#but the POINT (one of them) of fanfiction is the MISSING SCENES

[halflingkima]

recent google searches: how to gently explain to booktokkers that i don't disregard their fravorite "smut" bc i'm a prude, but bc it's bad writing

[inumakis-boo]

TOGE INUMAKI ⟢. ݁₊⋆.˚ ༘♡˚

fanfiction synopsis ␥ you and toge inumaki are both in your third year of jujustu high, but youve barely spent a moment alone yet. when you do on a saturday night, you realize exactly why you need to "hang out" more // aka, the first step to being friends with benefits.. hooking up the first time.

word count - 4,629 // hope you enjoy! tw obviously.

You would have never guessed how this night would end, compared to its beginning. Like something you would have read in a terrible booktok novel with its cliches and tropes- but you could have never understood how even cliches, imitate life.

It was finally Saturday night, and all of the second and third years sat in Itadori’s room, with the dim blue LED lights circling them, and posters of clad women on the wall to give off the perfect teenage boy aesthetic. Some game was going on the TV and both Itadori and Nobara had been occupying everyone's attention with their shouting and cheers as they fought on screen.

You didn’t know exactly how or why or when, someone had swiped a bottle of something, and now it lay on the mats on the floor, empty with a broken seal. At least everyone had gotten more than a few sips of the fire in the bottle, and you struggled to swallow it, but you still smiled after and laughed. It made the stress of training on the body at least feel a little better as your fingertips buzzed.

Nobody checked the time, and everyone laid out on his bed, on the floor, on the desk and chair. It wouldn’t be too much of a problem- all the teachers would be gone for the weekend. After all, they were all old enough that Satoru Gojo wouldn’t have to babysit constantly, right?

They sat, comfortably then, letting the TV be loud and the shouting obnoxious.

It had taken you awhile to notice, but one member had been missing for the last few minutes with no explanation. You double-checked the room and did not see the violet-eyed boy sitting anywhere. He had last taken a few sips of the bottle and beat Itadori in a game, before at some point dipping for.. whatever reason.

Perhaps he had gotten sick or was fetching something? You decided to go check it out. You silently got up off the floor and didn’t pay much attention as everyone laughed at Itadori dying for the 7th time tonight.

The hallway was darker than usual, but it was probably too late anyway. Moonlight shone through the panes of the window, their crossed shapes decorating the hardwood down the hall, each window revealing the silky glow from the outside. Your eyes followed down and caught to one pattern disturbed.

You follow it up and see the one you were checking on, leaning on the window sill, soaking up the moonlight. It glimmered against the pale skin of his face but did not fade the marks around his mouth.

You slowly walk over, and he tears his eyes from the scene towards you and smiles a little. Instinctually, he pulls out his phone.

“You look happy.” You remark, and his smile grows as he types into the notes app.

// Just felt like walking around, but seeing you here is better. //

You were familiar with his real personality beyond the curse lodged in his throat, the silly and rather typical teenage boy attitude in everything he did. But for some odd reason, it was seeing it face to face was a difference. You had only maybe a few conversations with him before over text, and while you trained together in class, didn’t mean you were used to him yet.

// Something happen? //

“Nah.” You lean on the sill with your body, feeling the open breeze come in. “You're not missing anything.”

He just smirks with a little head shake, and his eyes that had met yours look back to the sill.

// I won’t keep you here, //  He types as you look over. // I should be back soon. //

“I’m not in a rush to watch Megumi and Itadori argue about the game rules again.” You smile and snicker. “Out here is nice.”

// Not surprised about that at all // He snickers aloud, // I would like company. //

The moonlight and the random liquor someone brought must have been messing with your senses- He felt welcoming and charming, and in this space, it was more private than anywhere else.

“You had plenty of company in there.” You bring it up, but he just shrugs. Perhaps he wasn’t asking for that kind of head-ache-inducing company.

He scrolled up again to the first note.

// ..it is better seeing you here.//

What was happening with your stomach? It was like something was bubbling up, in a good way. He gazed with an interested eye. and you tried to hold back a dopey grin.

He turns to face away from the window and stretches. You watch him turn back to you, his face now in the dark of the hall. He types-

//I am going to go back to my room, wanna me to walk you back to everyone else?//

“W-What?” You stutter embarrassingly, then clear your throat- “Nono, you don’t have to. It is only down the hall. Let me walk you instead.”

Ah, his smile was so genuine, and he brushed back his hair for a moment before shrugging. A visual okay.

You begin to walk with Him down the silver halls, cusping your hands in yours, watching as you walk in step, his dorm slippers on with his casual sweatpants and navy t-shirt. He wanted to be comfortable- it wasn’t even the first time you had seen him in casual clothes.. although it was more of a rare sight to not see his mouth covered.

You blindly follow him to his room, your eyes catching peeks of his face. He still looked like he did last year according to school photos, but his jaw was more defined, and of course, his inky markings had always made themselves apparent. You thought they were interesting, like any tattoo or scar.

His eyes look at you curiously, and you realize you're just staring at him and look away. You don’t look back, even though he brushes his arm against yours. He had little words to say, yet had better social skills than anybody here. It didn’t feel awkward though, it was just a little new. You hadn’t really noticed him before.. nor had you noticed him noticing you.

Both of you arrived at his dorm room, a little wood plaque around his doorknob that was a gift, a salmon emoji that had been painted for him hung there. It was cute, and you watched it as the door opened.

Toge stepped into his room and didn’t bother to flick on the lights, the full moon shining right through his windows. You couldn’t see much but you could smell him from outside of the room, a mix of his shampoo and cologne- fresh and warm. It almost pulled you in.

He turned after he kicked off his slippers, coming back to the door with his notes presented still.

// We should hang out more often. I think you're fun. //

You shake your head with a laugh. How did he come to that conclusion?

“We didn’t even do anything..!” You laugh, rubbing your arms. Toge returns to his phone. “How would you know?”

// Yeah but, I have my reasons, don’t I? Maybe I have a feeling. //

Okay, maybe your knees had good reason to be weak. Was he flirting? His face seemed to say so.

And.. what could happen if you tested the waters? You hadn’t ever flirted with many people before but.. he was just a friend, right?

You look down the hall and bite your lower lip with a smile. “What kind of feeling?”

It is his turn to look away, leaning against the door frame. He is trying to not smile too hard, you can see.

“Are you feeling like.. we should hang out sooner than later?"

You were wondering if others had drunk more than you had, and according to his eyes, sizing you up, you had an inkling that he might've had just enough to not fear with his expressions. If he was truly cautious, he would be covering his mouth, right?

And according to the feeling between your legs, you had little filter to worry about.

He took a step once, then twice until your chests were practically meeting, and he looked like he had already decided what he wanted, and was bold about it. While your heart was still beating, even if rapidly, you wouldn’t stop until you figured him out.

Of course, he typed with one hand by your side, then presented.

// I am feeling like you are curious about me like I am curious about you, and I wanna see more. Only if you wanna. //

He had read you like a book. You licked your lips and sighed, looking up at him. His hair had been pushed back some since he arrived at his dorm, and the warmth from his body mixed with his cologne was driving you nuts. You wondered how toned he was under these clothes- and wondered if he thought about you the same way.

“If you're so curious..” Your hand slipped onto his pec- firm and warm. “How about you come find out?”

That would do it- one smirk and another step and his lips were pressing against yours. So softly at first, but once your hand had slowly crept up his neck and pulled him just a tad closer, you could feel the intensity rise, his tongue running across your lips and into your open mouth, hands running up and down your hips, never pulling you further but always closer.

Then you could feel him moving back and pulling you with him. You were still in the hallway outside of his dorm, after all. You accepted it- and had no room to even protest. He was too good of a kisser and knew exactly how to take control, not much of a surprise there.

By the time you had started paying attention again, you heard the decoration on his door tap on the door as it closed shut, and realized vaguely you were in a dark room with his boy that just moments ago, considered nothing more than friendly with.

How far this was going to go or fear of being caught was honestly the last thing on your mind. He had reiled you up and at this point, he could have anything he asked for. He wanted to know, he needed to know.

You let his tongue slip into your mouth as his hands run underneath your shirt, his hands on your skin sending you even more haywire. It was addictive, and you were determined to make the same reaction out of him- if not better.

You let your fingers curl in his hair, pushing him forward more, his warm sigh against your cheek telling you how much he was enjoying this. He deserved it, for being so nice to you, and coming onto you like that, making you feel so nervous and witty. You let him guide you to somewhere in his room, and suddenly you can feel the edge of something behind your ass. You were slightly pinned to the end of his bed frame, just enough to keep you from running away.

His knee slowly dragged between the gap of your legs, and the proximity made you sigh in appreciation. He hummed, yet didn’t dare leave your lips. He was being so explorative, passionately involved in every toss of your tongue in your mouth and every patch of skin he touched. His fingertips were dragging across your flesh, and the entire time you could barely keep yourself sane enough to touch him back.

But you did- starting at his navel, just to make him sigh through his nose as his kisses traveled from your mouth to your neck and ear, the brush of his face and lips making you want to squirm with delight. Then, the palm of your hand, just teasing enough, palmed his firm abs, defined so perfectly that you could imagine them in your dreams just by touch alone- but here you were, touching his so wantingly. Your fingertips, like his, grazed so temptingly across his obliques, feeling their tightness and the rumble in his chest easily.

At this point, his shirt was bunching at your wrists, and as a final act of teasing, simply made a motion to pull it up, and meeting violet eyes as he did could’ve made you sink to your knees at a moment. His eyes were lidded and needy, and his lips were pinker with friction, and you could only imagine if he was the type to leave marks behind.

The white shirt had been tossed, maybe on his desk chair, he clearly hadn’t cared where it ended up, because he was too busy doing the exact same to you. You wouldn’t even break eye contact, wouldn’t dare, as his hands sat right below your bra, and could feel the urge in his grip to just take it off right then and there.

Maybe helping his urges wouldn’t be so bad, right?

You took his hand, and encouraged the back of his, allowing him to sneak under the wire and squeeze your perky tits, watching his eyes return to yours as he squeezed on his own.

There was no way you were returning to your dorm room tonight.

Next thing you knew, your bra wire was sitting right near the top of your breasts as he had leaned down, holding his head as he licked and sucked on the hard nipples, rolling one in the other hand. It was erotic, watching his tongue, marked with the scar of his curse, flicking your cute buds to make your body jello in his hands. It was extremely hot, and you knew that these panties were going to be ruined by the time you let him tear them off of you.

Speaking of underwear, you forced his head to lay next to your neck, returning his lower half to be in your grasp, and immediately got to work palming at the other. He sure was enjoying that attention, letting you fondle your smaller hand against his clothed thickness, shuttering at the idea of sitting right on it. The lewd thoughts were going a mile a minute, and you weren’t planning on stopping.

He continued to pull at your sensitive little buds as you fondled him, his breath becoming heavy against your neck as you thoroughly got an idea of what to expect- but hands wandered on his side, and you knew that his long fingers were not going to be idle much longer. His entire hand curled around your mound over your sweatpants, and the pressure in his fingertips along your pantied slit was driving you nuts.

But, with bra abandoned on the floor, he moved you with his hand still on your crotch to the side of the bed, his forehead against yours as he switched places and sat down first, then brought you into his lap.

You could tell he was not going to be rough in manhandling you, just simply moving you just to better fit his need to touch you, and the touch alone was enough to make it obvious how wet you were- and he became very aware the moment he dragged down the band of your sweatpants to reveal the heat of your pussy, throbbing with need for any kind of friction, by anything.

You could hear the hum in his throat, the holding back of a groan as he touched the lace of your underwear and found it moist, clearly satisfied with all that had been hidden before. You could feel the grind of his cock against your ass as he leaned back more into the headboard and pillows, making your torso almost barely sit up, while your legs were pulled apart so easily by setting them on opposite sides of his own knees. You were so bare, and his fingers trailing around your clit, throbbing with need, was enough to make you moan into the air, your chest rising with the lighting going through you.

“Be quiet.” The command shot through you instantly, and your mouth closed, only faint whimpers lodged in your throat managing to make any noise- anyone could hear, of course, it was late.

But no- that was only one half of the coin. The other half was being able to hear the gushing noises as he softly slapped your wet folds, just enough to hear it, and being forced to hear how needy you had become. His other hand held your jaw close to his neck, and let you cover your whimpers there. You moved your ass against his length just below, but he wasn’t done here.

One finger had slipped in so easily with all the lubrication gushing out of you, but the second dreadful finger had entered so achingly slow, pushing your insides slowly apart as he made a few experimental pumps before sinking them deep and curling, slow at first then faster and faster.

You weren’t going to make it like this. You were bound to cum, splayed out like a breeding slut for him, taking his fingers as he fucks you so earnestly, and sighs and grunts like he is fucking you, all the while not even having the pleasure to groan out yourself- only forced to hear how much your pussy needed his cock soon, and by soon, you meant thirty minutes ago, out in the hall way in the moonlight outside of Itadoris bedroom.

“Haah..” He grazed your ridges so slowly that you almost came, his thumb flicking your swollen clit too many times to count. He was too good at this.

You couldn’t handle it anymore- it was either you were going to cum here, or he would fuck you. Or both. Hopefully both.

Your fingertips grab onto his waist band and try to pull it down, but the angle is hard and you almost grow frustrated. He only bites his lip, forces your head so he can kiss you, and drags his own pants down, lifting both of you up to do so briefly.

Your first contact with his cock is when it slaps against your wet folds, the tip of his dick just brush so teasingly against your slit that you can barely imagine how you would somehow fit it in your throat eventually (hopefully, eventually, if she made it out alive.)

