#yves talks or yves writes are good tags?

[usurpator]

This was simultaneously one of the worst and best reading experiences of my life

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Would Yves join me on the anime fes :00 Cosplay with me even? Or does he simply here to accompany me while I do the photoshooting and buy silly stuffs from the booths? Love your writing and Yves 🫶

He would absolutely tag along, cosplaying with you too. Yves prefers to cosplay as characters that already look similar to him, but it has to be fully clothed. You might notice that he would cosplay as a feminine presenting character most of the time.

There will be stares as Yves could easily tower over everyone in the convention regardless of whether he is in cosplay or not. After the first few festivals, Yves would choose to dress up as a character that wears a mask. Because it annoyed him to no end that he kept getting scouted by modelling agencies. Yes, there would still be a good number of people who requested to take photos with him, but at least there is one less group to worry about. And no, it isn't flattering him that a good number of them think he should be a model.

He would buy you the merchandise that you want, but only to a certain extent. Yves believes that you should respect the things you own, because they help you with your day-to-day life, and you should be grateful for their purpose. If he thinks you are buying too much, that you would leave the majority of them to either dry-rot, mold or collect dust in your closet, Yves would stop you.

It's a different story if he knows you will eventually gift it to someone else, donate it, or you're simply buying to support the creator. He would gladly fork over his hard earned money to see you smile with glee.

Yves lets you hang out with your friends, or the people who generally do your photoshoots. But it would be a lie to say Yves's lower eyelid doesn't twitch in sheer irritation when he sees your camera person filming you in an awkward angle, everything they're doing is wrong, wrong wrong. It would be so much better if he did it, and it is true. Whatever he captures is of film-like quality, always getting your good sides and making you ethereal regardless of what shitty background is behind you.

He would get along fine with your friends. But you would notice he isn't interested in discussing any consumable media. Yves would only speak up if it's regarding you and how you act, any anecdote he can glean that mentions you, he will squeeze it out of them. And they're still so enamored by Yves, because he is just unbelievably hot and manipulative.

Yves would appear in pictures if you ask him to. But just like a certain prescription-glasses-wearing-professional-boxer, he prefers to be the photographer instead.

He would be walking around carrying a handbag that fits the theme of his outfit. It contains materials and equipment to fix your costume whenever it has a malfunction, a water bottle to keep you hydrated, deodorant, documents required (i.e., physical tickets, your ID, his ID, etc.), tasty homemade food neatly packed in a container because he doesn't trust the quality of the vendors there, your phone, your camera, any emergency medication... Yves is essentially your breathing, talking inventory.

You wouldn't need to worry about being responsible for your own belongings, or worry if a large backpack is going to ruin your cosplay, Yves will take care of that for you.

All he wants you to do is have fun and come to him when you're ready to leave or if you need anything at all.

And all he wants to do, is to observe you.

[bicayaya]

🏞️ country!au bea & yves

when leon asked beatrice if she could give his brother a ride, he forgot to mention which brother. all she knew was that it was someone younger than leon, as he clearly said “little brother”. that meant four options: yves, licht, nokto or luke. she would say “yes” independently, but deep down she was hoping for a specific someone…

🌲🐈💐💗

beatrice wasn’t sure if she believed in love at first sight, but she couldn’t deny that she felt something when she saw yves for the first time. a need to know more about him, to get closer. but finding a good reason to talk to him was almost an impossible mission. her best friend, maeve, told her everything she knew about him, which made bea feel even more captivated, but not even that helped her. she wasn’t the most outgoing person on earth, but she had never felt so nervous next to someone. the words just didn’t come. so the moment she entered the street of rhodolite farm and saw a blonde man waiting in front of the gate, her heart almost stopped.

🌲🐈💐💗

yves was 99% sure leon was messing with him. again. he should be used to it by now, but every single time a little voice in his head says “what if it’s serious this time?”. now, he was waiting in front of the gate, not exactly sure why. all his older brother said was that he found a solution to his problem. after waiting for a few minutes, he was ready to go back inside, but a pink pickup truck caught his attention. only one person in that ridiculous town owned a pink truck, and yves wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he knew exactly who it was, even though he never exchanged more than two words with her.

🌲🐈💐💗

after beatrice parked, for a few minutes they only stared at each other, in complete silence. she was the first to open her mouth, her voice way shyer than usual, saying something about how leon asked her to give yves a ride to the big city. and yves replied in an annoyed tone that his brother always decides things without consulting him and that he didn’t need a ride. he was ready to complain some more, but then he looked at bea’s face again. she looked so much like a sad little kitten that he just stopped talking. why was she making that face? she couldn’t be sad because of what he just said, could she? before even realizing his own words, he mumbled that “since she was going to the city anyways, perhaps he could seize the opportunity, but only because his favorite fabric just ran out” (it did not). beatrice smiled at his answer, a sweet smile that made yves look away. now he remembered why he never talks to her… even without any words, she made him feel way too weird.

in the end, they went to the city together for the first time. and the ride there was incredible awkward.

