passing day.

You looked at him and finally realized what he meant to you.

The man who brought back your smile. The one who helped you realize your would had scarred nicely.

It wasn’t much. He couldn’t offer you the world, but what he did offer was worth more. He was kind and thoughtful, he listened, and his flaws touched you a lot deeper than you thought capable. There was no question, no hesitation when he asked you to marry him.

For the first time, you truly began to remember what happiness felt like.

It happened during the night. On a day you would never have assumed would hold as much importance as it did.

Your eyes were forced open as a violent cough racked through your body. Sitting up from the bed, you felt a pounding in your skull.

It was supposed to be night. A strange uneasiness crept in your body at how bright your room was.

You climbed out of bed when you realized he wasn’t laying next to you, shuffling to the window and feeling your heart stop at the sight of the barn. It was engulfed in flames.

You screamed his name as you ran down the stairs, knowing he would’ve woken you if he realized something was wrong. Gasping at the sight of flames spreading through your house, you ran to the back door to escape the heat that was dangerously creeping towards you.

Slamming the back door open, you called for him again, rushing towards the barn before coming to a dead halt when you realized it was too late for the hose. You would have to watch helplessly as his family’s home burned to the ground.

Where was he? Why wasn’t he answering you? Did something happen to him?

Anxious fear told you to do something. That you needed to find him. You didn’t know where you would go or who to ask for help, but everything else could wait. At least until you knew he was okay.

“Lover,” a familiar voice said, causing you to whip around. .

It felt as if time had stopped as a look of realization passed across your features when the stranger walked close enough for your eyes to make out his features. What was he doing here? Standing still, watching you as if this was completely normal.

Tasman.

You couldn’t help the dread you felt at the smile on his face. The familiar smile he always wore. A smile that didn’t ackowledge the dumbfounded horror on your face or the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes that stung from the smoke or the unwilling realization that there was no chance you’d ever see him again.

His eyes seemed alight with something sinister and the flames that licked the barn behind you only heightened the unearthly glow in them that grew as he came closer.

This wasn’t the reunion you imagined. It wasn’t one you wanted anymore. Why was he here? Where was he?

He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, your body too limp to resist his affections as he squeezed you tightly.

“I’ve missed you.”

The cicadas always seemed to scream the loudest right before the sun pierced the horizon, but despite the crackling flames that lit the sky, they were quiet.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #ask #yandere male #gn reader #yandere hero x reader #yandere hero #yan!tasman

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kathairoette · 7 months

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Various Yugi, Yami, and puzzleship headcanons because one I'm too busy to draw much, and two I wanted to write a little something for myself, just for fun. And you get to see them too (• 3 •) :

Yami’s transition from vengeful vigilante to kind-hearted yet prideful pharaoh was rocky to say the least. Not understanding and not quite willing to accept Yuugi’s kindness, most of his attempts to understand his newfound life was filled with stone-cold faces, confused stares, and offended petulance. But Yuugi is equally stubborn in helping his new friend acclimatize to being human again, so he does his best to teach him, even if not everything he does is successful.

Yami, despite loving Yuugi, doesn’t worship the ground his partner walks on. Instead he sees a person who’s gone through hardship, being lonely and bullied, and still somehow smiling at the end of it, and it amazes him as much as it confuses him. He’s unsure how to proceed with a person who seems so contradictory. Though with time, he recognizes Yuugi's inner strength and resolves to help Yuugi see what he himself saw in his partner.

Yuugi will never admit it, but whenever he gets the chance to become “the strong one” and help Yami out for a change, it gives him a heady feeling that rivals anything he’s felt before. For once, he gets to protect others, something he never gets to do, and plus, he’s protecting the one person who protects everyone else. He, the tiny and small Yuugi Mutou, protecting Yami no Yuugi, the hero! He finally gets the chance to be “the lead” almost, and it brings him greater joy than any other. Ofc he doesn't flaunt it, but it's definitely something he feels and to a degree feels ashamed about. Though he lets himself be arrogant, just a teeny tiny bit.

To Yami though, Yuugi becomes very vigilant and constant in looking out for him, something he does appreciate exclusively from Yuugi when he can no longer stand on his own.

In terms of love, the spirit only knows it in theory. He loves his partner, he cares for his friends, he loves his home of Egypt, and he loves his priests and his people. But the kind of love where two people love each other, is less foreign and more of unsure territory for him. He recognizes it’s a love that goes beyond what he’s felt for anyone else, but doesn’t know how to approach it. Much less appreciate it.

Yuugi meanwhile, understands love very well. He’s yearned for it for years, and finally feels it for Yami, his partner and dear spirit. He hides it of course, the world is more important than his feelings, but when it’s all over and he gets the chance to act on them, his desperate heart won’t let him be so selfless. He enjoys and revels in teaching Yami the many ways one could love, as to him, it shows just how much he loves Yami in turn. But he’s equally patient about it, taking it step by step. Sometimes, he’s so gentle that Yami gets impatient, but Yami’s equally weak to his partner’s tenderness, especially when it’s geared towards him.

Their relationship isn’t fueled by something as small as one’s appearance, nor did it ever start from it. But when those moments come, Yuugi can feel his breath be stolen by Yami’s visage, or Yami blinking when he sees how the light refracts in Yuugi’s eyes. Still, they appreciate each other’s appearance and take full advantage to do so, especially when having separate bodies. They appreciate them as they entirely are, and not for singular details.

Yuugi likes squeezing Yami’s butt. There isn’t much there, but whatever he gets, he gropes. Yami’s since then no longer bothered to scold him, only giving him a mild glare and blush whenever he does it. Though he always somehow knows when to smack Yuugi’s hand away when they’re out in public events.

Neither are comfortable to sleep on because they’re quite lanky, even if Yami came back in Atem’s body (trust me, if he really is all muscle then those are rocks dude, not pillows) So instead Yugi and Yami both like taking a pillow and just putting it on themselves so the other can sleep on them.

Atem, when alive, was a well-meaning king. A little spoiled, since he was such a golden boy, but overall, a good-natured king. He often listens out to his people, gets into quarrels with Seth because of his seemingly soft nature, and tries to be equal in his sense of judgement. But it never changes the fact that he was a young king, and there was much he had left to learn by the time Kul Elna’s history was revealed. These lessons unfortunately, he would never know, not until 3000 years later.

When Yami/Atem comes back, he doesn’t come back fully human. Being locked in an ancient artifact with the remnants of darkness incarnate changes you. So while he looks human, he still holds control over the shadows and is as much of their slave as he was their master. The only difference is that the shadows don’t scream anymore, and are more or less docile unless Yami riles them up. And they don’t hurt him anymore, so that’s pretty good too.

#I dunno if these count as headcanons??#tho I guess headcanons ARE just ideas you think up of characters lmao #so I guess they are #also horray for main posting lmao guess you're getting more than art XD #yugioh season 0 #yugioh #ygo #yami yuugi #mutou yuugi #yami yugi #yugi moto #pharaoh atem #puzzleshipping

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wh3nturtlesfly · 1 year

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Enemies with benefits and yearning THE YEARNING UGH ILL DIE.

It didn’t matter how long it had been going on, Hero still shuddered each time their door shut. There was always an emptiness inside them, something they could never quite shake. Everything about it screamed wrong, Hero shouldn’t have felt this way, not about Villain of all people. Still, each time they met Hero couldn’t help but shake the fact that they wanted more. More than this silly arrangement they had created. Something greater.