Now he was gasping, the mix of the delicate heat on his shaft, the wetness leaking from your needy hole, and his tiphead rubbing against your clit was even driving him insane. His hands were bruisingly gripping your waist, keeping you still as he slides up and down, shifting his hips to graze his tip all around your folds.

“P-Please, Toge-” You manage out when he gets weaker, your watery eyes and whimpering tone catching his ear immediately. “I want y-you to fuck me.”

He wouldn’t resist that kind of plea, not when he himself wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last- fuck it, he would use his curse to go longer if he needed too, as long as he was buried inside your cunt when it happened.

You felt it, instantly as the tip of his cock buried slowly into your hole, finally, stretching so good you were ready to about give up and let him take you anyway he wished. He was not going to let that happen though, you had to witness it all, how good he was laying it down.

The shaft went deeper and deeper until you felt the tip graze your delicate cervix, even with this much preparation, you still knew it was going to be bruised tomorrow morning. Fuck it, what did you care. Toge Inumaki was going to fuck you, and hearing his whimpering as he finally hit his base against your folds was like music to your ears.

He pumped it in, slowly and surely, until the pumps couldn't be timed anymore as he was, becoming steady thrusts into your creaming cunt that the hand on your jaw moved to your lips to block any noise from escaping.

God, his cock was so perfectly heavy just enough to burn your entrance as he entered over and over again, and perfectly long to make you groan into the palm of his hand as he slams it into you. It was too erotic the noise, what was the point of even covering your voice? Between his huffing and the squelching, it would be instantly noticeable to anyone outside the door.

Yet, he fucked your pussy until you could feel all the wetness gather at the base, dripping down his shaft. He didn’t even care beyond holding your mouth in his palm to conceal the noise.

But, he wasn’t done yet. No.. one final trick.

“Sit up and face me.” He whispered, and thank goodness you did not resist whatsoever to spare his voice, already so weak, you found yourself slipping his fat cock out of your needy cunt, and turning around, watching him readjust himself to look at you.

Yep, as expected. Face nothing more than a filthy reaction, dimmed and teary eyes, bitten lips, and red-got ears and cheeks, followed by cute red marks all along your neck, just enough to match your pink, toyed nipples against your pale skin, and finally, hand marks to go right along with glistening folds, already drooling all over the cock in his hand, directed right at your hole.

His hair had long since been pushed back, and his cheeks and lips were the same hue of red, his chest sweaty from bearing your heat on it as he fucked you on your back against it, and finally, silvery hair trimmed right at the base of his hard cock which throbbing and beading with precum.

“Sit on it, like a good girl.”

You had no inclination to do otherwise, feeling the tip enter you again, but this time, so much deeper than you knew another could go. It spreaded you out perfectly, watching as he got a perfect view of your hole, stretched around his dick while your tits sat prettily on your chest, hands stabilizing you on his hips.

You sat fully on it, your insides spazzing as it throbbed inside you, and you watched his face as he relished in the feeling, so completely trying to hold back from the display in front of him.

You wanted him to tell you exactly what to do- you were going to be his plaything tonight, no matter how much embarrassment you would feel in the morning, you were addicted to the idea of this man find every weak spot inside you, and letting him do exactly what he wanted.

He got the memo very fast.

“Bounce up and down, baby.” He whispered again, and your thighs moved, allowing you up and down on his shaft with ease. Even the burning in your thighs had disappeared, thanks to his order. You let his cock pump into your the first few time, watching as he tilted his head back to feel the bare heat, the friction of your ridges inside of you dragging across his head and shaft constantly.

You didn’t tire of watching him, not of him holding your hips and guiding you even though his words had done enough, not tiring of watching his eyes roll back, his mouth opening to moan aloud, his abs squeezing as he control his abdomen from reacting. It was your turn to watch him fall apart, and with all the foreplay with your tits and clit, you thought it well-deserved, if not vengeful.

You gained confidence as you rode him, hearing the slickness coat your thighs then meeting his, creating a sound so erotic it would get you both kicked out of jujutsu high, but you didn’t care when you grabbed his hands from your waist and let them grope at your tits, watching his eyes dilate with the motion of them moving in his hands. It went right to your abdomen as you felt his fingers pull at your already tender nipples.

You weren’t ever going to be the same after this- of course, you fooled around briefly before you joined the third years before Jujustu High, being a late bloomer, but this was going to be part of every wet dream, every shower spent with your fingers deep in your holes, would be about this moment, with his eyes grazing over you like he had a million things to say and command, and you're expected (and will) obey every single one, simply because he could fuck you to the point that you hoped he cummed right inside of you.

The very thought was going to make you explode, right on the base of his cock, you were going to lose all control, and nothing but his words were going to stop it.

But he was waiting for the perfect time- no, he wanted to cum with you, at the same moment, wanted you to cream right inside you as you creamed on him. He was going to make you remember this night, when you discovered all of him.

The sickening slaps had increased, and the effect of his words had worn off, but you didn’t care. The feeling of your g-spot being constantly rubbed into, fucked into, was all that mattered. His hands abandoned your tits for now, and instead, settled right on your face, and brought you down to kiss him. Now, it was his turn.

He trusted his hips deep in your cunt, and if nobody knew you two were fucking, somebody probably knew now. The dick was simply too good to even speak, feeling your lips wet with drool as he kissed you, your tongue being eagerly played with as he entered your mouth. He wanted you to go insane- he refused to be the only one.

Finally, he pressed your forehead against his, with both of your sweaty bodies rubbing together as he fucked your cunt easily with a flick of his hips, your moans and breath sharing the same space between your faces, he couldn’t resist any more. Not any longer could he hold out, now when you looked so prettily drunk on sex.

“I want you to cum.” He managed in a guttural demand. “Right now.”

The squeeze of your walls finally killed him as your racked out a deliciously loud moan turned whine, his hot cum shooting right into your clenching pussy as you leaked all over him, twitching and stuttering and faltering, head meeting his chest and neck as she came hard, right where she wanted to the most.

He holds you with both arms around your back, giving slowing thrusts into your sensitive cunt, tits and chest heaving against his as your whimper and whine, until he finally comes to a stop, and with the missing of friction, comes out his hard cock, and the load dripping onto his navel that he had buried deep inside you.

You were delirious with sex, completely and utterly spent as you panted against his chest, feeling his breath match yours so perfectly it was calming your brain down. You couldn’t stop twitching though, and you didn’t know if and when you would stop.

“Breathe..” He whispered, using probably the last of his energy to calm you down. Of course, it works, and you can feel yourself take a deep breath and release it with a shuttering take.

“Is it okay.. if I stay?”

You could hear the soft noise of him tapping a screen.

// To hang out? //

You smiled weakly, and lifted up a finger to type back.

// yes pls. //

Thank you all for reading! I had rewritten this, it was supposed to much more vague but.. i like this better.

anyways, @inumakisser and @nectardaddy this is for you pookies, i promised fr to deliver.

see ya later!

[purplephloxpress]

Another year, another Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day!!!! If you are a writer of fanfic, please know just how appreciated you are!! Fandom would be such a different space without your creativity and labors of love. 💜

Holidays are all about making traditions, and the bookbinding friends with @renegadeguild once again came together to bind copies of fics for their authors as a show of our appreciation. This year I had the absolute joy of binding Emergency Help Wanted by the wonderful @piyo-13 and even got to collaborate with her on some of the design elements! It's a Modern AU Jiang Cheng/Lan Xichen fic that starts with a "help wanted" ad.

EMERGENCY HELP WANTED

I lied when I got my job. I told them I had a kid so I could leave early from work to pick him up from daycare, take him to doctor's appointments, and occasionally miss a day when he's sick. Long story short, I'm in too deep. I didn't think it through. Looking to rent a kid for bring your child to work day. Must be a boy ages four to six, longish dark hair, likes soccer. Must also be artistic as the macaroni noodle paintings I made seem a little advanced for his age. Also, I will pay extra for someone willing to play the role of husband when dropping him off. He's a prosecuting attorney who often brings his work home. Message me for further details. Serious inquiries only.

Ok. So. I may have gone a little feral with this one. Online "help wanted" ad spiraled into loading wheel scene dividers, spiraled into fake Google search result headers, spiraled into FULLY committing to those authentic looking text messages. In full color. (There are so many. I typeset in MS Word. It was SO worth it, but god what a struggle at some points.) And don't forget the "recent searches" title page! Or the computer cutout on the cover! (It's bluescreening, just like Lan Xichen through this entire fic!) Also that cover/title page image that I just kept adding details to. (It's supposed to be Lan Xichen's desk, so it simply didn't feel right until it had sticky notes on the computer, #1 dad on the mug, scissors and measuring tape, scribbles on the sticky notes) Did I have a ton of fun designing this one? Perhaps. Couldn't say. Maybe just a tad. (This is a lie I had an ABSOLUTE BLAST!)

Historically, I've waited until I finish at least the typeset before reaching out to the author, but not so with this one! I got the idea for the fake google search results from Piyo's authors notes, teasing the contents of the next chapter. But! Those didn't start until about chapter 4! So I reached out and asked if we could collaborate and I'm forever glad I did! Not only does this have teasers for each chapter, I also got to bounce design ideas off of her, including what shade of blue and purple for the text messages. Because my friends, that is a serious matter and changed SEVERAL times throughout the process.

Also shoutout to all my Renegade friends who gave input and encouragement over the past year while I worked on this (what endpages to use? how to make this shade of green perfectly Nie Huaisang? how do we feel about this text message design? or how about this one?) - I love you all dearly and appreciate you so much for putting up with my nonsense at all times.

Binding details below the cut!

Fandom: The Untamed/Mo Dao Zu Shi

Pairing: Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin / Lan Huan | Lan Xichen

Bookcloth: Aqua/Purple Dubletta from Colophon Book Arts

Endpapers: Craft Consortium Ink Drops - Ocean pack

Textblock paper: short grain cream from Church Paper

Titling: We R Memory Keepers foil quill

Endbands: leather cording core, DMC embroidery floss for the bands

Body Font: EB Garamond

Title Font: Berlin Sans FB

Text Messages: Roboto

Additional fonts: Times New Roman, Kunstler Script, Magis Authentic

Title page image from Rawpixel and designed in Canva

Various computer graphics from The Noun Project

Tumblr insists on eating and doubling text in this section at its own whim, so if there's something missing that you're curious about, feel free to DM me an ask!

[revelboo]

Rambles/ clarification of my nonsense

• I just wanted to go ahead and clarify something before you guys make the connection between the TF One Megatron fic and the latest Thundercracker bit and start asking. First off, I have a fated mate series I write. I do love that trope, but I have an issue with how it’s handled sometimes so I will gently poke fun at it from time to time.

• I don’t like the insta-love eyes meeting across a room and falling hopelessly in love that some novels incorporate. I prefer love/affection to be earned over time through actions. Insta-love always comes across to me as losing a piece of yourself to another person, losing free will. Instant attraction or lust? I can work with that, tie it to a sense of belonging that keeps dragging you into that person’s gravity whether you want to be there or not. Just because it’s fated doesn’t mean it’s perfect or easy. I want the characters to clash, to fight that sense of need and maybe even resent that bond at first. Slowly building up trust and getting to know each other.

• If I write more TF One characters, I’ll probably use fated mates in that universe because I’m a gremlin and I like writing conflict. I wouldn’t mind writing that version of Starscream, B127, or Optimus Prime at some point.

• This blog started as a venting space. I needed to work on manuscripts, but I was so burnt out and my usual tactic of just swapping to a different project wasn’t working. I’d open the documents and just stare at the screen in dread. So, I wrote a silly little Starscream snippet, because I used to write fanfiction on FFN years ago under a different handle. And I missed writing silly, self indulgent nonsense that didn’t have to be perfect. The quick bullet point snippets I do are actually how I quickly get scenes down to expand later.

• I only meant to make a few characters and scenarios and then go back and start fleshing them out like a properly formatted story. Then you guys started asking questions, asking about different characters. So I just kept going, because I honestly missed writing for fun, for myself. Nothing serious, just telling a story to amuse myself. I needed an outlet for the stress and this is it.

• So, thank you guys so much. I’ll keep these going as long as folks want to read them, because I really did miss the Transformers community. There’s a sense that when you swap to professionally writing, you’re not supposed to keep doing the fanfiction stuff. You’re supposed to grow up and just write novels, nothing else. And that’s why I stopped ten years ago, but this makes me happy. I can do both and it’s not like I follow normal writing rules anyway. I’ve been told my writing can be too visceral, too much like a stream of consciousness instead of a literary work. That used to bother me, but that ship’s not only sailed, it caught on fire and sank with no survivors. Never been great at following rules anyway.

• And maybe someone else needs to hear that. You don’t have to stop what you enjoy because it’s ’unprofessional.’ Keep it separate, but keep doing it if it makes you happy. It shouldn’t be a trade off.

[inawickedlittletown]

No Queerbaiting Here

A long time ago…I’m talking May of 2021, I wrote a meta post about queerbaiting. Essentially an essay. I wrote it right before the S4 finale of 9-1-1 aired because I was frustrated by Buddie fans calling Queerbait entirely like the boy that cried wolf. I still stand by it. Sort of. 

Now, even back then I was pretty clear about how 50/50 I was on Buddie ever going canon. (Maybe not in that post but certainly elsewhere) But, I shipped Buddie then and wrote a lot of fic and meta and participated in fandom. I never said it couldn’t happen…I just would never be bothered if it didn’t.

Where we stand now: It’s not going to happen. 

And where I stand now: fully immersed in Bucktommy. And what’s more, I am more than perfectly happy about Buck and Tommy staying together and going the long-run. Although I can still look at Buddie and think it’s a cute ship, I just don’t want it in canon. I would not be satisfied if the show went that way. But what’s more if Buck and Tommy don’t work out, that would be disappointing, but I’d be okay as long as they got to be happy. There is, after all, always fanfiction. 