@keithsandwich @candied-boys @lorei-writes (tagging you guys bc you showed interest in my first post for this au 🥺)

[running-with-kn1ves]

Walla....kn1ves....genius big brain yandere writer....i just (re)found your Yves work (im sure you saw me freak out in the tags lmao) if you have the time/energy/inspo pls i beg you for a speck, a crumb, a droplette, ANYTHING of my baby Yves x fem!reader. I'm not sure how specific is too specific but I have a truckload of daydreams and prompts for this man dc im down BAD BAD for the way you write him. I'm not sure if this is too specific of a request but can it be yves holding himself back constantly because he wants to *romance* the reader but its so obvious he's itching for more until one day he finally snaps and takes her (specifically him giving her his virginity and whoops maybe going crazy when he finds out she isnt one)? I'm just obsessed with his characterization and want to see him in a ton of situations and feeling/reacting to different things. The stern dom undertones his whole vibe has disguised by a friendly foreign guide 🥵 The drabble of him was sooooo good and such a tease of his personality, it's so enticing hahaha. If that prompt is no good or doesn't inspire you then anything else is fine and ofc if you have no inspiration for Yves at all then that's a-okay too!!! Thank you sooooo much for thinking up that beautiful man and sharing him with us!!! Hope you enjoy your holidays💞💞💞

A/N: Ugh I'm so sorry I took so long in answering 😭😭 I was gonna write like a whole piece but my time has been cut dramatically, so please accept this poor little piece!! I was honestly so overjoyed at seeing your tags, it makes me so happy to see people's reactions to my stuff ┗( T﹏T )┛I wish I could have more time to write for this because I love the concept, I'm a huge fan of the "mysterious foreign guide who's just a little too friendly" kind of trope. Thank you so much for your support anon and I hope you enjoy this!! OG piece here for any of you nerds!

TW: Kidnapping, implied dubcon/noncon, manipulation

It wasn’t hard to notice Yve’s shift in behavior. Well, this shift out of many. When you first met him, he gave off a kind, well-meaning but nervous vibe. He did his best to show you around, to make you comfortable and converse with you in english to the best of his knowledge. That kind persona shifted into something more… desperate; obsessive, once he brought you back to his apartment. He was still kind, still well-meaning and observant to your needs. He apologized profusely when you got upset from how he kept you from leaving, promising that you weren’t missing anything important in class and that he could show you real culture instead! What could you learn from a textbook that would be better than seeing the country itself?

But time and time again, Yves made excuses to keep you inside, to make you stay by his side whether through photoshoots or studying, with him as your “teacher”. You had to learn the basics before taking such a “big” step out into his country, right? Unfortunately for you, Yve’s only taught information on the most trivial subjects. From words like “textbook” to “glass”, you were able to make meaningless sentences that wouldn’t serve you well in conversing with native speakers outside of Yve’s little apartment. Sure, it might help you occasionally, but it got you no where closer to understanding Yve’s rushed mumbling and incoherent rambling. 

With your sudden move to his apartment and his new change in conduct, Yves had slowly become less generous. He didn’t make as much of an effort to talk in english anymore, and made far less points to explain himself. You couldn’t tell what caused this new change-- a change that you were soon starting to accept as Yves showing his true colors. The man was still attentive to your needs, still caring and kind-- but the posessiveness that had slipped out almost entirely seemed to be taking hold. And while you’d think that a growing obsession would make it more beneficial to you-- it in fact, made your difficulty increase tenfold. Yves began to direct you on what you should wear, when you should eat, what you should do for the day.

 Not only that, but his attentiveness to…more intimate needs were far more prevalent as well. Whether it was bathing, or the need that pulsed between your legs, Yve’s was there to try and take care of it. You pushed him away multiple times, awkwardly trying to tell him that you were fine-- but it never seemed to stick. He always just looked at you with a tilted, confused expression, muttering in his native tongue as if he didn’t understand. So when the foreign guide began to sleep next to you instead of the cot on the floor, and began to press his morning erection agaist your backside sleepily, you knew your protests weren’t having any effect.

You would have walked right out of that teensy apartment the moment you felt he didn’t listen-- if you weren’t so afraid. If you weren’t afraid of the loaded handgun in his locked nightstand drawer, or how easily he could destroy your life at your new university-- which he mentioned offhand multiple times in a casual manner-- you would have walked out. The power he held against you, a foreign student with failing grades and no money, was too much for you to ignore. So, you decided to bide you time. It was only a matter of weeks until he got bored with you, you decided. But his new actions didn’t seem to prove that. 

In fact, the lustful, mischievous look he gave you that evening was the complete opposite. His scrawny frame jumped atop yours, hooking his hands behind your neck and leaning in to try and kiss you. He had planned an unusually fancy dinner, lighting candles you had never seen in his apartment before and bringing a bottle of wine with some italian takeout. You tried to question him about the mound of pillows and blankets on his balcony, the sudden romantic lighting, but the male only gave you a broad statement on how it was a “celebration” of sorts.

Yves’ sudden prowling mood after dinner wasn’t a complete shock-- considering you felt his eyes on you the entire evening-- but it still caught you a tad off guard. You tried to reject him, to push him away after each kiss, but it was done with such little effort and such great fear that you stayed silent once he muttered in an annoyed tone in his own language. Yves took your silence as a surrender, friskily lowering his hand under your shirt to caress your abdomen. He rambled against your flesh in half-english as he kissed you up and down, not afraid to let out vocal little noises of pleasure, or grunts of satisfaction ones he heard your breath hitch or a hum of desire come from your lips. 

But it wasn’t until he uttered a sentence with a familiar word, did you actually reply to him. You recognized the term from messing around with your friends, when you jokingly learned dirty words from your textbooks and the internet to use when you finally entered the country. You never expected to actually utilize them unless you went to a club or bar and happened to meet someone. One of those words, was ‘virgin.’ A more tame term compared to the bunch you had memorized, but one that you and your friends had idiotically decided to research. Though, it seemed your stupid endeavors had paid off. 

As Yves repeated himself, you began to understand the sentence a bit more. The man was seeming to imply… you were a virgin? Something about you both no longer virgin-ing? Maybe he was saying that he was going to ‘virgin’ you? You couldn’t figure out what he was trying to say, only mustering up the courage to poorly explain your sexual status to him, first in english and then in a broken version of his language. You tried to repeat yourself, thinking you might have said your statement wrong-- but Yve’s shocked expression and sudden lack of kisses seemed to prove you wrong. 