Something real.

“My, you’re looking less chipper than usual. Did someone steal your favorite cape?” Villain had already shed their first layer, the jacket long discarded on the floor. Cool fingers roamed across Hero’s stomach, teasing the hem of their t-shirt.

Hero looked away. “It’s nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me darling.” The tone was cold, though Villain’s expression carried a hint of concern. Then, softer they said, “If something’s wrong you can tell me. You know that right?” Their hand rose to cup Hero’s jaw but they shrugged away from the touch.

“Can I though? You’re nothing more than an agreement, a stupid deal we made because we’re both too desperate to actually find someone.”

Villain shrunk back as if they had been burned. Their expression hardened, “You sure don’t put it lightly.”

“I’m being honest. This isn’t real. We aren’t real.”

“You don’t mean that,” Villain’s voice lowered. Their fingers closed around the Hero’s waist, rubbing circles over the skin.

Villain was right. Hero didn’t mean it. Maybe that was the problem.

As much as they had tried to push it away this was real. Every kiss that lingered for a moment longer than it should. Each smile that Hero was determined to cherish forever. They longed for each time they’d get to see it again.

They had tried so hard to keep the arrangement from growing. Nothing but a deal. An agreement. A passage of time- but despite them trying to hide it, their feelings had become true.

How could Villain ever understand? Met with their expectant gaze, it was impossible for Hero to explain. There was too much, even as the Villain met their eyes with confusion. There would never be enough words for what Hero felt inside.

So they didn’t speak.

Arms thrust forward, they pulled the Villain in close and held them until their breathing had matched. Hero buried their face in the Villain’s chest, even as their nemesis grew stiff. They were uncertain. Out of all the nights they had met, they had never embraced like this.

“I want you,” Hero finally whispered. They grasped Villain’s shirt like a lifeline as if they could make the moment last forever. “All of you. Good- bad, I don’t care. I just have to be with you. For real.”

They were met with silence. Then, slowly Hero felt the presence of Villain’s arms across their back. They returned the embrace, pressing closer with a lighthearted chuckle. Tension slipped from their shoulders and Villain cupped Hero’s cheek with a smile. “God, I was beginning to think you’d never ask.”

That sent a jolt through the Hero, “What?”

“Don’t look so shocked darling, I’ve loved you from the start.” They pulled back only to clutch Hero’s hands in their own, entwining their fingers with a smile. Gently they swept their thumb over the back of Hero’s hand before pressing kisses to the pads of their fingers. “I was just worried you’d never feel the same- that this was the only way you would ever want me.”

Villain admitted such things with a hint of sadness. Yes, originally they hadn’t known what they were looking for, but the moment they had stepped into Hero’s quarters, seen the crinkle of their eyes with every smirk, they had known they couldn’t live without the crime-fighter. Each battle they had, every quarrel in which the Hero just so happened to let them slip away before the authorities came- Villain hadn’t been able to stand their time apart. Though heaven forbid they ever admit it unless Hero came to feel the same way. But now it was true, all of it, and Villain couldn’t help but smile.

Their hands crept up to Hero’s face where they brushed away a tear. Hero still smiled, but even then, Villain couldn’t push down their worries. “Did I say something wrong?”

A wobbly laugh bubbled in Hero’s throat and they shook their head. “No- you said everything right,” and with that they pulled the Villain close.

It was only a brush of lips at first, hesitant. Both stayed there for a moment, asking silent permission. Hero was the first to act, hands grasping at the Villain’s collar until their lips had sealed into a real kiss.

Villain didn’t hesitate after that, hooking their fingers into Hero’s belt loops if only to pull them closer. They sighed into the kiss with a smile. It was unlike anything that had ever happened between the two. What it lacked in its usual ferocity was something even greater. Something sweet, that even as Hero began to trail kisses across Villain’s cheeks, they couldn’t seem to stop smiling from. They had to resist the urge to giggle, instead opting to pull Hero in and place a kiss of their own to their lover's hair.

Pure ecstacy. That was the only description Hero could think of. The nights before had been so thrilling, and yet this- Hero yearned with each second to pull the Villain impossibly closer. Their nails carded through Villain’s hair and they received a soft sigh in return, all while their lips graced Villain’s cheeks, lips, brows, jaw. With each moment there was only one thought that spread through the Hero’s mind.

I love you. I love you. I love you. They whispered it like a promise with each press of their lips. When they had finally grown tired, they buried their face into the crook of Villain’s neck where warm arms wrapped around their torso.

Every question they had shoved away, every wish for something more, it had all been fulfilled. They melted into Villain’s arms and allowed their eyes to slip closed. Then, as they drifted off to sleep, they heard it. Like an echo, the phrase drifted into Hero’s ears, smooth with Villain’s voice.

“I love you too.”

#turtlewrites #hero x villain #villain x hero #enemies with benefits #heroes and villains #hurt/comfort #snippet #writing snippet #writing

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marispunk · 5 months

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Dear John..... || Captain John Price

pairing: Captain John Price!cod x reader

summary: reader misses john :(

warnings: fluff? idk what to really put for this part.

⚜✤⚜✤⚜✤⚜✤⚜✤⚜✤⚜

Dear John,

As I sit down to write you this letter, my heart is filled with a mix of emotions—love, pride, and a twinge of longing. Distance may keep us physically apart, but know that you are ever-present in my thoughts and prayers.

It's been months since you were deployed, and not a day goes by without me thinking about you. The house feels quieter, the days a bit longer, and yet, I find strength in the love we share. Your bravery has always inspired me, and now, as you embark on this challenging journey, I am reminded of the depth of your commitment.

I imagine you in the vastness of unfamiliar landscapes, facing the unknown with courage etched into every step. I can't help but marvel at your strength and dedication to a cause greater than yourself. Your sense of duty is a beacon that guides you through the challenges, and I want you to know that I stand behind you, unwavering in my support.

Our conversations, whether through letters or the occasional phone call, are the lifelines that tether me to you. I hang onto every word, finding comfort in the cadence of your voice and the familiar laughter that bridges the gap between our worlds. Each message becomes a treasure, a reminder that, despite the miles, our connection remains unbroken.

The nights are the hardest, my love. As the stars blanket the sky, I find myself yearning for the warmth of your presence beside me. But even in your absence, I find solace in the memories we've created, in the love that wraps around me like a protective embrace. Your photo sits on the bedside table, a constant reminder that you are not just a memory but a living, breathing part of my heart.

I hear stories of your camaraderie with fellow servicemen and women, and it warms my heart to know that you've found a second family in the midst of duty. Your letters carry the echoes of shared laughter, shared struggles, and the unspoken bond that forms among those who serve together. It's both comforting and bittersweet, as I know you face challenges I can only imagine.

Please take care of yourself, my love. Your well-being is my utmost concern, and I hope you find moments of respite amid the demands of your responsibilities. Lean on your comrades, and remember that you are not alone in this journey. Your strength is a testament to the person you are, and I have no doubt that you will navigate through whatever challenges come your way.

I eagerly await the day when you return, when distance becomes a mere memory, and we can embrace the ordinary moments we've missed. Until then, know that my love for you grows with each passing day. You are my hero, my anchor, and I am immensely proud to be the one waiting for you on the other side of this journey.