So, I wanted to revisit this concept a bit now that Buck has been confirmed as Bisexual and now that he is in a relationship with a man. Not Eddie. Tommy. And somehow, some Buddie fans are still crying queerbait because their ship is not canon. That’s not how it works. Also…shipping works outside of canon, that’s the whole point of shipping. 

To reiterate from my original post on queerbaiting, here’s the definition from wikipedia:

“Queerbaiting is a marketing technique for fiction and entertainment in which creators hint at, but then do not actually depict, same-sex romance or other LGBTQ representation. They do so to attract a queer or straight ally audience with the suggestion of relationships or characters that appeal to them, while at the same time attempting to avoid alienating other consumers.” 

Here’s where I stand: Buddie was abandoned a long time ago. If it was ever a real possibility, we won’t ever know. What we do know is that Oliver was aware that at one point he had given them the go-ahead to make Buck Bi. Whether this was by putting Buck and Eddie together or having Buck realize this another way, we just don’t know that. We don’t have that information and nor will it probably ever be provided to us. Narratively, I know that a lot of fans figured the timing of it fit with S4 and that particular finale but we really just don’t know despite what happened in the finale.

I found that interesting looking back at my own post from back then and the discussion that followed where some fans felt that the way the finale went would determine if Buddie would be another queerbait ship. (I think most people agreed after the will scene that it wasn’t queerbait because it did leave a kernel of hope that Buddie might still happen). 

And yeah, I guess you could argue that the network deciding not to go the route of a queer storyline points to missed opportunity. That doesn’t then mean that any queerbaiting occurred or that any fans are owed anything just because something that was set up or that the writers were writing towards was then scrapped by the network. Is it a shame that it didn’t happen in whatever way they wanted to play it out, sure, but only because Buck would have been confirmed queer earlier. In the same vein isn’t it nice that we have a confirmed Bisexual Buck now? That the show managed to bring it back to that.

A Buck that is happy and free and that has realized something so monumental about himself? Isn’t it nice that all the queer coding that Buck as a character has received since the start of the show is actually finally not just queer coding but full on character development? That we can look back at the show and see all the things Buck did around other men for exactly what they were. 

When Tommy first returned to 9-1-1 in S7, I think a lot of us were excited by the spoilers about Buck and Tommy because of Bi Buck, but also because this was the thing that could lead to Buddie. 

And then…then Tommy was actually on my screen and I doubted it. I actually thought maybe the spoilers were wrong and this was about Eddie and Tommy? That episode flipped things in such an expertly way that by the time Tommy and Buck were sharing a kiss for the first time I was right there with Buck. On a second watch, it is all there. Buck was never jealous because his friend was ignoring him. He was jealous because his best friend had the attention of the guy whose attention he wanted for himself. The writing on that was perfect and no amount of twisting it can change what happened on screen. 

Buck was not jealous because of Eddie. Tommy was never interested in more than friendship with Eddie. And Buck and Tommy have nothing to do with Buddie. Tommy is not a stepping stone, a way for Buck to be ready to then embark on a relationship with Eddie. That’s both disrespectful to Tommy and Buck, but just not what the story being told on the show is doing. 

The storyline is monumental. Having a big strong guy, a firefighter, figure out his sexuality in his thirties is such good storytelling and add to that Tommy. Someone that we already know, who already works as a first responder, and who can show up and wow Buck in such a way that he realizes something about himself? This is what I’ve always wanted. Because guess what, Buck never questioned his sexuality before this. Not when he met Eddie and not when he met anyone else, not until Tommy. 

Going into the new season we know a few things and one of those is that Buck and Tommy are thriving. The media coverage talks about them as a solid couple, it talks about Buck having someone to turn to and complain to. It talks about how they are still in the getting to know each other phase and I love that for them. I love how they are being treated and described and I can’t wait to see what plays out for them and how much of the build up of their relationship we may get to actually see. 

Do you know what the media and the show never talked about outwardly like this? Buddie. Whenever it came up it was always brushed aside in a way that was respectful to fans and what they saw, but without ever confirming or hinting that the show would ever go there. They never queerbaited anyone with Buddie, what they have done is say “yeah…we know what you see” and then turned around and given us a Buck and Eddie friendship and Buck kissing Tommy, going on a date with Tommy, and thriving with Tommy. 

So, no queerbaiting here on the show where half of the major canon pairings are queer. It’s actually more like some fans baiting other fans with theories and headcanons that just don’t fit.

[cod-imagines-fanfiction]

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend (1.6k words part 4)

Summary: Valeria breaks into the headquarters of the Mexican Army in search of her wife.

TW: implied sexual violence, violence more generally (and Google Translated Mexican Spanish)

Note: I'm back from my home country y'all and free to write gay fanfiction once again. I'm working on the next part ASAP but I wanted to post this because you guys have been waiting forever. Thank you for all the lovely comments and the interactions!! means a lot to me that you guys enjoy reading this :>

Link to A03 Link to part 1, part 2, part 3. Next part: part 5

'Army soldier' was more than a type of occupation, more than any other job title; it was a lifestyle. It is truly a different way of life, a way of life that most people are simply not built for. A soldier's form - their straight back, their way of taking in the world around them within a second, their way of assessing everything as either hostile or neutral, their battlefield instinct - it all became an inseparable part of who they are. There is a certain instinct that gets drilled into soldiers, the instinct to act immediately and fast. The instinct to not think twice about running into danger. It is triggered immediately and triggered intensely. So when the emergency siren at the Mexican Army Headquarters wailed, the whole place came alive. No time was wasted before troops placed themselves in position. Snipers grabbed their rifles and headed for the rooftops, Captains and sergeants tuned into their mics, barking orders to their subordinates, assembling their troops as quickly as possible. Guards ran to their posts and pilots rushed to where their aircraft were getting readied by flying personnel, prepared to take off to gain an advantage in the airfield and a much-needed vantage point of what was happening. The armoury opened as many hands reached within for ammo and other equipment.

From the outside, it was a perfect scene of military efficiency and readiness. But from the inside, anxiety bubbled, threatening to cut loose.

"Why did this have to happen today of all days?" A soldier grumbled as he tightened his weapon belt.

"Someone planned this. It's the most popular day for annual leave," another responded as he grabbed his shoes.

"Dia de los Muertos," the first one said, his voice low and grim.

The Day of the Dead. Celebrated annually around November 1st but spanning over the course of multiple days. A day of celebration for life and death, a day to pay respects to those who have passed on. A time of parades on squares and community gatherings, with crowds of people in traditional costumes and painted faces taking to the streets to rejoice with others. A time when many troops were stationed outside the headquarters for public safety. A time, therefore, of relatively little staff being left behind to man the fort.

It was so perfect, Valeria almost giggled as she withdrew her knife from someone's body and let them drop to the floor.

She had infiltrated the headquarters from the underground tunnels that connected to some fields further out, which were created to be used in emergencies but had been long forgotten over the years. These were the same tunnels she took many years back when she wanted to see you on a day that she hadn't booked off. She would wait until most of the barracks were asleep before slipping away in the shadows, passing the guards and quietly unscrewing the lid that separated the tunnels from the world above ground. It was even more exciting once she taught you when and where to wait for her, at the end of the tunnel, among greenery and orange trees. Among the fields that you would lay on for the rest of the night underneath your blanket, touching each other's bodies and talking to the stars. Whispering how badly you'd missed each other, hearing the hum of insects in between short gasps and warm moans. Now, she had unscrewed these same lids and stabbed the person in front of her, dragging them out and passing the body along to the staff that followed her. They dumped the body back in the fields. Part of her found it annoying that these tunnels were always standing between her and her wife. And yet there was some charm, too. Travelling the bowels of the Earth for her love.

Having officially stepped on ground owned by the Mexican Army, El Sin Nombre and her people spread like a virus, taking down certain key spots and hiding bodies. Not enough damage to create immediate alarm, but good enough progress to feel confident about the next step. Her heart sped up in excitement as she thought of her wife, who was only one building and a lock away from her. And right in front of that building, was him.

Valeria looked out from one of the windows and saw Alejandro standing with his back straight, his face possessing a deep scowl as he conversed with Rudolpho. It had been many years since she last saw him, which was nothing memorable. There was no goodbye, no farewell. She had simply gotten up in the middle of the night and gazed at his face one final time; he glistened beneath the moonlight. He was younger then, his face smoother, his voice gentler; not yet hardened. A mass of muscle on a standard issue Army bed, he was unaware that the woman he loved was slipping right through his fingers. Unaware that by the time he woke up, she'd be gone.

There'd be nothing left behind to prove that she even existed. All of her things just went missing alone with her. She didn't even leave a picture behind to immortalise their love, to have something to look at during those nights when his heart almost gave out, when he realised that he was starting to forget what she looked like. That he could no longer remember her voice. Now, as she looked at him, she wondered why they even started a relationship in the first place. He was attractive, sure, but nothing special. Not like the woman in the box.

He was older now, his face more wrinkled. Valeria was raised with the idea that in women, this quality had the same visual effect as decaying fruit. When Valeria looked in the mirror and saw her signs of age - the smile lines that wouldn't smooth out when her smile fell, the lines around her mouth that could not be covered by cosmetics, the wrinkles around her eyes - it reminded her of something that was starting to fade. But in men, the quality was different, more merciful. More like maturing. It enraged her to see him getting older. To see him in the exact same place that she left him. The memories attached to this place were too much to handle. Memories of her younger years kept materialising at the edge of her vision, like a trick of the light; a shadow figure that kept pursuing. It used to be her, out there in the yard. Talking with Alejandro and Rudy, passing along jokes during a long day. But right now it was just the two of them, talking with ease like she had never been there at all. And right at that moment, as she gazed down at them, the alarm went off. What a glorious opportunity to have a front-row seat to witness Alejandro's reaction once she pulled the rug from underneath his feet. There was no more time to waste. She forced herself to stop gloating at these shadows of the past and to move forward. With each step, she got closer to her wife, her sweetheart. Valeria felt weightless, she felt herself glide through the space between herself and Y/N. She would pause here and there to ensure she did not reveal herself to her enemies. At times, she stealthily murdered someone who could have easily been her roommate back when she was a cadet. But that was another lifetime, a lifetime of making the wrong friendships and choosing the wrong lovers. She wasted no time on these obstacles. At last, her hand encircled the handle of the container. She pushed her weight into it and entered, ready for anything. Be it to murder a guard, or to embrace her love; her instincts were on the front seat. She could kill a hundred men if it came to it.

“Valeria. Bienvenida.”

The metal door crashed into the threshold behind her, the echoes reverberating, she felt, for eternity. There was nothing beyond these metal walls anymore, the whole world went silent. The wrath that burned in her eyes met the hatred that dripped out of his. Darkness met darkness; loathing encircled within their dark glares like an ouroboros, its dark scales flashing where the light hit it. Valeria and Alejandro were a perfect mirror, they were tuned into the same frequency, a frequency of violence. They were built of the same clay; two destroyers meeting at last.

He was right in front of her, waiting. Standing tall and armed to the teeth, Colonel Alejandro Vargas. Her jealous ex-lover, the kidnapper of her wife, the annihilator of peace, the snake that infiltrated the garden. The evil eye incarnate. And here was she, the abandoner, the backstabber; the woman lover.

“Y/N.” Valeria spoke with steel in her voice.

“Is no longer with us, I’m afraid.” The lines of his mouth fell into a pout, feigning sadness. Mocking her. “She’s not a fighter, like you or me. You know what happens to the weak here,” he scoffed. “What was it that you used to say? That the weak exist to serve the strong and die? Yeah,” he said diabolically, a grin etching itself on his face. “That’s what happened.”

She knew he was lying; Y/N walked this earth still. She and her wife’s souls were so intertwined, Valeria would have felt it if her wife was gone. Y/N could never leave without her heart knowing. Valeria would put her hand through fire to prove her conviction.

“If I thought she was dead, I would have shot you on sight,” she said. Her hand gripped a blade tightly, willing herself to stop shaking.

Alejandro laughed. “Oh, I didn’t mean she was dead.” His gloved hands held onto his vest as he looked down at her. “I meant that your wife served me.”

Unable to contain her wrath any longer, Valeria lunged at him with a scream.

tag list: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit @00ops1e @lesvii @therapyneeds @lez-zuha @starre-eyes @7smexy7diva @hello-kitty-festival @konigmeu @cassiecasluciluce @gay-ass-country-boy @starwars-theclonewhore @bi-witch-bxtch @somnoslvt @ashthepillow @b3ns0ne  @idiotwrites @danart501 @deakyspuff @mistresssiri @angethehimbosimp

thanks for supporting me!!

[lxnarphase]

do you have any advice for new writers who want to start posting on tumblr?

Oh man, I'm gonna give you a list of things I wish I could've told myself when I first started posting.

Some Basic Tips:

Don't be scared to post! You'll never see growth in your followers, mutuals, and even your writing if you don't post!

Be open to asking others for help or advice if you struggle with writing. I sometimes ask some of my mutuals for help or read fanfiction to see how others write a scene. Then, I take the knowledge and write it in my own way. For example, I do well with writing dialogue but find myself always struggling with how to start the story.

Don't be afraid to post about non-writing things, too! Remember, you deserve to have fun on your account, so post what you want. You aren't a machine. You are a person!

The number of notes you get doesn't determine your worth or skill in writing. In my opinion, Tumblr has shifted a bit, making it harder for smaller writers to get likes, reblogs, or comments on their works.

But at the end of the day, in order to enjoy being a writing blog on Tumblr, you have to enjoy what you are writing and posting. Do not feel like you have to force yourself to write just for the numbers, let it happen naturally. Things will start out slow at first, as all things do, but you'll get to a point where you can barely keep up with things.