“You have…. Sex?” Yve put a hand to his mouth, eyes begging you to respond.

“Uh….yes?” You said with an awkward expression; you hoped he was asking what you thought.

Yve’s let out a choked gasp, looking as if you had crushed his heart in your palm. 

He looked down, voice cracking as he mumbled something incoherent, and likely not understandable to you in the first place. 

“I….I i’m sorry?” You tried to apologize, seeing how shaken Yves had become at finding out you weren’t as inexperienced as he. Despite his eagerness, you could tell he was new to trying to initiate something you had already grown long accustomed to, new to being so intimate. It was actually in part of his eagerness that you realized he wasn’t of the same sexual history. He was full of anticipation and desire, throwing caution and logic to the wind to fulfill what he had read in books and seen in films.

 Yves seemed to treasure the act of losing ones virginity far more than you had-- but you had only noticed it now. The candlelit dinner, the mood-fitting music-- your first experience was nowhere near as romantic. 

Yves seemed shaken, his low, almost sob-filled words growing heavier. He grew more aggressive, seeming to realize something now that he had processed this unexpected news. He had assumed you were just as much of an amateur as him-- that he’d be the one to “deflower” you in an act of passionate romance-- a bubble fantasy that had just been popped. But the male realized-- if he couldn’t have his desired outcome, he’d have to make due with what he had. Which was to make sure you’d fall to your knees, experiencing the best night of ‘passion’ that would make you never want to crawl to another man again. 

He was going to claim you-- to make it so those nights you spent with others never counted. 

You could only understand a fifth of what Yves breathily moaned into your mouth, once again jumping your bones though this time much more roughly. Before you could say anything further you had felt his quick hands unbutton your pants, his own thrown to the floor. He didn’t listen as you begged him to atleast let you move to the bed, where you would no longer be visible to prying eyes on the balcony. But he didn’t care-- Yves had already taken off his shirt, intent on ripping yours away too. He didn’t care anymore if this wasn’t going to be special for the reason he expected-- he was going to make sure you would be left with a night you wouldn’t forget.

[misty-moth]

I have seen you talk passionately about Leon. (From this RB : https://www.tumblr.com/misty-moth/736722062035615744/alright-so-ive-been-thinking-about-this-when)

If you want to, i would like to listen (read) you rant about Leon. Stay safe 💜

I did get very passionate 😂 I feel like I could write an essay on each character tbh, but especially Leon when it comes to plot.

If I were to add anything to what I said before, it would be explaining the “why are they always in the training grounds??”

Warning: this became another essay 🥲

To elaborate, I think the other princes are put in places/situations that show off their personalities. Examples: Yves/Licht in the gardens, Licht on town patrols/escort missions, Nokto establishing relationships outside of the palace, Chev/Clavis out on ~mysterious missions~. (Luke is sleeping somewhere, and we love that for him)

The reason I think location is so important for Leon is that he is a man of action. When I think of him, I don’t think of sitting in an office all day doing paperwork or in the training grounds shouting commands. That feels more like a comfortable fit for Jin.

Leon is a leader with great people skills— a trait that would go really well with seeing him interacting with citizens and showing his collaboration with them to solve issues/gather intel.

He’s a leader that’s incredibly street-smart— put him in situations where he has to problem solve on the spot. Where there isn’t an obvious solution, so he has to go with his gut.

He’s a leader who is an even match for Chev. I will die on this hill. “Chev is always right” when has Leon been wrong? “Chev is an astounding fighter” so is Leon, and he’s gone toe-to-toe with Chev. Their ruling styles are clearly and purposefully different, but I also think their “pr team” is out of whack, and I’ll explain that too.

See, Chev is incredible. He wants people to know that and respect/fear him accordingly. He is not shy about his ideologies, his intellectual and physical talents, and all the things that make Chev undeniably powerful. He makes sure people know.

Leon is incredible. He doesn’t want to intimidate anyone. He also isn’t shy about his ideologies, but he does his best to only flaunt his intellect and physical talents when talking won’t cut it. He has the people skills to solve issues without taking unnecessary losses. We’ve seen this many times.

Leon and Chev are both crazy interesting. If they were both given equal intel, they would be an unstoppable duo.

But if you were mc and had what felt like “an impossible to solve problem”, who would you go to? The guy who is always referred to as a genius, or to the guy who is always referred to as “nice”? I know Leon won’t flex his skills, but god I wish he would.

Okay, okay, this has become a whole essay, so I’ll just add a last thought:

Leon is also incredibly mature… and a damn good actor. It isn’t that his past isn’t hinted at in other routes, it’s that he doesn’t show anything that doesn’t need to be seen. He doesn’t want anyone to carry his burden or to see him differently. As far as coping goes, he’s probably doing the best. (To clarify: his trauma isn’t lesser, his coping is just stronger imo)

All of the princes have varying traumas, and we don’t know what they are until we read their route. So I truly don’t think that’s what he’s “lacking”. He doesn’t need to dwell in a past when he’s kicking the past’s ass. I want to see the emotional strength he’s gained kicking the future’s ass 😎

Also gonna tag @leonscape in case you’d like to read me ranting and raving again 😭

[vacantgodling]

re. about

you may call me: ren, renjamin, rimz, r.a.a, or vacant

refer to me with he/him pronouns (masculine nicknames like ‘king’ & terms of endearment like ‘dear’ or ‘sweetie’ are also good. just nothing overtly feminine like ‘queen’ is the gist)

i am 26 and my birthday is october 2

i am black, transmasc, neurodivergent, and queer (achillean or yknow gay if you want to be specific. i’m a fag ok.)

as a psa: i don’t care if minors follow me but i’m not your parent so proceed at your own risk.