Stay safe, stay strong, and come back to me soon.

With all my love

authors note: how do I make a master list? I'm new to this:( I hope ya'll are liking this so far please give questions or suggestions!!!

#captain price x reader #john price x reader #cod x reader #cod #cod modern warfare #call of duty #cod mw2 #modern warfare

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pedanticat-scratching-post · 1 year

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Oscar Pine Herbalist Trip

What If Oscar fell in the Everafter and was confronted by a past version of himself when meeting Herb?

What are you? Are you sure you know? You have to be sure of what you are, and of what you’re going to be.

These were the words Oscar heard as he suddenly found himself in a seemingly endless dark void that was filled with nothing but the very same billowing smoke that the Herbalist had created. His eyes desperately darted around the surroundings as he tried to find his friends.

“Ruby!” Oscar yelled as he continued to scan the void. “Yang? Hello? Ugh, where the heck are we Oz?”

I don’t know, but the important thing is to stay calm. We need to-

Whatever Oz was about to say ended up getting interrupted as Oscar found himself coughing as the smoke that he inhaled exited out of him. Though things became even stranger as that very said smoke began to take shape until said shape ended up taking the form of himself. Or at least, a past version of himself that still wore his former farmwear attire with a clone now smiling at him.

“Wh…what?” Oscar stuttered. “Ho…how is this even possible?”

“You don’t have to save the world you know,” Past Oscar. “You can go back to being just a simple farmhand.”

Oscar took a step back in shock. He was already confused over being in yet another strange world, but now he was talking to a past version of himself. This didn’t make any sense.

“What are you talking about?” Oscar asked.

“Oh come now,” Past Oscar said as he waved a hand dismissively. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. Going back to your old life. A simpler life. A life where all you had to worry about was tending to the farm.”

“Why would I want that?” Oscar asked. Though even as the words left his mouth, he knew the actual reason why such a question would be asked.

“Because you don’t want to lose who you are,” Past Oscar explained. “You don’t have to be yet another person forced into fighting in a never-ending war against an immortal monster. You can just go back to being you. Regular old Oscar Pine. No identity crisis, no torture, just you. Isn’t that what you want? To be just you again?”

Oscar soaked in the words that he had just heard. It was as if this past version of himself had uttered all the doubts and desires that have weighed on his mind ever since his journey first began all those months ago. Even though he’s been inspired to help protect remnant and to step up as a hero despite the threat of no longer being himself, a part of him still yearned for that simpler time in his life. Back when he was living blissfully ignorant about the greater danger that threatened Remnant. Back when his life wasn’t constantly being threatened and worried about no longer being himself. He was being offered a chance to fulfill a desire that he had still yearned for deep down but accepted that it wasn’t possible. But now it seemingly was possible. And with Ozpin remaining silent, it seemed like this was a choice Ozpin would allow himself to choose with no intervention.

He wanted nothing more than to accept this offer…but then he thought about everything that has occurred to him since the day Oz entered his life. For all the physical and emotional pain, he’s gone through on this journey, there were a lot of pleasant memories as well. He had grown to become the very hero he had dreamt of being with him making a difference in the world. Gotten a big sister in the form of Nora whose bear crushing hugs always made his days brighter. Formed a brotherly bond with Jaune who had taken him under his wing with the two training together and simply hanging out. And most importantly, gotten to meet Ruby Rose, the most amazing person he’d ever met in his life. She was like the very hero of the very stories he grew up reading and aspired to be with her always lifting him up during all those times he found himself consumed by worry and fear. And he now wanted to desperately do the same for her since he’s been noticing how withdrawn she has been while in the Everafter. Accepting this offer would result in not only losing the chance to help Remnant but also helping the people he’s grown to care about.

With his fists now clenched, he stared back at his duplicate in defiance. “No. Maybe that life was easier, but it was also a life of complacency where I was neither making a difference in the world nor growing as a person. I am scared about no longer being the same person I once was, but I’m not going to let that fear prevent me from doing what’s right. I’m going to help save both the world and the people that I care about, but not because I’m Ozma or Ozpin, or anyone else. I’m doing it because of who I am, and who I am is Oscar Pine!”

#RWBY #Oscar Pine #Ruby Rose #RWBY Rosegarden #RWBY volume 9 #RWBY V9 #nora valkyrie #Ozpin #Ozma #drabbles

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bargainbincheese · 10 days

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The Grave Robber's Burial

If you kill someone, they execute you. Simple. If you desecrate a grave, they banish you. I never understood that. Should it not be a greater crime to jeopardize someone's immortal soul than to end their life on earth? It should be if you truly believe in the afterlife.

I found myself under several feet of stone. The blizzard outside was silent except when the wind blew at exactly the right angle to shoot a jet of ice and snow through a crack in the ceiling. The inside of the black pyramid was completely hollow except for the casket at the center. At least, that's what we thought based on the echo. We only had one lantern left.

Under the occasional wailing wind was the clank clank clank of my partner's pickax. Where the casket had been out in the open the last time I was here, it was now buried under a dome of clear ice. The pyramid had flooded at some point since then. That was probably my fault too.

Bobby was a good kid. Ambitious, angry, loyal to a fault. He stayed loyal despite his past, something I admired. I was about to abandon him too, and I knew for a fact that he still wouldn't change. Good. At least he would make it out of here alive. The cold kills you by stripping away your will to live. It makes you forget all the reasons you have to keep going. It makes living hard and dying as easy as falling asleep. Bobby wasn't going to die easy, and he wasn't going to forget what it was he had to live for. He wouldn't let me forget.

Me, I hadn't had anything to live for in a long time. After I was banished, I came to this wild unknown country where everything is different. The people here worship the evil sun and burn their dead. According to my people, none of them will ever see Paradise. Still, there are enough older graves to make my living. These lands were not always ruled by the sun god. I wandered, and plundered, and drank, and went through companions over the years. As an old man, I became tired and yearned for the homeland I could never return to.

I think that's what brought me to the Oracle. I climbed the steep steps of the cave, torchlight animating the shadows on the walls. She told me one thing: you will die on the twentieth day of April. The priestesses told me the message likely meant more than I knew, but they were wrong. I understood perfectly. I was going to die, and there would be no one to bury me. After that, I traveled from village to village, begging anyone who would listen to bury me according to the customs of my people. The answer was always the same.

You are a stranger. We will not waste the labor of ten men for your foreigner's superstition.

My people believe in the journey that souls undertake upon their death. We bury our dead with their belongings and we pray for their safe passage into Paradise. When you die, you are no longer protected from the wrath of the evil sun. That's why we put our dead under a foot of stone. So he cannot see them.

It was in Sunset, a town that was half in the sun's country, and half in my native land. On the sun's side is where I met Bobby. I noticed him at a laundromat. He had the dark curly hair of my countrymen and it was cut short - a sign of disgrace. I'd cut my hair when they banished me. Bobby hadn't broken the law though, he'd just broken a promise.

On cold nights by the campfire, it was difficult to avoid getting to know each other. I knew I only had a few weeks to live, so even if I was betraying him, I wanted to save him as much grief as I could. He would play his harmonica and tell me stories of our homeland. His ex-wife was also a musician, and it was obvious that he was deeply in love with her.