Post and Blog Formatting + Style:

Formatting is really important! Break up paragraphs, ask a friend to be a beta reader, and for longer works, go back and proofread if you have the time! It's okay if you have minor mistakes, though. I tend to miss things in my writing, and when I return a week later, I just fix them. No big deal!

Nowadays, aesthetics is HUGE for fanfiction posts and your account. Channel your creativity and style! Make your blog super pretty in your own way! It can be pink and cutesy, black and edgy, simple and clean, or colorful and cluttered! Don't have a blank blog!

PUT YOUR AGE CLEARLY SOMEWHERE! In your bio, pinned post, SOMEWHERE IT IS EASY TO SEE. I have had writing accounts follow me but no age, so I don't feel comfortable engaging with them.

You can take inspiration from other accounts (don't outright copy, though) on how they format their fanfictions. You will probably notice a lot of accounts have headers, dividers, or colored text. You can do that too, as it can catch the readers attention.

I get headers from doujins and mangas I read, websites such as Pinterest are good for cute ones, and Twitter is your go-to for more NSFW headers.

Create a tagging system to make navigating your blog easier, and have a pinned post with links to your rules/byf/masterlist/etc.

Try to put warnings in your writing. A lot of people have filters on to avoid the types of content they don't want to see, but there are the occasional people who don't put warnings in the writing post itself. It could be a simple tag or a list of themes at the beginning of the post.

An example would be a post with the tag #dubcon #tw dubcon OR putting "cw: dubcon" in the post itself before the writing itself.

This is a tag vs. in the actual post

Tagging and Reblogs

Speaking of tags, USE THE TAGGING SYSTEM! If you don't tag your post with popular fanfiction tags, it will be hard for people to find you.

Only the first twenty tags will show up in Tumblr search, including your own blog. Reblogs will not show up in tracked tags or searches.

However, don't feel bad for reblogging your own works again. Do it as many times as you want. You created something and should feel proud of it! I still reblog things from January just because.

Making Mutuals

Don't be afraid to engage with other accounts. That's how you make friends on here! But here's something important:

Be genuine. Make mutuals because you enjoy each other's work, AND both have fun talking with each other! If someone doesn't add you back as a mutual, that is okay; don't feel like they have something against you! Making mutuals shouldn't be your only goal when posting on Tumblr. Otherwise, you might tire yourself out mentally. It took me a while to make mutuals on here, but I'm glad it did it naturally instead of trying to force it.

Asks and Anons

Once you build a following, you will get the most wonderful, loving, and supportive anons in your inbox! Cherish them, respond to them, and have fun with them! Because there is a very high chance, you will also get assholes in your inbox.

I say this from the bottom of my heart but do NOT give hateful people your attention because that is what they thrive on. I still get them, but when I tell you I am at so much peace, I block and delete the messages and carry on.

If a certain message bothers me for a bit, then I just take a little break, talk to some friends about what happened, and do what helps me calm down so I don't act rashly. Don't be afraid to turn off anonymous messages for a while. This is YOUR blog, not theirs.

Don't feel pressured to answer every ask or fulfill every request. Take your time because that can burn you out! I love socializing so much, but sometimes I just pull a blank on how to respond to my asks. I always ensure my mutuals and followers know that I'm not ignoring them and just tend to go blank-brained with some asks, OR I save some of them to look at when I'm sad!

Overall, just start and DO IT FOR YOURSELF.

That's the best advice for when you want to make anything. You just have to start posting and learning and improving as you go on. Hopefully, this will sort of help. I know it's not the best list of advice, but it's just some things I would tell myself back when I first started.

If you have any other questions, I can try my best to answer them!

[amarmeme]

I finally finished the game last night and have a lot of thoughts/feelings left lingering about Lucanis/Rook. I know people have gone on and around on this already, but I am compelled by this fictional mess.

I don't even think we need more from Lucanis, but more from Rook, which is my takeaway from the game as a whole regardless of romance, but I would guess is most highlighted by his romance path in particular.

Spoilers below the cut.

Pretty much anything I have written or will write is going to include some degree of angst. It's my favorite brand of tension.

Case in point: my favorite Austen novel is Persuasion. If that shows anything, it's that I live for inner turmoil, quiet suffering, yearning, unspoken words, and two idiots in love.

I want to get my heart shredded until the love makes it whole. The Lucanis romance has the potential for this in spades, but the execution is just lacking and that's because we never go beyond surface with Rook's thoughts. It feels like this romance is supposed to carry on the backs of the players' imagination, which feels a bit cheap.

I've seen criticism of not enough from Lucanis and also defenses that he's been through A Lot so we shouldn't expect more. I'm actually past that. Yes, more scenes with Lucanis would have been great, but I actually want more scenes from Rook's perspective, even if alone, to fill in the strange gaps.

Before you lock in mechanically, imagine if you will, Rook having a reflective conversation with Varric, or in Varric's mirror. Rook asks if they are imagining a connection, or seeing into things.

What if Rook has a chance to speak with Neve, given she and Lucanis have a clear connection whether they get together or not? Or Harding, one of the other people who appear in Lucanis' mind prison?

I could see this continuing after the romance "locks in" -- companions comment on Lucanis looking happy, them being together, but what about Rook? If they're not ready to comment directly to Lucanis on what this really means to him (since they never kiss, touch, exchange soulful looks, etc.), Rook should be able to ask the companions what they have noticed/what they should do to advance things.

This comes down to my struggle with this game versus past Dragon Age games. It all boils down to the lack of interaction between Rook and others. If Rook could ask their colleagues questions rather than just listening to ambient conversations or helping further their personal quests, it would do so much to make this game as amazing as the past installments.

Rook is so lonely, surrounded by all these people. You have to choose to imagine they are connected and are having these interpersonal conversations about themselves, because they never happen on screen. At least I didn't get any of that in my Shadow Dragon Rook playthrough.

I am completely fine with what feels like one-sided pining, and even angst about what Lucanis actually wants out of Rook, but the game needs some mechanics to put into place to make it feel like Rook isn't just quietly okay with an empty relationship, or expect us to imagine things are happening when the game presents them as very much not.

So much of what is there is perfectly rife for fanfiction, but I expect the logical progression to be clear in the game where it really is just not. I have no idea how Lucanis/Rook get from point A to B to C. It feels like it is missing content, and it could even just be Rook-specific content to smooth it over. As it is now, it feels like an unconvincing story.

Maybe one day I'll play it again as a crow to see if that adds any crumbs, but for now I'm just feeling kinda conflicted for my poor Rook. I love the potential, but am not super pleased with the execution.

[openphrase123]

i just finished this fic! it's good!

and because it's all done i want to like... be a LITTLE self indulgent and talk under the cut about some miscellaneous things that i ran into while writing it. don't click the readmore if you're interested in the fic and haven't read it yet i'm about to spoil the Whole thing.

also there is an epilogue to this fic now - go read that before this post if you're getting to this before the update!!

so!! i haven't written fanfiction in like FIVE YEARS. it's been a while! part of that is because i was doing original stuff and part of it was i was in a creative slump. so isat kind of dug me out of that and i owe it my thanks. i've been able to do a crazy amount of original work since starting this fic, it's brought back my creative discipline. in like seven years when my video game comes out you can thank isat for that probably

i originally set out thinking this was the only fic for isat i was going to write. and then as i was writing this i fell deeper into it. i kind of got out of isat a little disappointed in how it ended?? but now that i'm here i'm like ah it's fine. just cause i would have done something different in dev's position doesn't mean it's bad. it does mean i can write a bunch of fanfiction exploring things i wish had been tackled more in the game though LOL

i said this in one of the chapter authors notes but i DID start out curtain call hating loop with every fiber of my being. (as in i liked them as a character UNTIL the act 6 reveal which i thought was lame) and then i played through the game a second time knowing the loop twist and went "oh nvm this makes sense" so a lot of the loop stuff in this fic was actually written twice. originally i was just gonna have them soulmerge with siffrin and not be present at all but then i was like. no. i do want to keep this lighthearted and that's too depressing of an end for loop. i do have a loop postcanon doc so i'll go repay them for their slapdashed involvement in curtain call someday

i'm in a weird position with curtain call in that i wrote the themes and major conflicts Directly After playing through isat the first time. before i could really marinate and analyze the characters fully. so there are a lot of scenes and points where i think i wouldn't characterize certain people like that if i were to rewrite this from scratch? however i don't disagree with what i've written either - it's just an interpretation that i don't necessarily think is my favorite anymore.

neither is any of the worldbuilding i did for any of this - it works for curtain call and i think it was nice but i don't necessarily think it's my current interpretation of what the culture and people were like? i like the wishes being permanent thing, i like the language stuff, but i'd probably go in a different direction if i went through this again

i do actually still think "the forgotten island was destroyed by a volcano" is my solid headcanon explanation of what happened to it. in my heart. i think like - with siffrin as a character especially it's very important that he's always missing something, that it's not idyllically happy for them at the end of everything. so even if he can remember more from their own past, it's - you know - there's no way to go back. only forward.

in the vein of this i probably could have killed siffrin/loop's entire childhood family but i did not. mostly because i did think it was fun for him to have to explain all of those cultural taboos they broke to survive. which, of course, was not a big deal - any good parent would rather their kid be alive than lawful - but what is isat other than a vehicle to make siffrin work through every moral compulsion and spiral they experience

i had a thought halfway through writing the fic that i was stepping on the very good and beautiful odile friendquest by making the island real and having a lot of siffrin's personality dictate how it went. but i ultimately decided on keeping siffrin very close to their country, more than odile is to vaugarde, because siffrin actually DID live on the island when he was a kid and that i think is a Different type of "longing for your country" trauma than odile's. i think they can still drink over the feelings together though

writing bonnie is very fun but very emotional for me. the bonnie&siffrin age gap (preteen to late-20s) is the exact age gap between me and my niece so every time i need to sit down and write something for them i think about her and how much she's a little baby growing up. this has nothing to do with bonnie it just makes writing bonnie really hard for me

if the entire history of my ao3 account was not an indicator, i'm a very big fan of writing romance, but i did not want it to take over curtain call at all. i also could have left out sloopis entirely and almost did, but thought "you know. with the way loop functions in this fic. i should at least let that be open ended" cause sharing a body with a version of you who is dating some other guy is gonna get messy no matter what. it's just not necessarily something i had time to or the urge to explore here. think of it as a fun spiritual nod to the fact that isafrin is technically open ended in isat (<- cop out answer)

i think i'm pretty vocal in how much i am absolutely insane for the flashback "happiest i can remember being" conversation. who let them do that. i think a lot of how i worked with mirabelle and siffrin's relationship in this fic kind of revolved around that. important to me that it ends with mira checking in on him and getting the answer she was looking for all along <3

overall i'm happy with curtain call. glad i am done with it though. there's so much that's running in with it at once. i'll probably wait a month and reread the whole thing to myself front to back before i start having fond memories of this. i mean it's always gonna be the fic my nephew was born during and i'll always remember having a panic attack in the airport right after posting chapter 7 but it's gonna be weird letting this one sail off into the ocean of the internet. however feel free to ask anything about the fic, i wrote this in a lil hurry on a bad day and probably didn't cover everything

goodbye, curtain call!! i love you!!!!! i'll miss you!!!!

[looks both ways, waiting for most people to leave]

also. if you've read this far. i hope it's not too gauche of me to link my personal project. if you've read over 100k words of this you might enjoy the game i'm developing? i've been working on it for almost a year but i just started the devlog last month. it's still in early baby stages as far as a full video game goes but if you liked this you'll like the game when it comes out (similar nickname culture, timeloop trauma, petty interpersonal drama, very stupid jokes, natural disaster angst)

also there isn't a lot on the devblog yet, i've mostly been doing programming on it, i JUST started visdev i'm sorry if it's uglyyyyy (FOR NOW)

anyway i'm trusting you with that link. i'm going to use my professional name on that project when it airs don't cross the wires pretty please just pretend that's a butch-y cis woman's game <3 guard the closet door babeyyyyy

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 7

Azriel x Reader Fic

WARNING:

I wanted to give you a heads-up that the following portion of this fic contains mentions of rape. While it does not go into graphic detail or describe the actual event, it does acknowledge that it is happening, focusing more on the feelings of the character. There is also a short secondary scene involving an attempted rape, but again, it is not described in detail and the scene ends before the assault can take place.

Please read at your own comfort level. If this content makes you feel uncomfortable, that's completely okay. I see you, I hear you, and I deeply appreciate you taking care of yourself. To ensure you don't miss any plot points, I will provide a brief summary in a follow-up post available at this same time. It will not mention the assault. You can look for it under "Keep Moving Forwards, Part 7, Summary".

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of rape, loss of a child, and general trauma.

Word Count: 1.8K

Author's Note:

This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

Throughout the rest of the day, you continued to watch the soldiers below, noting the times when the camp seemed quiet and when it was bustling with hundreds of males. An uneasy feeling gripped your shoulders as you felt trapped, reminiscent of being confined in your cabin in the mountains. You were unsure of Azriel's true intentions, despite his kindness, and you didn't want to wait around to find out. You decided you would leave tonight.

You took one of the pillows out of its linen lining, stuffing the naked pillow under the bed before placing your stored food and small collection of knives into the pillowcase and pushing that under the bed as well. You took the ribbon that Anthea had used to tie back your hair and looped it over a few times, securing the hunting knife Azriel had given you in the inner lining of your pants where it couldn't be seen. The only thing that gave you pause was your lack of shoes. Azriel had taken your shoes when you were brought here, and while you wanted them back, asking for them would raise suspicions. Your feet would have to endure the cold. You also gathered a few candle sticks and empty bottles from around the room, intending to use them for collecting water. 