aside from writing i like: playing video games (mostly overwatch, my special interest for a ridiculous amount of time. but also, legend of zelda & the sims), drawing (when it’s not annoying me), gothic literature & older books with flowery prose, the colors pink, black & gold, history, anime (older anime+demon slayer really), and i’m learning japanese (to the best of my ability. むずかしです)

re. wips

find a list of all my wips HERE! i work on them sporadically when inspiration strikes. find a wip sampler where i show off a piece of prose from the work to give you a sense of its vibe HERE!

if you’re interested in being on my taglists, fill this form out!

my 2023 year in review!

also, for ease of access: current tag games i’m doing (i want to keep track of it this year)

last line tag 2024

wbw 2024

ask games 2024 (general)

tcol character tournament!

re. connect

here are other places you can find me:

bluesky || cohost || pinterest

my partner yves and i make stories together, which is here -> @mothgrudge (i also rb a lot on @babylonsfalling)

i have a discord so if we’ve spoken feel free to ask for it (however i don’t really do servers. maybe one day, but for now no)

maybe this year i’ll work on an actual website & i’d love to make a youtube where i just talk about shit so… maybe, we’ll see...

re. navigation

talking -> musings and personal thoughts

about renjamin -> insight to me / who i am

ren analysis -> when i get meta about my wips

ren mix -> a treasure trove of my music taste

ren polls -> any polls i make

ren reads -> for my ramblings and analysis as i try to get back into books

friends tag -> talking with friends or boosting my friends work

others work -> boosting other writeblrs work

hall of fame -> praise / things that make me happy that i want to keep

ren writing -> all of my writing in one place

ren poems -> all of my poems in one place

short stories tag -> micro or flash fiction bits and bobs

ren art -> all my art

q eh you eh -> queue

sex mention -> tag for any sexual content.

worldbuilding -> all of my worldbuilding notes across all my wips

ren hot cakes -> specifically for my overly opinionated opinions

to read -> others works that i need to get around to reading

rens ocs but sims -> for when i make my ocs in the sims lol

ren plays -> me talking about video games but it’s usually overwatch

ren is jopping on main -> for the rare occasions where i talk about kpop

character stats -> when i decide to compare and contrast my ocs to see trends

ren rabbit hole -> i like history and mythology and the ancient world and i Will ramble about it

[lixenn]

Overview

Since I’ve come out of my introverted gremlin cave and started to actually work regularly on my writing as well as posting my stuff on here, I’ve decided to structure my blog a bit. Mostly to prevent people from getting absolutely lost in this chaotic mess.  

I will try to keep this as updated as possible but there might be a bit of a delay between me posting new content and updating this, so please keep that in mind.

General info

My Ao3 account

Tags

#just rambling Lix' daily life in a nutshell #art nook art tag #science talk science ramblings #ask answered ask tag (<- might change in the future)

Ask box

If you have questions about any of my projects or just want to randomly scream at me about any topic that comes to mind, my inbox is open. Bother me anytime!

Katekyo Hitman Reborn

The KHR discord server is now online! It's a general server for the fandom. If you want to join just drop me a DM and I'll send you the invite link.

KHR writing prompts

Prompts are open, just drop them in my inbox and I'll see what the nonsense generator can fabricate!

Prompt rules/intro

Dan and Celeste

Dan and Vlasta

The Housekeeping AU

#the housekeeping AU #khr daniele costa #khr dave #khr valerie rebner #khr vlasta gast #khr marina costa #khr cilmi #khr yves

This is me playing around in the Varia sandbox, come and join me in my weird delusions!

Witness how the Head of Varia Housekeeping (my OC) is slowly but surely driven insane by crazy Assassin bullshit, meddling assistants (aka Dave), mountains of paperwork and Mafia politics.

(Btw the concept of my Varia Housekeeping was inspired by Umei_no_Mai whose worldbuilding is absolutely Godtier. I kneel before their greatness.)

Character profiles

Chief aka Daniele

Dave

Ottavio under edit

Valerie Rebner

The Varia Housekeeping survival guide (WIP currently updating on Ao3)

When you are the overworked and underappreciated head of Varia Housekeeping who is sick and tired of cleaning up your employees’ corpses and decide to write up an instruction manual for dealing with Varia's insanity.

Detective Dave is on the case (complete on Ao3 but might add something later on)

Dave has never been able to resist a good mystery, so when one of his informants was suddenly murdered under suspicious circumstances, what else is he supposed to do other than immediately stick his nose into other people's business? ("Can you for once in your life not poke the sleeping dragon with a stick?" "But Chief! A murder mystery! Delivered right to my front door!" "..." "Hey, we are you going? Chief? Chief! I still need you to sign these forms! Come back!" )

This is my crossover with Myell's Killer Whale AU, so if you aren't familiar with her 'verse this story might be a bit confusing, I recommend checking her stuff out first a then coming back to this one. (Shamelessly advertising my Buddy's story again hehehehe)

Unnamed Sequel (in planning stage)

Unlike the Varia survival guide, this work will hopefully have plot and a coherent story line. I’m still very much in the idea finding phase, so no clue when this is going to be published.

I now have a rough outline for the story, main plot plus romance side plot (I say side plot when the romance outline is much more detailed... *silently despairs*).

Current edited chapter count: 2/?

I will keep you updated on this project via completely unhinged ramblings, so… look forward to that (and yes, that is a threat!)

Snippets

Dan and Dave's first meeting

Things Chief once said

The Couch™️

Tea time

Fanfic recs

I've decided to indulge myself and finally make a list some of my favourite KHR fanfics, feel free to check it out!