The day we caught sight of the pyramid is the day I told him the truth. I reassured him that the tomb was so old that we weren't really doing anything wrong. The soul inside was long gone by now - although this I knew for a fact because I'd plundered it myself a decade ago. I worried that night, but when I woke to find him tending the horses in the morning light, I knew he would come. We drank our coffee and hiked up through the wind and the cold.

This time, the black pyramid was covered in ice. The first few days were clear with the evil sun's light glinting off the black stone and white snow. On the 19th, a blizzard covered the sky, and that night is when we finally broke in. The sun would have risen on my death-day, but I'd never see it again.

Clank clank clank PLUNK.

Bobby's pickax made contact with the obsidian cover on the casket. I'd gone to sit down with the pretense of taking a quick break, but I knew what was in store for me on this day and what would happen if I stopped moving. My feet and legs ached, but slowly the sensation faded. Next my chafed hands and aching arms began to fade from my awareness. I felt like I was being tucked into bed, with sleep just a blink away.

"Hey boss get over here!" Bobby looked over at me and his face dropped. "Hey boss?" The young man carefully walked over the ice to my side. He took his blanket out of his pack and wrapped it around me. He tried getting me up. I'm a small old man and he is young and strong, but my legs were already far gone. "Hey man you don't want me to get all the treasure for myself do you?"

His concerned words faded into the blackness of the tomb. My tomb. My consciousness slipped away. I no longer felt cold. I felt nothing at all. Even on death's door I couldn't bring myself to believe in the afterlife. I just wanted someone to bury me.

#short story #original fiction #bob dylan #it's very short! lmk what you think <3 #isis day

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fullofmultitudesfullofshit · 7 months

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to all my old unfinished fanfics--

i wrote you when i was a teenager, angry, pensive, and obviously, "different from all those other girls"

i wrote stories that i knew strangers on the internet would love & i dedicated them to you

as i read you now, i see i described things in ways that were clunky and funny and unadult -- how did anyone take this seriously?

"her grey-green orbs were so beautiful," "his heart cried out to hers with joy and love," "there is no better love than hers," "at 16, he was so hot," "she thought to herself, looking in the mirror, 'i am so beautiful.'" "NO, YOU'RE NOT, YOU'RE WRETCHED" -- snippets of a historical fantasy alternate universe that i really just stole from Pride and Prejudice (2005)

the love between two characters had never known greater romance than when i was 15, angsty and alone

i think of what i was like when i wrote you -- a girl with not many friends, who didn't really ever feel alone because she hung out with her mom, journaled about fake scenarios with high school crushes, took walks with her dog, and wrote you on the weekends

i dreamed of great big things when it came to you. year-long arcs that i knew would take forever, but would be well worth the payoff. the greatest love story of all time, a battle on the fields of Elysium, blood and guts and heroes and kings, warrior princesses with swords (who definitely were gay at the time, i just didn't know it) -- rich and beautiful things that would only get better, the more i wrote

i remember i cried over a review i received about you. my original character was so obviously a "mary-sue," the review had said. at 15, i was certain no one had faced a harsher critic of literary reviews than i had.

but if i'm being honest, mary-sues deserved better. they were just teen girls who were good at everything and had cool hair. who wouldn't want to be a mary-sue? and that's why we wrote them. if it makes you feel better, i'm sure 75% of all mary-sues are now married to women.

but i'm being too harsh on you. you weren't all bad.

you represented all the things i hoped, yearned for, and wanted.

i wanted to be loved like the characters i wrote in you, i wanted to create worlds and gods and time-bending scapes, i wanted to feel the feelings i only dreamed about in you, i wanted to see all the right and happy endings in place where they should've been all along.

i wrote you because you were the place where i put all the love i had.

and now, ten years later, i'm not sure what has changed.

i still have all this love for you and all those characters i loved so long ago, but now i write essays, 30-page analyses of characters and narratives from other histories and times, i piece together lineages and heritages of long-gone places. my job is no longer to write you, but to study and interrogate the stories of others.

but you make me remember who i once was -- as all relics of past ages do -- a young girl, with all this love and creativity, who had nowhere to put it but in you.

maybe one day, when i put down the stories of others, and i stop needing to prove that there is joy in what there is not, i'll find you again.

#fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #ao3 #fanfic.net #writing #poetry #tumblr musings

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alschterin · 2 years

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just an angsty headcanon, nothing more, nothing less.

i was thinking how could it be that an up-tight gentleman always wearing spick-and-span suits and a charming smile, heartbreaker, a curious and a genius mind could turn into an eccentric old man preferring robes over suits, trickery over hands-on approach, ready to sacrifice anything for the greater goal.

i thought of it long and hard.

"who'll love you now? you are all alone"

and so albus was, after the duel, heartbroken himself, with a broken blood oath, with gellert's "who will love you now?" echoing in his mind, with the weight of responsibility for his sister, with the weight of responsibility for this rotting world and a wand that was bound to drive its owner insane no matter which side they belonged to, with lust for power.

and so there he was, sitting in his office holding a cup and unable to put it down, tea cold, dripping onto the table; frozen over a paperwork he couldn't manage to read through, alas, there was nothing to read as all the words he saw were just a figment of his wounded mind. and an echo within his head.

minerva would knock on his door on the days like that bringing fresh tea and a box of sherbet lemon to sweeten his sorrows, to ease the burden as much as she could which never was good enough. yet the echo would go quieter, ever so slightly, and that would be just enough. at first.

and then, it would be the firewhiskey, the pubs and taverns and the polyjuice potion, unnamed dirty brothels in both the magic and the muggle london. he would be seeking the warmth he'd forgotten, the sense he'd lost, the lust for life he'd abandoned; or it had abandoned him.

his waistcoat would be forgotten somewhere, his jacket, too, and the shirt would go torn and dirty around the sleeves, yet he wouldn't care; just throw a robe over so no one would notice. the beard would start growing longer, and messy, and he wouldn't care about that either. there's nobody to look at him after all, not anymore, not in the way that his looks would matter.

but most importantly — and most dangerously at that — the light in his eyes would fade, slowly, as he would be fading himself, lost and no longer desiring to be found.

it would return, that light within his sight, a sparkle of life, curiosity, and mischief, but years later. when one day, out of the blue, newt scamander would knock on his door and allow himself in, have some tea looking ever so gently at him. ever so softly, with the tenderness albus so gravely needed.

and it would be then and there that he would realize that he was indeed loved, throughout all these years, just, perhaps, not in the way he would've wanted to be yet that love would be more than enough. even though newt would have a ring on his finger and photos of kids and most favorite creatures. he would bring the love albus yearned.

and that love, that loneliness that he'd suffered and never would wish upon anyone would make him decide to rescue a frightened and lonesome boy from an orphanage, a boy named tom.

#harry potter #fantastic beats and where to find them #albus dumbledore #gellert grindelwald #grindledore #newt scamander #headcanon

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spocks-husband · 5 months

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i fell in love with a war (no one told me it ended).

Words: 2,019

Genre/Tropes: Introspective, Angst

Summary: Kira doesn't know who she is now that the war is over.

Notes: Kira... My bbg... I needed her to suffer idk why

Kira Nerys was a bright child-- born a giggling infant with flaming red hair and eyes that wanted so desperately to soak up all the world around her. She was the first-- and, as later they would come to find, only-- daughter of Meru and Taban, and always their pride and joy.