When Anthea brought your dinner, a simple stew, you made an effort to eat every bite, savoring the warmth and preparing yourself for the uncertainty ahead. As she left, a sense of guilt washed over you—escaping a place where she clearly couldn't, if you could escape at all. The fear of continued confinement overwhelmed your fear of being caught. You half thought of bringing her with you, but her uneasy demeanor and the length of time she had been here made you question her ability to survive outside. If you could, you would someday return for her.

You perched by the window, watching as Azriel left for the evening. He didn't come to see you for the rest of the day, which was fine by you. When he was far enough away, you slid from your perch, grabbed the pillowcase of supplies from under the bed. You eyed the swords and axes, but when you went to pick one up, the heft of it caused your side to scream at you, and you decided it would slow you down too much to travel with it. You slipped out the door, ignoring the groaning protest from your aching side.

You found yourself in a small hallway, your room at the end. You made your way down towards the light radiating from below, the cold hardwood floor squeaking beneath your feet. Two other rooms were on this level, each with identical dark wooden doors. At the end, you descended the narrow stairwell to the lower level of the house. At the base was a modest living room with a large mantle, a red sofa, a dining room table with two chairs, and a meager-looking kitchen. Your heart raced too fast to take in much of your surroundings. Behind the stairs was a door that seemed to lead out the back—a welcome relief from having to walk out the front door. You pressed the door open and were immediately met with the smell of wet earth and excrement. Your lips curled in disgust as you pressed your sleeved arm to your nose and walked out, the mud squelching beneath your feet and oozing between your toes. You clambered up the hill, the fires being lit for the evening illuminating your path. Once you hit the treeline, you felt a renewed sense of peace as you continued forward, bumbling in the dark. 

Patrols would be in these woods, you were sure of that, and the best you could do was remain as silent as possible. You continued onward, occasionally freezing at the sound of a shifting branch but otherwise mostly alone. The cold mud made your legs shiver, and goosebumps erupted over your body. You silently wished you had brought one of those furs with you.

You must have only been fifteen minutes away from the camp when you heard what sounded like quiet sobs, followed by male grunting. Your heart stopped in your chest as you listened, the sobs sounding inherently female while the male groaned and moaned. As you walked closer, the sobs became clearer, and the male grunting louder. You realized the female was Anthea, from the small squeaks she let out.

You stopped dead in your tracks, recognizing the sounds of the crying. Your mind raced as you considered your options. There was no way this was of her own accord. Knowing what you did about Illyrian males and the way females shrank around them, you knew this wasn’t the first time this had happened to Anthea. Steeling yourself, you moved closer to the sounds, the light of a single lantern shining in the distance. As the sounds grew louder, the bile in your throat rose as you heard the male, between his animalistic grunts and groans, praising his victim. You had been in her place before. You had felt what she was feeling, and the anger that grew in you bloomed into a red-hot fire. 

You pulled the knife from your pants lining, gripping the handle hard within your fist, dropping the pillowcase behind you, long forgotten as you started to see red. Swallowing the rock in your throat, you moved towards the light and, without thinking, hurled yourself forward.

Your blade slashed through the wings of the male, and he howled, throwing you off him. His pants were still around his ankles as he turned to face you, breathing ragged. His face. Suddenly it all came back: the three Illyrian men, the tree, the storm. Darian.

Anthea slunk away, pressing herself against a tree, tears streaming down her scarred face.

“You,” the male hissed. “I thought you fucking died.”

You said nothing, holding the now-bloody knife as you struggled to your feet.

Darian pulled his trousers back up, tying them in place while licking his lips hungrily. “You’re going to wish you had died when I’m done with you.”

You pushed yourself upright. Though smaller than the others, he still towered over you, his wings flared out in anger, red blood streaming from the gash you had cut. He drew a long serrated hunting knife from his side, flipping it in his hand with ease, as if to show you the weapon he intended to gut you with. You swallowed any notion of fear and steadied yourself, crouching slightly to stabilize your body. The male smirked at your attempt. “Little kitty wants to play?” he laughed, crouching lower as well.

Without a sound, you launched yourself forward, your shoulder connecting with his upper chest, pushing him back slightly. Seemingly taken aback by your strength, the male stumbled and then laughed. “Strong one,” he hissed. “I like fighters, unlike that one over there.” He gestured to Anthea. “She stopped fighting a long time ago.”

His comment sent a new wave of rage through you. You yelled gutturally, slashing forward in a few long strides, but the male sidestepped immediately. When he was next to you, he wrapped his arm around your neck, pulling you tight against him. His scent turned your stomach as he leaned in close, sending his tongue up the side of your face. “Delicious,” he purred as you desperately reached to loosen his grip.

He lifted you from the ground, his continuous pressure on your neck closing your windpipe. The familiar white lining of blacking out began to creep into your vision. You gasped, your nails digging into his hardened skin as he gripped places on your body that recoiled from his touch. He laughed into your ear, breathing you in.

In a moment of panic, you clawed wildly at his face, successfully scratching a long, bloody line down his cheek and through his eye. The male yelled in pain, loosening his grip enough for you to fall to your knees, choking on the air that filled your lungs. “You bitch!” he screamed, covering his eye as he picked up his knife and stabbed it down towards you. You rolled out of the way quickly, the knife digging into the forest floor.

Ignoring the pain in your side, you stood and looked over at Anthea, who sat frozen against the tree. You stumbled over to her, croaking out, “Come on!” But Anthea merely looked at you, her eyes glazed over the same way they were when Azriel touched her, the same way you knew you looked when your mate had done this to you over and over again. “Anthea, we have to go. Now!” you urged, but she didn’t move.

Darian got to his feet, turning towards you, rage embodied. You glanced back at the trembling, half-clothed Anthea, but before you could say anything, your feet were carrying you deeper into the forest. The male came barreling after you, howling insults and threats. Your throat raw from where he had choked you, hot tears poured down your face as you ran into the midnight black. But the male was faster and more calculating. Before you made it far, he grabbed your shoulder and slammed you to the ground. The air was knocked from your lungs as you cried out.

Darian, bleeding from his cheek, laughed. “Thought you could get away?” he taunted.

He straddled you, his hulking body pressing into your midsection as he fumbled with his pants. Even in the night, you heard the sound of rope untying. You screamed, blood-curdling, begging him to stop. Your hands flew up, only for him to grab your wrists, his hands caked in blood as he tried to work your pants down. You kept screaming, begging for anything, anyone. The male laughed into your face. 

Just when you thought it was all going to begin, the beginning of your end, the male screamed and lurched backward. Behind him stood Anthea, holding your knife, lodged in Darian's back. Her eyes were still glazed over. In an instant, he turned around, tackling Anthea, pulling his own knife from his holster and plunging it repeatedly into her neck and chest, howling curses at her.

You lay on the forest floor, unable to stop what was happening as Anthea was almost dead upon impact. You let out a hollow shriek, screaming for him to stop hurting her.

“Y/N!” someone called out, followed by the crashing of woodland underbrush breaking around whoever was running. You were still screaming as Azriel cleared the last fallen log and took in the sight. The male, so enraged, didn’t even turn to see Azriel. Azriel ran to you, wrapping you in his arms, and then a whoosh of cold wind carried you away from the forest.

Author's Note:

Due to the sensitive content in this chapter, I have chosen not to tag anyone. Those who requested tags will be tagged in the summary chapter instead.

I understand that rape and sexual assault are deeply troubling and painful topics in our society. I wrestled with the ethics of writing about these themes and considered whether this addition would move the story forward or if it would be better left out. I am aware that some depictions in novels and fanfictions can be harmful, as they may glorify or misuse these themes. That is not my intention at all.

My writing often reflects my journey toward healing and understanding myself in more complex and holistic ways. While I recognize that such writings don't always need to be shared, my connection to these characters, their pasts, and their traumas compelled me to include this subject matter. I frequently ask myself if scenes involving power and control over another character can be portrayed without depicting non-consent or sexual assault. If possible, I avoid these topics altogether. However, I chose to include this scene because of the ongoing systemic oppression of women in these novels, particularly Illyrian women. I aim to do justice to these characters and highlight the complex systems of oppression both in fiction and in our world.

I am still learning how to share my art with others, and my art includes a part of myself. I hope you understand that my intentions are not to use these themes as mere plot devices or for shock value, but rather to serve a greater purpose.

Please take care of yourself and make choices that honor your well-being. Know that you are loved, cared for, and valuable.

Thank you for allowing me to explore this topic. I'll see you in the next part.

[iz1331]

Gonna have to rewatch Beetlejuice and Beetlejuice Beetlejuice back to back to compose a list of "movie canon" that were deemed not brought back/continued in the sequel.

For example: Like how the sequel "disregarded" the fact that only those who "died of suicide can become civil servants in the afterlife".

NO ONE CONFIRMED THAT! It was just a throw away line by Otho, WHO WAS A FRAUD AND KNEW LITTLE TO NONE OF THE SUPERNATURAL!

The sequel even subtly corrected that misconception. Not everyone in the Civil Service in the Afterlife died of suicide, several were wrongly assigned that cause of death.

Miss Argentina was the only significant character that had an accident in Beetlejuice that we've seen who works as a civil servant. And maybe the flattened guy, but not sure if that was an accident or not. He looked quite jovial for a flattened guy.

Case in point: we have Wolf Jackson, and he certainly didn't die of suicide, yet he works as a self-proclaimed cop and runs the whole police joint there.

The earlier scrapped concept of Betelgeuse hanging himself was just that. An idea/concept of how he died. They never used that in the film, thus it's not canon. It's considered fanon in the fandom cause it's been more than 30 years of no solid confirmation of a sequel and we were hungry for any scrap of Beetlejuice material that we can consume and use as inspiration for art and stories to feed ourselves over the years until news of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice was announced and got released.

The sequel answered some questions and gave us new content to work with. For both the characters and about the Netherworld/Afterlife in the Beetlejuice universe.

I'm all for creative liberty and freedom, make a canon divergent or write an Alternative Universe of it all, but don't just shit on the sequel and say that it's an "elaborate fanfiction" like the screenplay writers didn't put a lot of thought in it that even Tim Burton, Michael Keaton, Winona Ryder, and Catherine O'Hara finally, after DECADES of turning down script after script, found THIS story for the sequel to have the most potential and having the right tone as a follow up for the movie that meant so much to all of them.

Everyone who worked behind the scenes in creating the film from props, set location and design, puppetry, stop-motion, costume, stunt people, make-up, lights, sound, extras, production, marketing, EVERYONE put a lot of effort and passion and did AMAZING work on this project. I'm still amazed by every large and miniscule details I discover every time I rewatch it.

Was the story of the legacy sequel perfect?

Of course not.

No sequel ever is. Someone will always find something to complain about and that's just how things work in this industry, in this world.

But, was it fun? Was it both new, and brought the same feel from the original? Did the actors brought to life the characters we've loved for more than three decades and counting? Did it introduce new characters that fit the ensemble and had the same eccentric aura of the Beetlejuice world? Was it a relief that the story didn't just end 30 years ago?

Yes, it did. For me. I loved it. It's not perfect, but for someone like me who's a bit of a perfectionist on my works, and then finding the imperfections actually making the finished product better than I expected, it means a lot.

And for what it's worth, at least the time and love and the littlest of delusion I invested for Beetlebabes actually had something to show for. A one-sided romance it may be, at least I now know that Betelgeuse isn't harboring any lasting ill will towards Lydia for all these years.

That Tim also saw it that way. That Michael and Winona were open to this dynamic and relationship between the two characters/roles that they love and cherished to play.

Also, people change. No one stays the same. Life throws curve balls at us, and yes, to FICTIONAL characters as well. People mellow with age. One person or experience can change someone, even when they've been dead for 600 years.

[jaynovz]

In discussions about the finale of Black Sails, one of the things I often see is folks hard-focusing on Flint's fate, in an either-or binary fashion, usually presented as "Which do you believe-- that Silver killed him? or sent him to the plantation?"

Now, for posterity's sake, gonna mention a few things-- first off, that's simply not thinking broadly enough. There are farrrr more than two options here and I've come up with my share of the reallyyyyy bad ones for sure. Whatever your mind chooses, none of those are happy endings anyway, there are bittersweet, bad, and worse endings all the way down. (They are paused, they are in a time loop, and also all endings and no endings are happening simultaneously)

But also, the more cogent point is that, it doesn't actually matter what happened *to Flint* The story is... not actually about him at that point. We have transitioned from Flint as protag to Silver as protag, setting up for (the fanfiction that Black Sails has ended up making of, ugh, king shit) Treasure Island.

And so, I just, don't find it to be of particular interest exploring what we think Flint is actually doing or if he's alive for real. What is EXTREMELY interesting to explore though is how Silver's speech at the end to Madi is sort of giving Thomas back to Flint as a pacifier/comfort object, but how... Silver is giving Flint that thing in his own mind as his own type of pacifier/comfort object.

That's the REALLY chewy bit. What actually happens to Flint is not the purpose of that scene for me, of Silver's recounting of events to Madi. It's more about... projection. It's about how Silver is dealing with whatever happened to Flint/whatever he did.

And I just feel like it's missing the point to focus so hard on if Flint is alive or not.

He is the ghost of the story regardless, that's what's important. He's going to haunt the narrative for the rest of everyone's lives. No one has been untouched or unscarred by coming into contact with Captain Flint; he has a forever legacy. I'm not the first to call him this, but he's Schrödinger's Flint and he's staying that way.

But this?