Fic recs

Naruto

How Uzushio was saved by drunken seal shenanigans (WIP kinda on hold)

The story of how Uzumaki Ren – explosion specialist, seal master and everyone’s favourite mad scientist – saves his village from destruction, revolutionizes the medical field, adopts a puppy, and gives his Kage an aneurism. Not necessarily in that order.

Note: I’ve updated this recently and I still have stuff for it prewritten (but nothing post-worthy just yet), but since KHR has overtaken all my brain space, I’ll probably won’t work on this for a while. I’m still super attached to my mad scientist baby Ren, so there will be more content! … Just in the very far future 😅

[cloudcountry]

i created my own ikemen wrapped for 2023. this is how i feel about the routes i played by the end of the year!!

this isnt spoiler free so tread carefully!!

IKEMEN VAMPIRE!!

im sorry jean you would have had a higher rating if i DIDN'T play your route. i'm mostly neutral towards a lot of them but i ADORE the top four. it becomes even funnier when you realize that the top four are the only ones whose routes i have completed.

i played isaac's route twice, shakespeare's route twice, vincent's route once, and arthur's route once. i started comte's route only to drop it, and i am currently on jean's route!! i did not diversify my suitors at all JAHSJASGHD

a memorable thing about each suitor i played this year:

one thing i remember about isaac is when he started to fall in love with her, the scene in the church when he tied that ribbon in her hair. i nearly choked when he called her darling, he was smiling so sweetly and holding her so close. it was such a tender scene.

( honorable mention to that certain fanart i was tagged in so many times that the op called me a true isaac lover or something along those lines. it made me really happy that so many people, even people i didn't know, knew how much i adore him. )

for will, my most memorable moment of him was when i realized i loved him after playing vincent's route. i hadn't cried that hard over a character's misfortune in a while, but will's always been good at giving me a rollercoaster of emotions.

( honorable mention to vio calling my love for will blinding, ive thought about it a lot ever since she said that C: )

my most memorable moment of vincent was when he tried so hard to make mc genuinely smile on her first few days in the mansion. he didn't want her to feel uncomfortable so he tried his absolute best to make sure she could be herself and be happy. he really is an angel.

for arthur, it is one hundred percent his apology to mc for almost biting her. i've never seen him look more like a sad puppy in my five months of playing and honestly, it was so nice to see him reflecting on his actions and actually being able to admit his feelings (since we know arthur isnt the best with that.)

( once again, honorable mention to my enemies to lovers arc with this man. he's really not as bad as he appears, he is one of the most tender hearted and sweet men in the whole game. give him a chance if your heart allows it!! )

even though i'm not done with either comte's or jean's route, comte's most memorable moment was when he called the mc strong in chapter one. it was nice too see someone acknowledge her situation and try their best to help her instead of biting her. side eye.

and on that note, i'm sorry jean but your most memorable moment is the only one that made me angry. i hate that he bit her and i hate that the writing just skipped past it like it meant nothing. im blaming this on the writing itself because i believe jean's route is a good route so far, but it would have been so much better if it had a different beginning. but if i pick one that was actually wholesome, i'd say whenn he took her to the field of lilies and said the flowers were very her.

i started playing on july 2nd, 2023!! and what a journey it has been ^^

IKEMEN PRINCE!!

my first route was yves!! i wanted to play licht's first but people talked me out if it because his route is HEAVY!! i ended up playing rio's, then licht's, then nokto's, then i played about halfway through clavis's before keith's route was released. i played keith's route twice and then hopped back over to clavis, and i'm currently finishing up his route!!

a memorable thing about each suitor i played this year:

when mc chased after yves when he was leaving for obsidian just to tell him she loved him i was SCREAMING. i remember really admiring how much strength it must have taken to go to the kingdom that abandoned you.

for rio, it was 100% the discussion he had with nokto about how he doesn't want to be with mc because he might put her in danger by being with her, but ultimately he can't help himself. that was such a good insight into his character.

licht's route was. intense. and because of that it was packed with moments that i agonized over. but overall, i think what nokto told mc about how the closer she got to licht, the more she was hurting him stuck with me the most. it really showcased the bond between the twins and sent a knife through my heart :C

i actually forgot i played nokto's route and skipped right over him, and that probably says a lot LMAO oops. honestly i thought his route's pacing was weird but the romantic ending was very cute. the most memorable moment from his route wasnt even a cute one HELP!!! when mc straight up slapped him for no reason and he was like "oh so slapping me helps you huh??" and she was like " :(( no...." and then they made out like WHAT!!!

clavis is also a very memorable person, and after spending a lot of time analyzing him i know why so many people love him now. something that really stuck with me was his philosophy on government and how the current ruler decides whats right and wrong. i think the same about people in power so it was nice to see my sentiments reflected in a prince.

oooh its time for my favorite prince!! keith also had a lot of memorable moments and ive been sitting here for like ten minutes trying to pick out the best ones.

for nice keith, i'd say the moment when he told mc he would try his best to stop saying "a guy like me" and "i'm sorry" over and over. it really touched me because i know how hard it is to break that habit and it made me really happy when he said he'd try ^^

wicked keith was such a TEASE but the most memorable moment with him was when he and mc went out to that cafe and he actually answered a lot of her questions. i know that may seem trival but it felt like a sigh of trust to me and that felt really sweet.

( honorable mention to the scene were they gave mc the earrings they picked out for her during the christmas event, i actually cried. )

i started playing on july 11th, 2023!!