They grieved silently for her, for the person she could've been. It was a silent agony, knowing that had the girl been born in another time, another place, she could've been something so much greater than a child soldier; knowing that she could've held in her hand a paintbrush or a book or perhaps even a Starfleet uniform instead of a phaser that her pudgy fingers were barely large enough to pull the trigger of; knowing that the chances that she would live were slim enough that most other adults the couple knew called them fools for having given her a name before her first birthday.

Or second.

Or third.

'You'll grow too attached,' they would tsk and judge. 'When she dies, you'll have a much harder time getting over it.'

When.

They always said when, never if.

Meru tried not to be angry at the others for such comments, she really did-- she knew the kind of things they'd witnessed, the kind of losses they've felt, because she'd felt them too-- but she couldn't imagine how anyone else could have a child like hers and look down at her-- her little smile, her big eyes, her tiny hands that grasped out for whatever they could reach-- and resign themself to the fact that she wouldn't see her first gratitude festival.

She just couldn't.

Meru and Taban clung to a hope they could barely name, a fragile thread that bound them to a future they dared not fully embrace. Meru used to joke with her husband that she'd prayed so much for Nerys in those first twenty-something months that she could never ask the prophets for anything ever again. She wanted so desperately to watch that little girl grow into a strong, healthy child, to watch her play springball with the other children and argue with whatever siblings she may someday have; to see her grow into an independent woman, to know her passions and her strengths and her weaknesses, to attend her wedding, to know everything it was possible to know about her...

Meru knew well that it was dangerous to daydream. What was it that her father used to say? 'Hope is a tool that can only be used with your eyes open and vigilant'? Something like that. God, she wished he could've seen Nerys. She was so tiny, asleep on the floor of their home, resting between her parents safe and quiet and ignorant of the fact that just outside the door lay a war most claimed was destined to kill her.

So fragile, so tiny...

Meru and Taban just hoped she wouldn't stay that way. They both yearned desperately for a day in which they could look at her and remember these early days with a fond nostalgia, wondering how she could've grown so much. Just as long as she didn't stay this small for longer than she was meant to.

She deserved to grow up.

Every Bajoran child-- no matter what province, what family, what caste-- learns early that there are three things true in this world

First and foremost, like the air they breathe, a Bajoran child learns from parents and siblings and neighbors and friends that Cardassians steal and take and brutalize all that stands in front of them by nature. Never trust them-- no matter what they say to you. They will claim they have your best interests at heart, they will claim that they can help you, that they only want to advance your people into a new age of understanding and advancement, that they see you as their beloved wards, but they are lying. That is what they do. They will lie and exploit and cheat until there is no one left on Bajor to do so with, and when that day comes they will move onto the next planet and the next.

Next, a Bajoran child learns from the nihilists and madmen that line the streets of their camps and villages, men who've seen too much, whose minds have broken into shattered glass with which they can only recall the way it sliced open their fingers and bled them dry that the Bajoran people cower and weep and pray to a collection of Gods that seemingly can't hear them. They are a doomed people, he says, looking the child dead in her eyes as she's rushed further along the path. They cannot be saved!!

Those first two statements are generalizations, perhaps, but the third lesson a Bajoran child is taught-- alongside their earliest words and their alphabet and their morning prayers-- is one that she teaches herself. She teaches herself that there is no time to stop and make moral quandaries about the ethics of generalization when your people face extinction. When the dust has settled and the blood has dried, perhaps she will have time to mourn and agonize over that which she has lived with as a philosophy for all these years, about its questions and -- but now is not that time.

She's not certain that when (if?) that time comes she'll take advantage of it or not.

She's not certain she'll be able to.

She's not certain she'll want to.

Nerys' father always told her that her first word was lernal.

Survive.

Nerys wasn't sure she believed him all that much, but she never questioned it out loud. If her father was lying, it was for both of their sakes. Her father was a figure of stoic strength in the tapestry of her childhood, and he would spend hours reminiscing about a time long before her memories took root. A time when Meru was still with them, when they were something close enough to a family. 'Lernal,' he would repeat it with a quiet gravity, his eyes gazing into a distant past that Nerys herself couldn't recall, a time she could only identify with one simple mantra...

'Survive.'

That single word, spoken with a delicate mixture of pride and solemnity, was etched into the very foundation of Nerys's identity from her earliest memories. Her father insisted that this utterance had been her first, the inaugural testament of a life shaped by the crucible of Cardassian occupation. Yet, as she grew older, Nerys found herself harboring a seed of doubt. She questioned it, silently, but never voiced her skepticism. She couldn't. To question her father's words felt like an act of sacrilege against the sacred narrative of survival that bound their family and, by extension, their entire people. Perhaps, she mused, it was a testament to her father's protective instinct, a shield fashioned from a fibrous thread of hope that he wove into the very framework of their existence. If he lied, it was a benevolent deception, a shared illusion that fortified their resilience against the oppression they lived with.

And besides, if it wasn't true, it was better than her brother's first word.

Teyma.

Suffer.

She heard him say it herself, but when Reon asked if it was true, she didn't answer. She wasn't sure why, but... she couldn't. Nerys was a witness to her brother's proclamation that day, and she couldn't help that she felt a heavy weight settle upon her heart at the thought of it. She had heard her father speak those words to Reon as he explained the story; she had seen the defiant spark in her brother's eyes as he was told-- he found it hilarious. Reon found everything hilarious, actually-- Nerys had always quietly envied his ability to find joy in any circumstance. Yet, when Reon turned to her, a playful gleam in his eyes seeking confirmation, Nerys found herself ensnared in an inexplicable silence.

The unspoken truth hung between them, a delicate web woven with threads of hesitation and unvoiced fears... Why couldn't she confirm what her father had said? She knew it was true, she'd heard it herself, but she couldn't even bring herself to nod in response. Was it a reluctance to bear witness to the brutality of their shared experience, the childhoods that were stolen from them both, or did it stem from an unspoken acknowledgment that, in a world marred by suffering, some truths were best left obscured? Hidden behind the protective hands of an elder sister, hopeful to keep Reon away from...

From what?

From himself?

From the truth?

She tried to think about it. She didn't have the answers anyway.

When Nerys cut her hair short for the first time, she was thirteen. Or, maybe twelve actually... eleven? Fourteen? Prophets, she didn't know. Time, in those tumultuous days, seemed an elusive phantom, slipping through her grasp like sand between eager fingers. Everything was always so blurry and distant from that time in her life, like watching someone else go about their life through a wall of smoke. Quietly, she wondered what was burning.

The memories of that day came in flashes and images-- sensations, on the bad days.

The way that Cardassian guard had grabbed her by the wrist, his grip a malicious vice that left an indelible mark on both her flesh and her psyche. His claws had dug into her skin like knives, puncturing through her pale flesh. At that moment, her eyes wide and her hands shaking, Nerys had accepted that she would make a good martyr.

The burning smell of the alleyway he'd tucked her into, the acrid scent of some unknown rot permitting her nose and stinging her brain like a cold wind.

The way he pulled at her hair until she was certain he would pull it out of her scalp. She tried not to think about that agony, that pain, the way her eyes had brimmed with tears-- but she fought to keep the man from seeing her cry.

The way she'd cried all the way home. That journey, a solitary pilgrimage through the aftermath of something she couldn't identify or name or understand, was marked by the rhythmic cadence of her hiccuping sobs—an inconsolable symphony that resonated with the weight of unspoken torment.