"No. I did not kill Captain Flint. I unmade him. The man you know could never let go of his war. For if he were to exclude it from himself, he would not be able to understand himself. So I had to return him to an earlier state of being. One in which he could function without the war. Without the violence. Without us. Captain Flint was born out of great tragedy. I found a way to reach into the past... and undo it. There is a place near Savannah... where men unjustly imprisoned in England are sent in secret. An internment far more humane, but no less secure. Men who enter these gates never leave them. To the rest of the world, they simply cease to be. He resisted... at first. But then I told him what else I had heard about this place. I was told prominent families amongst London society made use of it. I was told the governor in Carolina made use of it. So I sent a man to find out if they'd used it to hide away one particular prisoner. He returned with news. Thomas Hamilton was there. He disbelieved me. He continued to resist. And corralling him took great effort. But the closer we got to Savannah, his resistance began to diminish. I couldn't say why. I wasn't expecting it. Perhaps he'd finally reached the limits of his physical ability to fight. Or perhaps as the promise of seeing Thomas got closer... he grew more comfortable letting go of this man he created in response to his loss. The man whose mind I had come to know so well... whose mind I'd in some ways incorporated into my own. It was a strange experience to see something from it... so unexpected. I choose to believe it... because it wasn't the man I had come to know at all... but one who existed beforehand... waking from a long... and terrible nightmare. Reorienting to the daylight... and the world as it existed before he first closed his eyes... letting the memory of the nightmare fade away. You may think what you want of me. I will draw comfort in the knowledge that you're alive to think it. But I'm not the villain you fear I am. I'm not him."

This is the speech of a man who is self-soothing, who is spinning himself a tale, who is projecting, who is coping.

and THAT is just, way chewier, innit?

[byrdffv]

The kirby fanfiction rec list for people on the r/kirby discord server because i mentioned i wanted to make one and people said i should

(technically a repost from a google doc i made to share there but i figured tumblr might appreciate it too)

Alright kirbros, let’s get into it.

These are in no particular order; you should give all of these fics a read IMO.

First up, let’s get the easy ones out of the way,

Kirby on the flipside by ProminenceFlare is the most popular Kirby fanfiction on ao3. Ok technichally that spot is taken by some dumb MHA fanfic that doesn't even have a single Kirby character in it but thats not the point; KotFs is THE Kirby fanfic. Theres plenty of game/anime crossovers out there but this one takes the cake. Its 300 thousand words long for christs sake, and it’s a GREAT 300 thousand words. If you haven't read KotFs, you haven't read much Kirby fanfiction i imagine. It does not disappoint. Theres also a sequel fic in the works although currently it’s on a break, but it is also just as good as the original.

Second of all is actually a series, Heart and soul by post_it_notes7. This is another game/anime crossover but in an interesting twist. The premise is that Meta Knight, long before the events of Krbay, sought to fight galacta knight in order to become stronger and hopefully defeat nightmare. He does this, and galacta is resealed. Now in the present, nightmare has been defeated by Kirby, and all is good and well, right? NOPE, galacta knight has escaped his seal and is out to reclaim his title as the strongest warrior in the galaxy. Its technichally NOT a metagala fic, it instead focuses more on a friendship between the two. Im not really a shipping person so i actually really enjoy this, their personalities clash well and they get plenty of banter. The full series combined as of now just barely beats Kirby on the flipside (not counting KotFs's sequel, Kirby's dream trials) at 310 thousand words.

Okay, chances are if youre into Kirby fanfiction you’ve already read those two, however a series you may not have seen is PinkestMenace's Planet of Possibilities, Special Treats and Rest (haha get it it spells popstar).

Now I would suggest reading most of these, but if you don’t want to read all of them theres a few key ones that are my favourites.

Control halt delete goes into meta knight’s role in Kirby planet robobot, it’s a fun, somewhat angsty fic recounting the uh, ‘modifications’ star dream and Susie put him through. Its good.

Let the games begin! Is another good one, its quite short, but a fun read.

Do Starry Knights Dream of Eternal Sleep? is a much more angsty fic, focusing on that old “meta knight is a creation of nightmare” headcanon from the anime fandom. It is a very good fic but I will warn you its got some more harsh content in it including some self-harm/loathing-adjacent moments, and as with all fanfiction I recommend reading the tags before reading. If you are comfortable with that though, it’s a great read!

Rocks Fall, Everyone Flies is by far my favourite fic in this series, its got some great character interactions and storyline. The story is reminiscent of the Kirby novels, if the Kirby novels were not childrens books and were instead horror novels. I jest, but this story does have some good spooky content and moments. Its gives good attention to all four of the dream land gang and is another great read.

Alright that’s all for the POPSTAR series, there are other fics in that series but those are the ones Im interested in, I would suggest checking out the rest of their fics however if you are interested!

Where Were the meta-knights? By purblegaymer Is one of my absolute favourites, up there with Heart and Soul. It’s a ‘missing scene’ fic, going into where the meta knights were in those episodes where they were missing, as well as giving us a look at meta knights dumb internal thoughts throughout certain episodes. It’s a long but very good read, going into meta knight’s thoughts and personality in the anime. It’s a very good read, would absolutely recommend to any anime fans.

That’s been a lot of meta knight adjacent fics, eh? Don’t worry, I’ve got other character-centric fics. For example…

Stuck With The Lor by Azzie_Tangerine Focuses on magolor after he escapes from another dimension and tries to live in the dream kingdom. However the Lor, missing its captain, decides to show up and lock magolor in his ship so it can give the poor cat some therapy. Okay that’s not ENTIRELY how it goes but it is the basic premise. The fic goes more into magolor’s guilt and experience with the master crown, creates some fun lore for the uh, Lor, and is a good exploration into how the two’s relationship. Would definitely recommend this one for any magolor fans, 100%.

How King Dedede founded Christmas by NWTGMR is both hilarious and heartwarming. I think this fic might have one of the best portrayals of dededes personality in fan content I’ve seen, with the perfect mix between big soft man and petty jerk. I would definitely recommend giving this one a read, even if it’s not Christmas you will enjoy it.

Half Blind Date by Azzie_Tangerine (again, they’ve got some good fics) is the sole reason why I ship taransusie, which is funny because as I said earlier im not very big on shipping, but this one is too good to refuse. Taransusie is kind of a rarepair in the scope of Kirby ships (definitely not the rarest, but its not too common either), but this fic is very fun nonetheless! Please don’t take a drinking game at how many times ive said the word ‘fun’ in this list so far. Anyway, very good read, would recommend if youre a fan of either taranza or Susie!

Oh, actually, while we’re here, why not recommend Books Are Stupid, Anyways!, also by Azzie_tangerine. It’s a Kirby and prince fluff fic. Very cute, nuff’ said.

Youth by katrinasis is a pre-canon story recounting how king dedede and meta knight met, its cute and pretty fun. Good read even if youre not really into metadede.

He May Even Dream Again by voidknight is a fic that focuses on… Gooey of all characters! Yeah, gooey isn’t really the star of many fics, but this one gives him the spotlight! Mostly focuses on gooey’s relationship to dark matter, its in second person but somehow manages to make it work. Its fun, its cool, perhaps its even ‘neat’. Give it a read, if you want.

The List of Things Dark Meta Knight is Forbidden To Do by WarioCart Is… a fic (I say this positively). Based on that one Scp story I think, TLoTDMKiFTD is both a mouthful to say and a great fic. Its got some good humour, and just in general really funny. If youre too bummed out by angsty fic id recommend this one.

And… That’s about it, really. There are plenty of good Kirby fanfiction out there, but that’s all I really can think of (and have time for) today.

Wait actually, before I go, I should recommend The Olde Switcheroo by TripleMK, its another game/anime crossover but it focuses on dedede, its currently in the works but has updated recently. It’s a good one!

[tinykittendelusion]

Seventeen as Book Boyfriends

a/n : this is very popular on Instagram thought I'll give it a try

triggers: none

Scoups - Dante Russo ( King of Wrath)

Okay hear me out . Dante is extremely Scoups coded.Especially with how protective he's over Vivian also I love how he begs for her to forgive plus how he stands up to her dad just very Dante.

Jeonghan - Josh Chen ( Twisted Hate)

Please Jeonghan and Josh are one person fight me. The whole banter and how cocky Josh is very jeonghan coded plus i just wanna see jeonghan in scrubs. Also I see jeonghan with someone who matches his freak like Jules matches Josh's.

Joshua- Percy Jackson ( Percy Jackson and the Olympians)

Joshua is the og beach boyfriend. Also I love the idea of Joshua just being this himbo for his loml. He's absolutely soft for them just like Percy is soft for annabeth. Also I feel he has Percy's sass. Also Percy's mortal weakness is his loyalty and i feel that's very Joshua of him .

(a/n: Idk if Percy is technically a bookstagram qualified book boyfriend but I see him as one)

Jun- Aaron Blackford ( The Spanish Love Deception)

Yk how much Aaron yearns for Catalina ? yeah that's Jun. He is too shy to confess so he just pretends to hate you. Also I just feel he's such a softie over all just like Aaron.

Hoshi- Levi Stewart ( Fangirl)

Yes JUST YES. Levi was such a sweetheart and I feel he's so hoshi coded he spoils and Pampers you but he does that with everyone but then he finds out you write fanfiction (bonus points if it's about him) and he makes you read it to him. Just an overall softie who adores you. Also obsessed with animals (cough cough tigers).

Wonwoo- Christian Harper (Twisted Lies)

I'm just swooning imagining him calling you Butterfly. Also that island scene?!?? I'm yelling also he would be the perfect guy to be your boyfriend on social media. Also he loves holding your thigh.

Woozi - Dominic Davenport (King of Greed)

Dominic and Alexandra were so cute. I just wish Dominic groveled more but ik woozi would is a workaholic who is in love with two things his wife and his work. Plus i just think he tends to lose himself in his work while his spouse is an outside person.

Dokyeom - Wez Bennett (Better than the movies )

Mingyu - Kai Young(King of Pride)

Yes. Both of them are very sunshine coded cuties. Also I just love how roundabout they would be when they like someone. That's it sunshine coded babies.

Minghao - Charlie Lestra (Book Lovers)

Have you seen mingyu in glasses? Then you must understand where I'm coming from. He's tall smart understanding and hot a whole package also that scene in the hidden library with mingyu? SIGN ME TF UP.

So yk how Charlie is this practical but kind person? Yes very Minghao coded. He's down bad for you but would not reveal it cause it's always easier to pretend to hate you only when you start falling for a small town guy he realises what he is missing out on. Also they both are extremely practical but do everything for the people they love types.

Seungkwan Xavier Castillo (King of Sloth)

At first this was not the option for seungkwan but I feel I see so much of sassy boo that we forget boo is also a people's person he can charm the shit out of everyone and everything just like the male lead he's annoying sassy and a charmer.

Dino - Rhys Larsen (Twisted Games)

Vernon - Aaron Warner(Shatter me Series)

Blonde vernon for the win. They both have the idk wtf you doing vibes also would be totally obsessed with you. Also they both have such poker faces? I'm in love.

We live in Buff Dino world ofc Rhys and Dino are one person the whole princess nickname? The crawl to me? the pathetic in love vibe? Yes to all of those.

a/n: no proofreading done i just hope it doesn't flop :(

[meimiou]

The Glow of Memories

synopsis: Since childhood, Ran and his best friend y/n have cherished a secluded hideout in the forest, a sanctuary where they confide their deepest worries and share their dreams. This special place has been a refuge for their secrets, joys, and fears, strengthening their bond as they grew up together. Till one day, y/n’s heartfelt words about the future and their dreams took on new meaning, shaping Ran’s journey and leaving a lasting impact on his life.

ᝰ pairing: Ran Takahashi x f!reader ᝰ genre: angst, øne-shøt ᝰ warnings: none ᝰ word count: 1.6k

Mei’s Echo! Hey, this is my first time writing a story, and I have to admit I’m a bit nervous about how people will receive it since I’m completely new to this scene. Despite my nerves, I decided to take the plunge and publish this one-shot. I should mention that English is not my first language, so I might not be able to express myself as clearly as I’d like. There may be some mistakes, so please bear with me. Additionally, I decided to write fanfictions because I saw people on Twitter/X asking for more stories about RJ Nippon. I hope you enjoy reading it and that you like my first story ^^

It was a gloomy afternoon, besides dark clouds and heavy rain, the lightning seemed to be the only light of the day. Ran needed a few seconds, even minutes to process the message he received from his mother.

“You’re joking! Say you’re joking! I’m begging you!” Ran cries out in desperation to his mother. But even she couldn't hide her grief as crystal-shaped tears slide down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry…”

The only thing left to come out of his mother’s mouth. It was a mix between words and air, one could say the last air she had left before her knees gave out and she and her son were crying on the floor in despair.

Her husband, also in a state of shock and still processing, tried everything to comfort these two people who meant the most to him, but it was in vain.

It was just this one message, a short, bitter message that would change their entire lives. The news that y/n had died of an abdominal aortic aneurysm and would now live with the angels and protect all the people she knew, even if it was now in a faraway place, heaven.

Ran had never been the same since that day. He lost himself when he heard the news at just 16. In the years since, he had grown into a mature and tall young man.

On his 18th birthday, for the first time since y/n passed away, Ran returned to their secret hideout, a place that had always been a sanctuary for him and y/n. It was where they shared their secrets, shed tears of joy and sadness, exchanged hugs, and talked about their fears for the future. For them, it was always a second home, as they called it. But now, only he called it his second home.

Ran never had the courage to go there alone. He was afraid of reliving the past and facing a future without y/n.

“Nothing has changed about this path…” Ran whispered to himself. But it was a lie. The path hadn’t changed in any shape or form, but the person who once walked beside him was missing, and Ran knew it too well. He was alone now, without her voice, her tears, her rants, and her smile that never failed to make him smile too.

“Ran, look at this!” y/n exclaimed, pointing to a spot near a shimmering lake. The lake was nestled deep within the forest, far removed from the noise and bustle of the city — a perfect place to unwind and relax.