IKEMEN REVOLUTION!!

my first route was kyle ash and honestly i'd say for a guy i don't like romantically his route was very memorable. he's a great first route and if anyone is a bit indecisive as to who they want to pick i'd definitely recommend him!! ANYWAYS moving on, i played harr's route next, then edgar, zero, jonah, then i tried playing ray's but he was being stinky so i started lancelot's route.

a memorable thing about each suitor i played this year:

like i said, kyle had one of the best route i've ever read. listen to vivi aka the ikerev authority people. i remember lots of bits and pieces from his route, such as his determination to keep people alive, his pig goo, mc making him soup so he wouldnt drink himself to sleep, his gentle care for her once he figured out he liked her, how he pointed out the full moon and told her she could go home and was happy when she chose to stay, how he waited until everything was over to let her know how he felt, how he DIDNT DRINK on the night he wanted to make love to her, OUOTUOROUGUOUROHGH IM TELLING YOU HIS ROUTE WAS TOP TIER. but the thing that stood out to me the most was how him and mc worked together to save amon, and furthermore, to uphold kyle's principles. it was so heartwarming when mc told him to stick to what he believed in (even if i wanted to punch amon's teeth out during that scene)

i would keep talking about kyle's route but i have to move!! on!! because harr's route was peak domesticity. the first time he took his mask off in front of mc is one of my favorite moments (i actually did a happy little dance when i saw the other half of his face ehhe) because it shows such beautiful trust in her and arghgougohugo INSANE.

the most memorable moment of edgar's route was absolutely when he was so hesitant to let alice hold his hands, but when she takes them so comments on how warm they are. it was such an emotional moment because edgar was definitely feeling very complicated but alice was still there for him. i love them together :((

( honorable mention to vio saying i was alice reincarnated when i talked about that scene were they were all calling sweets evil LMAO that made me very giddy ^^ )

( second honorable mention to edgar asking mc if she thought pickles were a wolf in sheep's clothing??? weirdo. )

i was intrigued by zero all the way back in harr's route, and i started to really like him during edgar's route when he was trying his best to protect mc, which was really sweet. absoLUTELY the most memorable moment in his route was when he was fighting against the magic tower and he emerges from the rubble with an injured arm and a smile, just to tell alice "i'm home." i was crying like a BABY. zero i love you. please marry me.

jonah's route is a classic and a fan favorite, and i can see why. he starts out being arrogant and hell (and its irritating tbh) BUT he melts so quickly under gentle love and care. anyways, the red army routes seem to have a theme of giving up your position for what you believe is right because it happened like three times okay!! and jonah became a "traitor" to the red army just to protect alice. it was him and her against cradle and i will NEVER forget that.

lancelot's first impression was really bad but after playing all the red army routes and finally, his own route, i've grown to like him a lot. what really sticks out to me about his route is when he takes mc away from the dance floor because they're being stared at and they have a heart to heart. he tells you a single white rose would suit her or smth along those lines and when i looked up the meaning and saw it meant hope and renewal i DIED.

i started playing on july 27th, 2023!!

IKEMEN SENGOKU!!

my first route for sengoku was mitsunari, then kenshin, then kennyo, then sasuke, then kanetsugu, then yoshimoto. the only routes that didn't bore me to death at the end were mitsunari's, kennyo's (i was actually shocked when the route ended, it felt like the perfect length to me), and sasuke's. i can't speak for yoshimoto though since i just started. i feel like ikesen has a tendency to reallyyyy stretch out the routes but maybe thats just me.

a memorable thing about each suitor i played this year:

mitsunari was such a good first route for me, and the most memorable part of his route was definitely when he challenged nobunaga for mc. not only was it unexpected but i was so proud of him for betting so much on his plan AHGRHGG mitsunari my beloved.

kenshin's route was crazy but EASILY the best part was when mc rode into battle with an army of her own to stop kenshin from FLATTENING the country. she kicked ASS and earned the title "goddess of war" for what she did and that was so cool of her.

i played kennyo's route because of the parallels between him and kenshin and WOW i did not regret it. his route was phenomenal but the most memorable part was when mc and him buried the bell that kennyo had kept with him to remind him of all the lives he felt he was at fault for losing. it symbolized finally letting those people have their peace, and furthermore, kennyo's inner peace. it was beautiful.

sasuke really got me when he THREW himself into battle with kenshin after kenshin lied about him and mc liking each other. sasuke's desperation to let her know that he couldn't stand her being with someone else made my heart RACE. it was so nice to see a suitor finally being on the more "selfish" side.

kanetsugu's route had the Wonderful experience of mc carrying a head!! a decapitated head!! and while i'm sure he has a lot of cute moments (one of them being when he told mc he loved her and she FREAKED OUT) I CANNOT GET OVER MC PICKING UP A DECAPITATED HEAD LIKE ITS NOTHING!!! shes a trooper.

yoshimoto's route gives you the unique (and memorable!!) experience of a warlord actually viewing you as a friend instead of an enemy!! (keep in mind this is coming from someone who has only played ONE oda forces route. im constantly on the "enemy side" oops) i thought his mindset was very refreshing after months of "oh nooo we cant see each other we're enemiesssss"

i started playing on july 27th, 2023!!

this took me so long to write oh my goodness. it was fun though!! im thinking about how all of this information is only five months worth of playing so i dont know how im going to handle TWELVE MONTHS PLUS A NEW GAME but i'll figure it out. i might leave the fandom before then idk!! who knows!! but anyways thank you if you read my thoughts i love sharing them even though i know its a lot hehehe

[honeylikesyanderes]

this has been in my drafts since like february oml

anyways

i hope you enjoy!