The way she'd only smiled and shook her head when her father asked if something was wrong because she knew if she spoke she would weep so hard it would kill her.

'Nerys? Why did you cut your hair?' They would ask.

She would smile.

'Just trying something new, that's all.'

The nightmares have gotten better.

The flashbacks were less frequent, less overwhelming.

That's what Nerys would say to Julian when he asked, anyway. She'd been on the station for more of her adult life than she really felt like thinking about. She knew it well, every passage, every room-- she could've navigated the place with her eyes closed, and she could navigate its people even easier. Julian was her friend. Her doctor, sure, but her friend first. Not worrying him was a larger concern of hers than self-preservation.

What was it that she used to tell herself? She would make a good martyr?

Maybe that wasn't true anymore.

Maybe Nerys had devolved into those same nihilistic madmen in the streets of the camps who taunted her childhood, scared of their own shadows. Maybe she'd grown too comfortable being hunted, too used to being the victim. Maybe it just felt safer to suffer.

Oh.

She chuckled softly.

Temya.

She still whispered her prayers like she was afraid to get caught practicing her faith.

She still felt her heart rate quicken seeing children play on the promenade-- afraid that they would be spotted by guards that weren't there and be accused of breaking laws that were no longer in place.

Benjamin had once told her that he sometimes felt that he'd never left Wolf 359...

Had Nerys ever left the battlefield?

Had she moved on past the life she figured she was born for?

Would she ever?

Could she?

#star trek #fanfic #my fanfic #kira #kira nerys #major kira #ds9 #deep space nine #deep space 9 #bajor #bajoran #introspective

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runeofgold · 1 year

Text

"You Know I Can't."

It's what he said then, it's what he's saying now. It's.. What he'll keep saying.

Radagon's expression is sad, and pained as he tells his beloved daughter Ranni, the same thing he told her mother years ago. Taking her heart with him upon his departure.

Ranni's eyes, that deep and beautiful blue of her mother's, gloss over as she tries to blink the tears away.

Her bottom lip barely trembled, but still yet did it tremble. She'd always cry like this..

Oh how he yearned to embrace her, but he doesn't. Not because he's cold and hates her, his sweet little Ranni.. But. He can't.

There's this hollow feeling, opening in his chest, blooming outward like a flower of nothingness.

"But-... But why can't-.. Why can't thee just.. Leave this all behind?"

Ohh.. Ranni's voice is that painful little quiver, a heartbreaking tone upon Radagon's ears. He shakes his head, shoulders falling limp in some unspoken defeat. What is he not telling her? Why is he not telling her?!

"Ranni-... Thou should just hate me. It's.. Better off that way. What I did was unforgivable- horrid, truly. Thou knows I can't."

Radagon's voice is low, almost a mutter. He has no need to yell, not at Ranni. Never.. At Ranni. Or any children. He's so ashamed of himself, he only glances at Ranni for a moment, before the golden hue falls back to the ground.

"Why-?.. Father.. There's got to be more to this than just picking up and leaving us!.. Please.. I beg of thee.."

She can beg all she want. But Greater Will alone, she must not know.

"I.. Am terribly sorry, Ranni.. But this is fate. Destiny.. No matter how much I regret it anymore."

Ranni knew her father. Radagon was loving, and amazing father. There wasn't a day he didn't love his family. Not a single damn day. Why would he abandon his family? One he loved beyond his being..

There was something else at play. It made Ranni feel ignorant.. Because she cannot understand a single thing. A single tear slides down her cheek.

Radagon can't take it anymore, and quickly embraces Ranni. Pulling her in close, he's strong as he always has felt, but.. There was a certain coldness upon his skin.

Ranni remembered him being much warmer than this. When she was small.. Whenever he hugged her, she was encompassed with his ever loving warmth.

But she wraps her arms around him in return, holding him back. Her head rested against his chest, and he held Ranni so close. One hand rubbing her back, the other holding her head.

"I love thee-.. So much. Dearest daughter Ranni.. Thou will always have place in mine heart.. Never forget what I've done.. I can't."

Ranni quietly sobs into him. Knowing this.. Is the last time she can ever do this. Radagon holds her, all this while. He kisses the top of her head, as he always did.

Ranni was horribly saddened by this, because it's the last she'll ever get. Their life was wonderful, before Radagon left them behind. She will never know the truth.. Will anyone but Radagon know?

They stay like that, a little while longer, until Radagon begins to slip away from Ranni.

"Love endlessly.. My precious child of the Moon. For there is nothing more sacred and precious.. Let thy love be thine succession, above all else."

Before he leaves, he pulls out a small pouch from his belt, before taking her hand, placing it into her palm. His hands clasped around hers, and he held her small and delicate hand between both of his.

Ranni didn't want him to let go. But he had to.

With a solemn expression Radagon turns to leave.

"This is goodbye.. For now, Ranni.."

She clutches the small pouch against her chest, above her beating heart, resisting the urge to cry more, and failing.

"Goodbye.. Father.."

She mutters, holding his gift in her hands, near and dear to her heart. Radagon stops, just before the other hall began, as if he had something to say. But alas.. Any words he had died right then and there, in his throat before they can even reach his mouth.

And so, the red haired Radagon leaves his daughter with similar hair alone, in the deafening silence of Leyndell's great castle hall.

#rune of: writing #greatruneof: radagon of the golden order #ranni the witch #pre-shattering #ahhh angst..#wrote this at 2:45 in the morning 😂#oh yeh #runeofgold: mod mori #angst #based off the song of the same title #from a game called the first tree #good game. will 100% make you cry for 10$ worth

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mark-of-chrysus · 1 year

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Here a fun loop Danny basically got into the Yaoi & Yuri world were people are homosexual and being is straight is an odd ball in that world.

You can say Jay is expressive as he doesn't need to hide his feelings for Daniel.

[I don't think societal norms affect their relationship as it is anyways, but if you're giving me a free opportunity to write about my favorite gay bitches who am I to decline?]

Danny should've been focusing on his surroundings more, he really should have, but there was something just so darn enchanting about his beloved's crimson lips that he couldn't help himself from staring.

Jay was looking even more exquisitely than he usually did, the two open buttons of his shirt revealing his delicate cleavage in a way that made Daniel conflicted between covering it up and sinking his teeth into the appetizing skin and leaving behind undeniable marks of his love. The mere thought of how that would draw such sweet little sounds from the mouth of his darling nearly sent him over the edge. He daydreamed of having the boy breathless and flushed beneath him, bent over the very desk he sat at in a vulgar display.

He resisted these urges, not because they were in public, but because he and Jay hadn't yet crossed that bridge in this loop and he intended on making their first time memorable, regardless of the fact he had already done so in each and every cycle. It was his way of cherishing the blonde, despite him not being aware of it.

This world was more open to same-sex relationships, those being the norm unlike most of the ones he passed through (not that it had ever stopped him from openly simping for Jay). The dynamic between his classmates and friends was, as such, a bit different, with many new couples. His favorite was between Zoe and Crystal at the current date, although it relieved him to see that Zack had remained utterly besotted with Mira despite the change. Some things never change! Danny shook his head fondly.