The dense canopy of trees above filtered the sunlight, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. Birds chirped melodiously, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves, creating a serene atmosphere. The air was crisp and fresh, carrying the earthy scent of pine and moss.

Ran glanced at y/n, a small sparkle in his eyes, captivated by her enthusiasm. Her face was lit up with excitement, her eyes wide with wonder as she gazed at the tranquil scene. Before he could respond, y/n took his hand, her grip firm and warm, and pulled him eagerly toward the lake.

He felt an exhilarating thrill as they dashed through the underbrush, the world around them becoming a blur of green. Their laughter echoed through the trees, mingling with the sound of leaves crunching beneath their feet. The lake seemed to draw them in, its surface glistening like a sheet of glass under the sun.

As they reached the water’s edge, they paused, panting lightly from the run. The lake was stunning, its calm waters reflecting the sky and surrounding trees. The place had an enchanting quality, as if time itself had slowed down just for them. Ran couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of peace and joy as he stood there with y/n, their shared excitement making the moment even more magical.

As they stood by the lake, y/n gazed at the still water, her expression shifting from excitement to a more reflective mood. The surface of the lake was like a perfect mirror, reflecting the sky and the lush trees surrounding them. She took a deep breath, her eyes softening with a touch of melancholy.

“Every time I see my reflection in the lake,” y/n began, her voice barely above a whisper, “I get kind of sentimental. It feels like time is slipping away from us as we get older.”

Ran watched her intently, sensing the shift in her mood. He felt a pang of sadness in his chest, knowing exactly what she meant. The moments they shared in their secret hideout were precious, but they also reminded them of how fleeting time could be. The innocence of their youth was slowly giving way to the uncertainties of the future.

y/n’s gaze remained fixed on the water, her reflection mingling with the gentle ripples that distorted her image. “It’s like each year passes by faster than the last, and sometimes I worry about what the future holds for us.” she continued, her voice tinged with a hint of fear and vulnerability.

Ran squeezed her hand gently, offering silent support. He understood the weight of her words, feeling the same uncertainty about the future. He often wondered where life would take them and whether y/n would be by his side through the twists and turns of adulthood. The lake, once a place of joyful memories, now also held a bittersweet reminder of the passage of time.

“It’s hard not to think about what lies ahead” Ran admitted, his voice thoughtful. “I worry about what’s going to happen to us, where we’ll end up, and if we’ll still be friends in a few years.”

y/n nodded, her eyes reflecting the same concerns. The future felt like an endless sea of possibilities, both exciting and daunting. Yet standing here with Ran, she found solace in the strength of their bond.

“We’ve always been there for each other” she said softly, “and I hope that never changes. I want to see you become the volleyball star you’ve always dreamed of being. I know you can do it, Ran.”

Ran felt a warmth spread through his chest at her words. Volleyball had always been his passion and knowing that y/n believed in his dream filled him with determination and hope. Her unwavering support made him feel like anything was possible.

He smiled, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. “Thanks, y/n. I’ll work hard for that, and I’ll be cheering you on too, whatever path you choose.”

Together, they stood at the edge of the lake, surrounded by the tranquil beauty of the forest, and silently promised to face whatever the future held hand in hand, supporting each other’s dreams every step of the way.

“Wow, look at the stars, Ran” y/n giggled, pointing up at the night sky. “They twinkle just like your eyes do when you see a volleyball.”

Ran glanced at the stars, then back at y/n, who was lying beside him on the soft grass. He was struck by how her eyes sparkled in the moonlight, mirroring the constellations above. He didn’t respond verbally but simply lay down next to her, allowing the peacefulness of the night to envelop them both.

As they stared up at the dark blue sky, Ran noticed something different. The usual calm of their shared moments was tinged with a fluttering sensation in his stomach, like a delicate butterfly taking flight. He couldn’t quite place it, but it felt oddly significant as he observed y/n’s face bathed in starlight.

y/n suddenly sat up, her gaze fixed intently on Ran. “You’ll be 16 soon, Ran. You should really enjoy this time while you can. You’re still young after all.” she said, her voice carrying a bittersweet undertone that Ran couldn’t quite decipher.

Ran looked at her, puzzled by the depth of her words. “You sound like my grandma...” he replied with a light chuckle, trying to shift the mood. Despite his attempt at humor, the fluttering butterflies in his stomach remained, leaving him with an unshakable sense of nostalgia.

y/n smiled softly, then lay back down, her hand brushing lightly against Ran’s. They shared a comfortable silence, the sound of crickets filling the air as they continued to gaze at the stars.

Two years later, Ran stood on the court, his heart pounding with excitement and nerves. The game was intense, and the moment he had been dreaming of was finally within reach. As he leapt for a crucial spike, the memory of y/n’s encouraging words echoed in his mind.

“I know you can do it, Ran” she had said, her eyes shining with belief.

As he scored the winning point and celebrated with his team, Ran looked up towards the sky. He felt a deep sense of gratitude, knowing that y/n’s words had been more than just encouragement — they had been a beacon of hope that had carried him through his challenges. Yet, even amidst the triumph, he couldn’t forget the deep wound left by y/n’s passing. Her absence was a void that he was still learning to navigate.

Ran felt the weight of that loss, a lingering ache in his heart. But he also felt her presence in the supportive words she had spoken, and in the promise she had made. He knew that y/n was always with him, guiding him, just as she had hoped. Her belief in him continued to inspire him, even as he worked to heal and move forward.

With a smile of contentment and a heart still healing, Ran knew that every success he achieved was a tribute to y/n’s unwavering faith in him. Her words and memories were a source of strength, a reminder that he was never truly alone.

[ikeromantic]

Cruelty

A Chevalier Michel fanfiction. Approx. 4500 words. This scene takes place in Chapter 19 of the main route and is told from Chevalier’s POV. Part 17 of a series.

Chapter List

Chevalier felt an unusual lightness as he sat beside the Belle in his private dining room. He enjoyed watching her enjoy the food and wine. Enjoyed her chatter about the day, he past, her books. This warmth haunted him every day since the Belle confessed her love. 

He knew it was pure foolishness to allow himself to feel this way. A pleasurable nothing. Part of him knew his affair with this uncommon commoner would lead only to tragedy, but the other part, the near-silenced heart of him, wanted her to be right.

“What are you thinking about?” Emma tilted her head, gaze inquisitive. 

Chevalier deflected. “You don’t speak much about your family.”

She nodded. “My only family is Mr. Akatsuki. He practically raised me. I know I had a home before him - parents. But it’s just bits and pieces. A certain smell. A room I can half recall. Sometimes a smell.” Emma shrugged. “What about you? I never hear you talk about the king or your mother.”

“There is no point in discussing it.” 

Of course, Emma wasn’t going to be so easily denied. “Sariel gave me the bare facts. I know it couldn’t have been an easy childhood, so I understand if you don’t want to tell me about it.” She laid a hand on his arm. “But I’m here if you -”

He snorted. “You will worry about it if I don’t say anything more.” The look in her eye confirmed that truth. “Fine. My father had no interest in me. I spent years trying to be the best, to prove myself. But he only cared for the love he’d lost, and the child lost with her.”

Emma took a sip of wine, knowing him well enough to understand that a trite comforting statement would only irritate him. 

Chevalier continued. “My mother yearned for his affection, and missed her home.” He recalled the queen, her cold misery, the silent distances between them. “She found me distasteful. A strange child, an unpleasant reminder of her situation. I only saw either of them at court.” He shook his head. “It isn’t important.”

“It is to me.” She leaned her head against his shoulder, giving him her comforting warmth. “I wish you’d had a Mr. Akatsuki too. Someone to hug you and tell you everything would be ok.”

He gave a mirthless laugh. “I wouldn’t have appreciated the lie.”

“But maybe you would have liked the hug.” Emma glanced up at him. “Can I hug you, Prince Chevalier?”

“If it will make you stop asking me about my parents, then yes.” 

She wrapped her arms around him and laid her head against his chest. Despite himself, it felt good to he embraced, and his arms went around her to hold her tight. These moments could not last, but he cherished them. 

Much later, after seeing Emma to her room, he found himself wondering how she might prove their love was anything besides foolhardy. What might he accept as evidence? What outcome could she hope for? She wanted to prove he was more than the Brutal Beast, but there was no way to do so. 

Chevalier knew he would kill again, and sentence thousands to their death if necessary. And he would not regret the life lost so long as the objective was met. The kingdom mattered more. More than a life, more than the lives of any one village - or any one prince. How could a man that believed that be anything but a beast? 

***

Chevalier stepped into her room, intending to gift her a decorative candleholder. He’d chosen it from several gifts sent to him by merchants hoping to curry favor. Fools they were, but this one was pretty and he thought she might like it. The silver was worked in the shape of an exquisite flower, so delicately wrought that it was nearly a work of art.

The Belle sat on her bed, head bent over a history book. She was so wrapped up in the text that she didn’t even notice him come in. “Emma.” She didn’t so much as twitch, so he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled out his own book. The candleholder dropped to the bed beside him, largely forgotten.

It was hours later that she sat up and stretched, making a satisfied sound as she worked the kinks from her muscles and joints. “I guess I was too engrossed,” she said to herself.

“Indeed.”

The Belle did a little jump at the sound of his voice. He smiled at her when their eyes met, hers wide with surprise. 

“I did call out to you once.” He gestured toward the book in her lap. “For a simpleton you have considerable powers of concentration.”

“I’m sorry. I completely didn’t notice!”

He chuckled and shut his book. She was adorably flushed with embarrassment, color high in her cheeks. 

“What’s that?” Emma gestured to the candleholder at his side. 

“A merchant who came to the palace left it as a gift. It was in the way, so I’m giving it to you.” Chev tossed it to her.

She caught it with a shout of surprise. “What - whoa!” She examined the candleholder, clearly pleased. “It’s beautiful. Are you sure I can have this?”

He shrugged. “If you don’t want it, I’ll get rid of it.”

“No, no. I do! Thank you.” She smiled and set it on her nightstand.

“If you want to thank me, don’t ask pointless questions.” He couldn’t help but smile at her. She was so happy, deriving pleasure from things in a way that he never could. 

The Belle smiled back at him, then her expression fell. An anxiousness gripped her. He knew immediately why. Her promise to show him the value of this love they shared for each other. The use of it. She was no closer to an answer for him but not ready to give up either. “You really do show everything you’re thinking,” he scoffed.

“What is it this time?”

“Nothing.” He didn’t want to ridicule her for her efforts or explore too deeply why he was indulging in this pointless affection. Spending time together was pleasurable but it would lead to nothing. However, there was a better way for her to prove her theorem, he thought. A tangible outcome of her idealistic notion, should she manage to pull it off. But if anyone could succeed, it would be Emma.

Chevalier stood. “Let’s go.”

“What? Where?”

He stopped and turned to look at her. “Come along and find out. Oh, and I’m sure I don’t need to say this, but refusing is not one of your options.” Chev smiled again, knowing she didn’t want to refuse anyway.

His carriage waited for them outside, and he helped her into it. The ride into the city was pleasant. Quiet except for the creaking of the carriage wheels and the clop of horse hooves. She sat beside him on the padded bench, her leg pressed to his thigh. Chevalier was hyper aware of the sensation, the fabric of her skirts rustling. The slight tensing of her leg at each bump in the road. He enjoyed it, even as it set an odd tension within him.

They finally came to a stop along a backalley. The few lampposts here were not lit, the only light came from the moon above, and the faint flickering of candlelight from nearby windows. 

Emma looked alarmed as he helped her down from the carriage, but Chevalier knew they had nothing to fear. Not here. He led her to the front of a shop where a brawny man stood guard. Interestingly, Emma did not look surprised by this place. Meaning Clavis had certainly brought her here before, as suspected.

The guard saw him coming and his brows drew down as his shoulders squared. Fool. “I’m very sorry but today our shop is completely booked - w-wait! Are you Prince Chevalier?!”

“You’re in my way. Move.”

The guard’s mouth fell open. He might have been ready to challenge the prince again, but Chev brushed him aside as if he were no more than an annoying gnat.

Chevalier paused a few steps inside to survey the room. The crowd was diverse, but none of the faces he knew were unexpected. His gaze found the one special guest he’d hoped would come. Hiding behind a pillar, recognizable even in peasant’s clothes.

As the prince stood there watching them, the anti-war faction’s chatter fell silent and all eyes turned to Chevalier. Tension hung in the air, thick as smoke.

“That’s - no way!” One man shouted.

“It’s Prince Chevalier,” a woman called out.

Beside him, Emma stood on tiptoe to whisper in his ear, her voice heavy with worry. “Why exactly are we here?”

“This is the meeting place of the anti-war faction.” He gave a small sigh of annoyance. “Apparently they have regular awareness-raising activities with messages like, ‘Don’t allow the second prince’s heinous acts to continue’ and ‘Take up arms.’ ‘Create a revolution.’ Stop the war.’” Chevalier laughed humorlessly. 

Emma’s eyes were wide with fear, but she kept her voice and the rest of her expression calm. “Prince Chevalier, what do you plan to do here?”

He was surprised she didn’t assume he’d come to kill them all. That was certainly the most direct way to deal with their interference. He smirked. “Watch and see for yourself.” He strode forward and the crowd parted for him. 

Chevalier cast an arrogant glance over them. “What is it? There’s no need to pay any attention to me. Pretend I’m not here and talk freely amongst yourselves.” He sat down in one of the chairs and waited for them to make the next move.

No one said anything for a long moment, then a thin, well-dressed man approached. “I never imagined I would see you here, your Highness.” Chev knew him instantly. The baron, Flandre. Despite his demeanor, unyielding rage burned in the depths of his eyes. 

Across the room, Emma tensed. She knew who this was as well, and with what regard he held the Prince. 