18+ only. minors please dni

warning: contains yandere themes, socially unacceptable behaviours, a lil bit of mental health talk, slight/implied nsfw, gn reader, lowkey unfair power dynamics (typical honeylikesyanderes trope 🤌🏽)

yves' name is pronounced as eve

requests are open btw! ask anything or drop any thirsts/headcanons/ideas into my inbox and i’ll write asap :)

(y'all please reblog this, it isn't showing in the tags :(((( )

-------------------------------------------------------

yves falor

yves falor - the therapist.

age: 25

birthday: oct 23rd

physical attributes:

back length golden blonde hair

bright blue green eyes

6'3

very pale skin

slim build

is actually stronger than he looks

has a calm, yet deep voice

his tone is always cheeky/teasing

always smirking

personality traits:

is very cheeky

gentle yet rough around the edges

a great listener and very helpful

he has a calming personality; people naturally feel comfortable around him

he isnt super sensitive but some subjects are a bit touchy for him

is a risk taker

and he’s very emotional but he avoids showing it too much

bad at picking up social cues

meeting you:

after many months of battling your mental health and emotional turmoil, you decided it was time to seek help

fortunately, your friend bhodi had a brother who happened to be a therapist

you were a bit anxious about reaching out to make the appointment, so bhodi helped you out.

on the day of your appointment, you almost chickened out

you didn't want to go to a therapist because you were scared of being judged

plus you had read multiple horror stories of therapists that ended up traumatising their patients even more

bhodi was at work so he asked his partner to give you a ride

you ended up telling them about your fears and they reassured you that bhodi's brother was a professional and a good therapist

they dropped you off at the office and waited with you till it was time for you to go in, making sure to give you a big hug before leaving.

when you walked in, you were expecting to see a middle aged or older person, but you ended up seeing a young man that looked similar to bhodi

the only differences were that his hair was longer and he had more piercings than bhodi.

you felt more comfortable because he had a familiar face and aura, plus he was around your age, so hopefully he would understand you better right?

yves, on the other hand, was internally screaming

he finally gets to meet the person he'd heard so much about

the person that he's always fantasized of meeting

the person that stole his heart without speaking a word to him.

when bhodi mentioned that you needed a mental health professional, he jumped at the opportunity

he needed to get close to you

and this was the perfect chance.

are they aware that they are a yandere? are they bothered by it?

yves knows he's a yandere. and he knoss its not normal to be like this; but he doesn't want to change. he believes no one can love you as much as a yandere does, so why would he go out of his way to make himself love you less?

yandere tendencies:

yandere type: delusional/clingy/manipulative

to be fair, yves is a realistic yandere

he knows that he's weird and thia isn't normal

but he's delusional because he always has excuses made up or he always finds a way to justify his yandere behaviour

he's also very clingy and caring

he uses this care to worm his way into your heart

because, who doesn't want a caring man?

yves is also lowkey the stalker type

he'll make multiple burner accounts to follow your social media

and if you block one account, he'll use another

he has your post notifications on and will always be the first person to like any post you make.

in real life, yves will approach you romantically, but it will take some time

he wants to use his therapist position to get close to you, yes

but he actually wants to see you get better first and he actually cares about being a good therapist.

he'll tell bhodi about his feelings for you and will ask him for help

tbh, yves obsession with darling is really bhodi's fault

if bhodi didn't talk about you so often or didn't show him pictures of you all the time, then he wouldn't be yandere for you, now would he?

oh yeah btw, yves will manipulate you and/or any love interest you have, so the relationship will breakdown

whether its telling you thar they're bad for you or they're one of the root causes of your issues, he'll do it

yves would rather go down the mindfuck route rather than outright murder.

(he will commit murder tho)

when yves and darling start dating, yves' obsessive behaviour will increase but his outward expression of toxic yandere behaviour will decrease

yves is generally a sweet yandere and he actually would do anything for his darling and to make them happy

fun facts/trivia:

yves is a secretive person. he doesn't lay all his cards on the table with most people, but with family and close friends, he's very open

bhodi is his younger brother and he's close to his cousins angel and priest.

he and angel usually get tattooed together

he has 20/10 vision

yves has a degree in both psychology and neuroscience (double major)

yves is very popular with the ladies (and men and enbys) and has a lot of people interested in him romantically and sexually. (therefore you'll have a lot of love rivals 💀)

yves and bhodi used to look very similar when they were younger, and one time, yves cut his hair to look like bhodi and wrote multiple exams on his behalf.

unfortunately, after puberty, due to voice changes and physical build, they could easy be differentiated.

yves likes to write handwritten love letters to his darling and has a box full of the ones he's never sent to you

this will continue even after yall start dating.

he categorises them by content: yellow envelope for sweet and loving words, pink for compliment relays and red for spicy content.

there are so many red envelopes in his bottom left desk drawer

(if you wanna explore more yandere ocs, feel free to check out the masterlist!)

[frozen-fountain]

Ten Songs, Ten People

Tagged by the lovely @late-to-the-fandom.

Rules: Put a wip/character/etc playlist on shuffle and list the first 10 songs that come up. Describe how they relate to your WIPs or worldbuilding.

Tagging: @hrh-spinach, @ourspecial, @bowieandthemickjaggernauts, @laboradorescence, @keioschaos when you get home, @punkass-diogenes, @the--calamity, @visualheresy, and @danceswithdarkspawn. You guys all seem to have interesting taste in music so I'd love to see what you come up with.

Without further ado, and from my multi-fandom plot bunny playlist:

How to Be Invisible by Kate Bush

This is the Shera song for me. It's even the working title (probably to be discarded) of a fic I want to write centered on her, in which learns the deceptive power that can come with being small and easily overlooked. Ostensibly my attempt at a tournament arc, she's going behind enemy lines to do some espionage none of the loud and identifiable main cast could ever get away with.

Sleep is a Curse by Maudlin of the Well

I've been finding this one really useful for getting into Cloud's post-canon headspace as I see it. Ostensibly excited for everything they're doing to make it up to the planet for allowing them a second chance, he's still dissociating his way through village council meetings, fixating on his mistakes, and wondering if humanity enjoying a brief moment of singularity before the end wasn't the better option after all.