His gaze darted back to the desk near the window and he froze. While he had been stuck in his thoughts Jay had gotten up and leaned over his desk in a way that displayed even more of his sculpted chest. The black-haired boy looked up and gulped, his eyes glued to the supple curve of his classmate's neck. He once more restrained the urge to press his sweetheart to the wooden desk.

People are watching! The time-looper reminded himself. Jay had never been one for crowds, he knew that, but this clearly wasn't the case this time. Danny watched with a mix of surprise and fascination as the blonde reached for his chin, forcing him to look up. Their noses were almost touching and he felt as though waiting another moment would be enough for him to lose control.

Not at that stage yet-!

His thoughts were cut off by a pair of warm lips pressing onto his, first gently then more and more fiercely as he didn't reject them. Muscle memory took over and he placed a hand on the blonde's cheek while the other rested on his waist, gently maneuvering the boy on his lap. The make-out session began getting more intense as Jay moved his other hand into Danny's hair and tugged, getting a low groan from the taller male. Their lips molded perfectly against each other and their tongues curled and twisted together, not in a battle for dominance, but in a dance of passion. A small gasp escaped through the blonde's lips and was quickly swallowed by the other.

Once again the eons-old love reignited in Danny's chest like a flare. He yearned to pull other sounds from his mouth, not just those of carnal pleasure, but the addicting sound of his laughter or the small scoffs he gave when he was angry. He would happily abandon fighting and the 'greater good' if only to hold him in his embrace a moment longer. If he wanted the stars he would tear them from the heavens and bring them to him. One word, unspoken as it may be, and the boy would tear his own heart out and give it to him. One look and he would be on his knees in worship. One touch and he could die a thousand deaths in flames happily.

There were no words to explain his adoration for the boy, but one matter was certain beyond a shadow of a doubt in his mind, there was no greater joy than loving someone so deeply and for as long as he did.

"Ahem!"

The teacher's cough interrupted their kiss, and the two lovebirds were forced to separate, with Jay going back to his desk and leaving Daniel behind to sulk. Oh well, the bell is just about to ring anyway~

[Am I the only one feeling like the dynamic between the two twinks is a bit too one-sided? Look forward to me adjusting that next time! <3 ]

#time loop #lookism manhwa #webtoon lookism #lookism #daniel park #jay hong

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offantasiesandreams · 2 years

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Literally what I wouldn’t do for more of that puppet on strings prompt. PLEASEEEEE

Sorry that this took so long, I was actually deliberately trying to not take it too much further, but oh well! I wrote the continuation anyway! Glad to see that you like it! So, yeah, part 2 is here!

Filaments of a Vast Heaven

Continuation to this

Notes: NSFW, bondage, religious symbolism

Patience was one of the holy virtues, its opposing cardinal sin being wrath. Two extremes on a spectrum deciding between pleasure and pain, blessing and blight. Neither were a reward in and of themself right now, and together they achieved not peace, but merely an agony of a nature he had not known yet. Redemption lies in the purity of truth, and he had stripped himself of every garment of insincerity before you. Whether he was to see Eden or Abaddon lied solely in your responsibility.

You guided your hand up and down his manhood, slowly, making sure each and every stroke contributed to his delight. An illusion of it creeping ever closer, the end of a tunnel approaching, and yet, you never moved. For as soon as the light shone too bright, you took a step back. For as soon as you could feel his arousal twitch a bit too much to your liking, you let go. There was no reward greater than his humping the air. Batter saw you, he was looking at you, a haze covering his eyes.

Somehow, he realised through all your heavy breathing, you must have been as desperate as he was. Yet, your greed never even once got in the way of your hospitality. Another meeting of two opposites: Greed and charity. God, how he wanted to take, to receive from you, everything and so much more, just to fulfil his own filthy desires. You were good, you were kind, he mustn’t take advantage of you. But even so, gritting his teeth, his thoughts blurred together. “Please, (Y/N), please.”

A quiet plea reached your ears, a song of a creature building a new world crumbling under scarcity. Despair in woe, want in desires. That melody, however, lacked emotion. If anything, your little songbird should have hummed the tune of desperation with the verity and determination of the prophets themself. You were to reach this goal to turn the circles of hell into the spheres of heaven. But in order to achieve that, a visit to the terraces of purgatory was necessary.

Reassuring touches to his hip, they scorched and burnt themselves into his skin, leaving warm markings of love felt by him only. The heat travelled down further, attracted by its kin, joining to heighten the awareness of what he lacked. Only when you kneeled down in front of him again did the fire ignite into flashes of hope. Looking up at him, you gently blew onto the flare, your lips so close to touching it. No matter the difference in temperature, you were fanning the flames until they became a conflagration.

Although quietly begging you to pay attention to it, you completely disregarded it. A saint and a sinner resided in everyone concurrently, but this time it was the latter to show their display of fun in broad daylight, guilt couldn’t nag them for something they didn’t deem improper. And hence you ran your tongue over his scrotum. Both scent and taste left you with intensifying cravings of your own, your hand dragging itself up your thigh and towards your own arousal, if just to get some relief of your own.

How much longer? Who would break first? This wasn’t what he had in mind at all, his thoughts distorted from instincts he couldn’t ignore. Your wet tongue lapping up his sensitive skin was comparable to eating the fruit of knowledge: Whereas the satisfaction was there, it was not the kind with good consequences. No matter how much he tensed up, how much he tried to leap towards the end he longed for, the paradise was lost on him, shackles of outward influences holding him back.

“Please… please, I’m begging you… (Y/N), I need to… I…”

Stray words mixed with heavy breathing, the serenade of yearning has finally reached its crescendo. Adorned with the pulchritude of his tears glimmering in the light, it was your turn to play the part, completing the spectacle, giving it an ending befitting of the journey you had put him through. Gently, you caressed his neglected sex with one hand, taking a glance at him. Tired eyes, anticipating mercy in their half-lidded state, met yours. The saviour deserved his reward.

Small kisses placed on the tip of its head were the equivalent of the first meal after 40 days of starvation. That tiny pressure elated him. Closer and closer was the Empyreum of his dreams, guided by the love of his life. Your mouth wrapped around his member, your tongue licking him clean of the physical proof of his devotion to you. It was yours only to see and take. Sucking him like that, oh how he could feel the sun at its zenith pulling him closer and closer. His earthly body could not fathom the joy it brought him, but it still cheered for his success, moans escaping and grunts building up in his throat. Higher and higher, until it was there: the garden where the blessed were to rest.

The choir was comprised of his voice only, singing of ecstasy and bliss. One sound, one tone, more beautiful than the previous one, invoking the want to join in yourself, had you not been busied with extracting these sounds yourself. Yet, naught but god himself could stop you from humming along. Two voices combined into one, but as with all things, even this wonder had to end, the resulting applause so bitter as it took away your ability to breathe. You took it all in greedily as the ovation came to an end. Nothing but Batter’s heavy breathing remained as he stared at you, the eyes, usually so stoic and lacking emotion, overflowing with adoration.

When you had given him his freedom back, he felt as though he was missing a part of him. Almost stumbling to the ground as his legs were responsible for carrying him now, you were quick to catch him, slowly letting him onto the ground. Even when exhausted to the point where he could no longer fend for himself you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close and, for just a moment, taking away his duties. For just a moment, he wasn’t a puppet on strings, he was someone’s lover. Yours.

“(Y/N), I love you so much.”