Lord Flandre smiled as sharp as a dagger’s edge. “What sort of business do you have with us today? Did you intend to purge us like you did the others?” 

“You catch on quick,” Chevalier held his arrogant smirk. “I’ve come to cut off your heads if you commit an act of treason against my kingdom.” He gestured to the room at large. “Now, why don’t you hurry up and start your little meeting?”

There was an audible rippled through the gathered people. A collective gasp as blood drained from fearful faces. 

“Your Highness, are you being serious?” Flandre took a step back, uncertain now that the Brutal Beast had bared his fangs. 

The prince shrugged. “There’s no sense in letting rabble-rousers do what they want, is there? Even if they claim innocence.” 

Flandre bit his lip, bringing a bead of blood to the surface. Anger warred with fear in his expression, as easy to read for Chev as the Belle.

“All of you have two choices. Loyalty or death.” Chevalier rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. “I should tell you that I take your silence to mean you intend to commit treason. You know what will happen if you say nothing, right?” 

Still, no one said a word. Even their breath was held. 

Chevalier stood and drew his sword, holding it aloft. 

Emma stepped forward, no fear in her face now. Only determination and concern. “Prince Chevalier. Please wait.” She stepped between him and the members of the anti-war faction. 

Here it was, he thought, keeping a smile on the inside. His Belle was so brave, moreso than all these pretend revolutionaries combined. “If you get in my way, you’ll wind up as a stain on my sword,” he warned.

She nodded as if this were merely an expected possibility. “Even supposing the people gathered here ARE considering treason against the kingdom,” Emma glanced around the room before continuing. “I think they must have their reasons.”

“And what of it?”

“If you just punish them all without question, without hearing what those reasons are, that’s the act of a mere beast.” Emma’s eyes met his and her lips curved up in a slight, knowing smile. “Prince Chevalier, I know you are not a beast. So please, try to have an open mind tonight. I propose that you talk with them first, and try to meet them halfway.”

He did not reply, only observed her. This steel soul she possessed was on full display now, called into action by this seemingly rash action of his. He wondered if she suspected his full purpose here. 

The Belle held his gaze, unflinching. “If you still insist on cutting down your own people, Prince Chevalier, then I should be the first one to die, as someone who is now openly in defiance.”

Flandre gasped from behind her. “What? Lady Emma!”

The room erupted with gasps and whispers. Shock ran through the faces of the anti-war gathering that an outsider to their cause would place herself between them and the prince. 

“However,” Emma tilted her head, “what I’m offering is a proposal, not treason. If you’re willing to listen to your people, please put away your sword.”

The prince laughed. She really was a remarkable woman. How impossible that she loved him, and saw in him a man worthy of her. “Very well. I’ll at least listen to their explanation.” He sheathed his sword and sat again, waiting expectantly.

Lord Flandre gave a jerk of surprise. He was not the only one. 

Emma stepped to the side, out of the way now that her work was done.

“Well?” Chevalier raised a brow. 

“Thank you Lady Emma.” Flandre gave her a small bow and then turned back to Chevalier. “In order to avoid war, we want Rhodolite to make a bloodless surrender.”

Chevalier’s lips thinned as he pressed them tight before replying. “You would have us surrender to an enemy nation without going to war?”

“Yes. I’m sure you know this, Prince Chevalier, but I’ve lost family to war.” Flandre’s gaze wavered with grief. “I’ll do whatever it takes to avoid going through that again.” He gestured to others in the crowd. “Everyone here bears those kinds of scars.”

Emma looked at him in clear surprise and horror, sympathy evident in her posture. She wanted to ease his pain, but not at the cost of surrender to Obsidian. 

“I understand your motivation, but I have a feeling we won’t be able to come to an understanding.” The prince’s gaze rested coldly on his former knight, a coward willing to sell his neighbors into slavery to spare himself some pain.

Lord Flandre nodded after a beat. “It seems so. After all, you’re a heartless beast, Prince Chevalier.”

“I believe most of you are the same when it comes to not having a heart.” Chevalier relaxed into the seat, letting his gaze drift over the gathering. 

“What do you mean by that,” Flandre demanded.

Chevalier sighed. “You’ve already joined forces with Obsidian, haven’t you?”

The baron took a step back. “H-how did you-”

“When the fort was occupied, the Obsidianite army closed in on our border. Fortunately, the enemy forces quickly withdrew when we showed more force than expected but if we’d taken our time to negotiate with you, we would have lost the fort.”

Several in the crowd whispered to one another, a tide of unrest. 

Emma gasped audibly and stared in horror at Flandre.

“The enemy army was on standby, as though Obsidian knew from the beginning that the fort had been taken. There’s no way they could have known unless they were conspiring with the anti-war faction.”

Flandre looked down and did not reply.

Prince Chevalier continued. “Your faction made a proposal to Obsidian several months ago, didn’t it?” He tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair, a martial beat. “If we help you take control of Rhodolite, you’ll give those who cooperated preferential treatment. You do know how nations who have surrendered to Obsidian are treated, don’t you?”

Again no one replied, and their silence was damning.

“Their people are tyrannized and used as slaves. That is the fate of an invaded country. The choice all of you have made nearly cost our people their peaceful, ordinary lives.” The prince’s icy rage flowed through the small space.

“We don’t care what happens to the kingdom,” Flandre sputtered, finally finding his spine. “If we can just keep our loved ones safe then -”

Chevalier nodded, interrupting. “Oh? So it’s self-deception that has driven you to betray your country.” He was trying to keep a reign on his temper, but the urge to depart this man’s head from his body was strong. Fool. “I tire of listening to this.”

“I know it’s not ideal,” Flandre continued, trying to rationalize. “But even so, we don’t want to lose what’s important to us. You push for was but do you have any idea how much sorrow will come from the inevitable sacrifices?”

The prince did not answer him directly, but rather focused on the fearful faces in the crowd. “I have one question for all of you. I’m sure there are many kinds of people you call your loved ones. Family, friends, lovers. Would it make them happy to see Rhodolite invaded and overrun? To see their neighbors and friends enslaved and abused?” 

He could see his words impact them as they exchanged glances, another rush of whispers filling the space.

“If you think you can enjoy true happiness in the midst of that hell then you are the ones that do not understand the sorrow that will result from that sacrifice.” Chevalier watched the realization settle in. Still no one replied. Even Flandre ceased his pathetic attempts at justification.

Prince Chevalier stood. “If you give up this treasonous plan and follow me, I swear this to you. I will settle things with Obsidian and bring true peace to Rhodolite without fail. I will protect our kingdom so that your loved ones can find happiness.”

Lord Flandre sensed he was losing control of the faction. He turned, flailing. “D-don’t try to sweet talk us! You speak of an ideal you can’t achieve. All you’re doing is ensuring there will be even more victims!”

“It is not an ideal. It’s a future that will happen.” Chev’s reply was so certain that even Flandre looked shaken.”That said, yes. Sacrifice is an unavoidable aspect of war. I can’t guarantee the life of every single person. However, I believe not a single life will be lost in vain for our county. I won’t allow it to be.” 

His implacable gaze swept once more over the room. “If we fight, we will win without fail. Choosing this path will allow all of you to face your loved ones without shame.” Prince Chevalier waited as the anti-war faction considered his words. And then, one by one, they came and knelt before him. There was only one that refused to bend the knee.

“I don’t believe you,” Flandre spat. He glared at Chevalier, so weighed down by his hate and pain that he was insensible to reason. Then he drew his sword. 

Emma leapt forward with a shout. “Prince Chevalier!” She need not have moved. 

As Flandre charged, Chevalier sidestepped the attack. He lashed out with a well-placed kick and sent the knight’s sword clanging to the ground. Flandre could only gasp for breath. “You’re as foolish as ever,” the prince sighed. “I’ll pretend that this disrespect never happened.”

Lord Flandre straightened, his eyes still brimming with hate and unspent anger. 

Chevalier ignored him. He beckoned Emma to follow, and strode to the exit. No good would come from staying longer.

“It doesn’t matter what you say,” Flandre shouted after them. “I’ll never bend the knee to you! Never again!”

The prince didn’t even waste a glance on him. 

Emma, however, looked back and let out a small gasp. She didn’t say anything until they were back in the carriage. Then she asked, “Was that Leon just now?”

“Yes. It wasn’t your imagination. I summoned him.” He watched the street pass slowly out the window, chin in hand. Seeing the peaceful street was a good reminder why he did what he did. This place could only be what it was thanks to the sacrifice of its defenders. 

“What? But why?” 

Chevalier glanced at her. “It’s none of your concern.” She did not need to know the details of his navigating royal conflict. This was a burden Emma did not need to carry, and she would if he explained.

The Belle said nothing for a few breaths, thinking about their tense evening. Then, “Prince Chevalier, why did you bring me to the anti-war faction’s meeting?”

He smiled. Emma was smarter than she gave herself credit for. Many of his courtiers would never have questioned why them, why there. But she knew he did nothing without cause. “This trip was not done in my official capacity as prince. It was personal. I simply wanted to spend time with you, as always.”

Her brow crinkled in puzzlement. “What?”

“You should be glad. You don’t have much time left at the palace, and I’m going out of my way to spend my days with you.”

Her gaze turned inward again as she considered his words. Emma rewarded him with a wide, joyful smile as understanding settled in. “Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

Chevalier chuckled. “If you have time to thank me, why not show me a scrap of this love, hm?”

“I . . .”

“You don’t know how, do you?” His smile grew. She was so ridiculously innocent. He almost felt guilty, teasing her. Almost, but not quite. 

Emma stammered. “I-I can’t show you something that you can’t see . . .”

“Mmm. Then are you going to give up?” He raised a brow. 

“No! Of course not! Absolutely not!” 

The outrage in her voice was adorable. Chevalier was set to tease her further, but the carriage hit a bump and jarred her from her seat. She fell right into his lap. Perfect.

“Ah! I’m sor-” Emma began to apologize but the words died on her lips as he wrapped his arms around her. 

He could feel the wild beat of her heart, the tremor of her breath. 

“Since you’re not giving up, and have leapt straight into my lap, tell me. What is it you plan to do on this long, dull trip back to the palace?” 

“Th-that was an accident!” Her cheeks went hot, and her pulse raced even faster. 

“For an accident -” Chevalier ran a fingertip along the edge of her lips, enjoying the tension desire built in him, and the answering need he could feel in the Belle.

Emma gave a shiver of pleasure at the touch. She had no words for him, only a wanton look.

“You seem to be awfully feverish.” He couldn’t help but smirk.

“Look. If the person you longed for was doing that to you -”

“Pfft. I’ve hardly done anything.” He settled her more firmly in his lap. “For someone who says she’s going to prove the value of love, you don’t seem familiar with it yourself.” He stroked her cheek with a calloused thumb. “You’re going to have a tough time, I think.”

“Ah - I - I -”

His fingertip traced along her jaw and back to her petal-soft lips. Parting them, finding the tip of her delicate pink tongue. He could feel the yearning, the need, coming from her. She was warm to the touch, hot against his lap. 

Emma pulled away, studying his face. “Why are you teasing me like this?”

“I’m simply playing around with a silly woman. After all, I have some free time here in the carriage.” He leered. “Won’t you let me enjoy myself a little?”

Genuine outrage flashed in her expression before the realization hit. “You - ugh. Please don’t start talking like Clavis.” 

Chevalier chuckled. “Don’t compare me to him.” He reached for her again, nudging the tip of her tongue as she opened her mouth to say something else. Her reaction was enchanting. She was so innocent. Not in all ways, but at least in the pleasures men and women took together. He knew she’d never been touched, teased, the way he wanted to. 

“Stop! Stop doing this to me!” She balled her fists and tried to turn away, but Chev caught her chin.

He wanted her to see that this was more than simply taunting her. Would she see what lay in his gaze? Could she, even now, read his heart? “You’ve read so many romance novels, yet you still know nothing of romantic entanglements.”

Emma did not deny it.

“You’ve never been this close to a man before.”

“Th-that has nothing to do with it!” The Belle pouted. “How can I get used to it when I long for you with my whole heart?” She took a shaky breath, trying to compose herself. “That’s why I feel so - so awkward right now.” 

She tried to remove herself from his lap, but Chevalier did not want to let go. “Feel as awkward as you like.”

“I don’t understand.” Her voice was high and small and nervous. 

He considered letting her go then. If she truly was afraid to be intimate, he would not force it. Never that. But her signals were mixed and he wanted to push her a little, to get her to admit what she wanted. What she would like to do. 

“I don’t mind the look on your face when you’re feeling this way.” Chevalier let go of her chin and let his fingers trail down her bare throat to her shoulder. She leaned into his touch with a slight gasp. 

He leaned close, pressed his lips to hers. Gentle as a kitten. Then he nibbled her lower lip, not a full kiss, just a taste. Chev pulled back, gauging her reaction.

Another tremor of pleasure, an audible sigh of pleasure. Her eyes were wide and hot. “What did you -”

“If you’re not a child, you should know.” He grinned.

“Of course I’m not a ch-”

Chevalier quieted her protest with another kiss. He’d meant to only taste again, but found himself indulging in the satin heat of her mouth. He felt greedy for her, as if he could never be satisfied. His tongue slipped the barrier, careening thirstily between her parted lips, teasing and tasting. 

Emma gave a little moan, and it nearly undid him. She gripped his shoulders, pulling herself closer, erasing the little distance between them until only the friction of their clothes divided the two. 

He forced himself to let go. To set her back on the seat opposite him. This was not the time, nor the place for these flames to catch. 

She looked as if she might protest, or question. But she was quiet, only watching him, and thinking. 

Chevalier knew what passed through her mind. Wondering what she was to him, what he felt. Fretting the undeniable cruelty of his tenderness.

“Hurry up and prove the worth of love,” he told her, and did not say because it will kill me to give you up.