“And like the heavens wrap themselves around the Earth, I love you too.”

#off (game)#batter x player #batter x reader #not seeing fabulous writing #this is long enough to be a fic in and of its own #goofed it at one point too and couldn't change it anymore #and by god do i hope that fact doesn't ruin this too much #i think it's still readable enough #i hope #but yeah please enjoy!#minors dni

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uptoolateart · 1 year

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Hi there! I recently just read a post you wrote last year answering the topic on why there actually is no love triangle in the anime Inuyasha - between Inuyasha, Kagome, and Kikyo - and I thought it was fabulous! It made me think about things from a different perspective for sure, especially being Christian, but opening up to ideas from eastern religions, like Buddhism, as you highlighted. I want to ask you something regarding Inuyasha, as well. What does Kagome see in Inuyasha? Besides the fact that their souls were meant to be together, what does she see in him to like him so much? When do you think Inuyasha realized he is falling in love with Kagome? I know for Kagome it was episode 48 in the anime tv series, when she goes back to Feudal Japan and they have that convo by the well and she admits she wants to be by his side - implying she likes him I think more than a friend here. But when does Inuyasha have this moment of realization that he likes her too?Was it around this time? After? Thanks so much! :)

Thank you so much! And sorry it took me forever to write this reply! #jobinterferingwithwhat'simportantlikeTumblr

As with love in real life, I don't personally think any of them fell in love at a precise moment. It developed over time.

I think Inuyasha was equally drawn to Kagome and repelled by her at first sight, due to seeing Kikyo in her. However, in the manga, it's clear that he softens to her fairly early on - namely, the first time he visits present day Tokyo, to help her with the little girl's ghost. He didn't believe there was anything they could do for the child, but Kagome refused to give up, and ultimately she proved him wrong. The imagery in the illustrations, and some of his silent reflections, indicate that he was won over by her heart. He's a bit of a damaged child, orphaned, rejected by his remaining family, yearning for nurturing. She gives this to him.

He's such a softy, really! And I think she was intrigued by the rare moments when he let his guard down and showed his vulnerable side - especially that first time she saw him go full human and he needed her to look after him. Each time he dropped the bravado and showed his inner tenderness, it gave her pause and she felt herself attracted without knowing it was happening. There are moments when she's talking with friends and they all see she's in love, but she hasn't worked it out herself. Their comments force her to reflect on her confusing feelings.

As for Inuyasha and Kikyo, there's a long scene that happens fairly early in the manga but I think it doesn't show up in the anime until later in the sequence. Anyway, we see the two of them bonding over both being outsiders, unable to live like ordinary humans. She gives is the one to suggest he use the crystal, so that he's fully human and she no longer has to dedicate her life to protecting the stone. She wants to live as a normal woman. He also protects her sister, which clearly attracts her.

All that said...I think the love Kagome feels for him goes deeper. It isn't about simply uniting because they're both misfits in their society. Kikyo feels a little...emotionally contained. Kagome is so much more passionate. Also, Kagome has no interest in changing him. She accepts him as he is - and ironically her acceptance is what transforms him. He's been seeking this from someone, anyone, for so long. She gives him a great gift no one else has ever given him - not even Kikyo, really.

But being with him transforms her, too. It makes her bolder, stronger. The two of them grow together, and learn from each other, the way soul mates should. This growth is possible because she is 500 years on from the point Kikyo was at. She is the soul having lived through so much more. With greater experience, she is able to give more to him.

#inuyasha #inuyasha analysis #inuyasha meta #inukag #kagome #kikyo #priestess kikyo #inukik #kagome higurashi

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bloodsworn-marshal · 2 years

Text

FFXIVWrite2022: Prompt 29

Writing Prompt: FUSE Words: 837

When did it all began… at what point was the fuse lit and no longer a point of return?

It took some time to burn. Slowly, oh so slowly festering.

But mere acquaintances in the beginning. Their sole connection being that of employer and supplier. Where the misunderstandings of one trainee’s learning brought reason for them to meet again. Then many more. The connection was no longer simply that, but a growing friendship. Where one thanked the other profusely for their assistance in each other’s endeavors, slowly webbing their way into each other’s lives.

It turned into visits both her place and his. Finding new places of quiet and comfort where they could talk as something other than just occupation related. They helped each other out one way or another. They shared lunch and shared what interesting going-ons went down in their days of work.

And then… and then it truly lit. A fire so small and so hungry. It clung to the very edges of its wick, as though it were fit to snuff out at any moment.

Each powerful moment fed into this flame, from one thing to the next. At first, it was but a simple thing to think how pretty she looked adorned in sunset’s colors. Shining brightly in its radiance, a look that caught the eyes and made them feel this unknown fluttering within.

What was it? What was this feeling?

Thus did it continue in frequency. Between gift giving to see her smile, to outright saving her in a daring situation… that flame grew hungry for more. Greedy even as it yearned to be beside this girl even when the call for duty led to him traveling the farthest distance away from her person. Still it persisted. Still he selfishly called out to her in need of her attention in loneliest of moments.

Distance ever had a habit of bringing that desire for want of companionship. The longer the absence, the deeper the need to meet again. And when that moment came at long last… so too did each other’s confession. What should have been obvious to anyone else looking in from the outside, completely oblivious to the pair until that moment.

It was bound to happen and so it did. This was no longer simply friendship. Blossoming love for one another had ignited in truth which began an even greater journey: for two young lovebirds to truly make plain how they felt for one another and to grow into such a role. A secret relationship for none to know about save themselves.

No matter what trials nor tribulations came their way, they faced it together. From simple dates to having each other’s back in terms of battle and comfort. From fighting the doubts that lingered within from their decisions, to falling for one another and moving the bases one step at a time… all at their own, slow-burning pace.

Years upon years passed by so quickly before their eyes. They couldn’t imagine their lives without the other, where they might be had they not met in the circumstances that they had. What of their future, they sometimes wondered? And indeed, they were making slow steps towards a future of their own making once world’s end was postponed indefinitely. Suddenly they had all the time in the world to make their moves and that first thing was moving in together at long last. That which finalized the plan Pipin determined himself to fulfill: It was high time to make his intentions known loud and clear.

It always felt like such an unattainable dream of theirs. Something that didn’t seem to be in the stars nor worth pursuing, given everything else that’s always gone on the wayside. But this… he wouldn’t let anything else steal this moment from him. Straight from the heart, unpracticed and vulnerable, he spilled that which had been on his mind since most recent return.

“I cannot imagine my lie without you as my guiding star. Where hearth and home has always been by your side why I needed you most. Or when I yearn for you from thousands upon thousands of malms apart. I counted myself lucky once before. And now I would consider myself the luckiest man of all after meeting you…”

As sappy and unsteady as could be, still he let it all out. “I’d like for you to be mine. As eternally bonded souls, to be my beloved…”

She only nodded. And nodded and nodded and nodded, countless times, before giving in to quiet weeping with so shining a smile on her face. “I will always be yours. And you should you be mine too… eternally… I don’t think I could ever be happier.”

At long last, the fuse had found its end and ignited their fires anew. Their hearts would become one and their journey would only continue on for a lifetime to come. No more hiding. No more shame. And so they would vow… to spend eternity after eternity with souls bound.

#ffxivwrite2022 #ffxivwrite #FFXIV #writing #pipdede

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