Rings of Earth by Kayo Dot

If this series had an anime adaptation I'd want this as the ED. Walking around with the ghosts of the industrialised old world at every turn.

Gospel For a New Century by Yves Tumor

An instrumental version of this was my mental soundtrack for the gang's slow motion entrance into the museum during the Dulosis heist. Plus, I was listening to this album a ton during the early days of lockdown which is when I was first gahtering my ideas for this project, so it always takes me back.

Church Burns by Zeal and Ardor

I couldn't get this one out of my head when I was writing Barret arguing with his id in the form of Dyne, and the shards left behind from everything that happened in Corel and then Midgar.

Killing Game by Skinny Puppy

This is my go-to "Moment of unpleasant revelation and subsequent breakdown" song, and I currently associate it most strongly with Vincent's trip to Gongaga and realising what he should actually feel guilty about.

The Cockfighter by Scott Walker

I find this avant-garde composition about the trial of Adolf Eichmann surprisingly great for writing action to. If it's a really ugly, bloodthirsty, gritty fight, at least. The shifts and lulls in its tone and rhythm work really well in guiding bouts of exhaustion and trash talk and renewed energising vitriol.

Maw by Chelsea Wolfe

I played this on repeat when I wrote my Anima fic, but it's a good song in general for handling the liminal and suspended feeling that comes with a significant shock or loss begins to sink in.

Love Song by Susumu Hirasawa

I played this as I wrote, rewrote, and edited Elmyra and Marlene watching the lifestream rise, and I can't listen to it without crying anymore.

Then Came the Wave by Atoma

I associate this one with the World of Ruin in FFVI, and particularly Celes alone on the raft, not knowing what if anything waits for her beyond the island she woke up on but facing down the horizon anyway.

[yves-a]

hi u fine? i hope so

well im here to write abt danganronpa etc etc

y'know like these other blogs who write abt danganronpa yeet

THIS IS NOT PRETTY IDK HOW TO MAKE THINGS PRETTY IM A SIMPLE MAN FORGIVE ME Y'ALL

alright

so i tried making a carrd bc why not its easier than writing all abt me here ((focus on the word "tried"))

here it is, you should definitely read

soo, i dont put it in the carrd bc i kinda forget but i do hcs oneshots angst fluff matchup kin bla bla bla most of the things, i just dont do nsfw bc im 16 years old (a minor) and that makes me uncomfortable

and you can call me yves ((thats my name)) i dont rlly like being called by mod *some character* but if you dont feel comfortable calling me yves you can call me the way you prefer idc abt it really

alright i think i said everything

I KNOW I MAY NOT SEEM A GOOD WRITER BC OF MY ENGLISH ETC OR MAYBE THE WAY I SPEAK BUT GIVE ME A CHANCE BROS IM GOOD I PROMISE (thats what my momma say to me everyday

((i know i didnt put commas in the text but i swear i know how to use them im just a bit lazy))

alright so i think thats the part where i ask for a promo and get ignored bc man what a bad introduction

would you all give this poor man a promo?

@papillon-writes @toko-writing-imagines @s-serendipit-y @monotaro-comfort-imagines @rqntaro-amami @autumn-writes @constellation-wifi @ibuki-loves-you

((idk what tags to putttttttt

[yvesdot]

How To Read Poetry When You Don’t Know Anything About Poetry

(With the disclaimer that you can read anything however you want, and this is more for people who want to analyze poetry in a traditional academic manner, whether for school or personal enjoyment, but don’t know where to start.)

I am very bad at poetic analysis. I’m okay at prose, but when it comes to poetry something in me snaps and I just don’t know where to start. Here’s an amalgamation of things I’ve learned from papers I keep around, which are the only reason I passed Literature classes where we read poetry.

The Basics

Just write down all the simplest things. Historical context for the author, title of the poem, audience for the poem, style (freeform, sonnet, etc etc.) List everything you can know for fairly certain, and begin discussing their significance. Can you think of alternate titles? Would this poem look different today, and why? 

Some Less Objective Matters

This is where you start underlining words and making cases. What tone does the poem have? Who is the speaker, and what message are they attempting to relate? Ask yourself what everything does for the poem-- not just what it literally means, but what effect it has. Start with things like alliteration and branch out to entire lines. If you delete this random word, or use a synonym, how does it sound and read?

Do Some Research

In case you haven’t ended up on Google yet, go to Google. Find out what other people are saying. Take into account their position-- is this an academic writing a paper, or someone leaving a review on a blog? What do people in your position say? What do people who have spent a long time studying poetry say? You can learn quite a bit from the ongoing discussion.

Address Your Confusion

Questions are fantastic. Questions are wonderful. If you’re confused about something, that is the ultimate jumping-off point because you’ve showed an interest in a specific aspect of the piece. Again, research comes in handy, but there’s also something to be said for crystallizing these questions for yourself and discussing them on the page to see what you find. 

Turn Your Hatred Into Knowledge

Let’s be honest: sometimes we hate the things we read. This is not only reasonable but great! Really dig into why you feel the way you do-- whether hatred, love, joy, sadness, boredom-- and ask yourself how the piece accomplishes this. It it using a meter you don’t like? Does this alliteration seem too simple? Feel free to use your opinions to formulate an analysis.

Remember that it’s fine to be confused and to have ambiguous perceptions of a piece. In my opinion, the best analysis is one that encourages other perspectives and acknowledges other possibilities. If you’re stuck in class or on your own when trying to interpret a poem, but you really want to try, this is what I’ve used to get my thoughts started. Happy reading!

[ikehoe]

Like Usual [Licht x Reader][Smut]

Characters ↬ Licht Klein, Fem! Reader

Rating ↬ Explicit (Smut – mdni)

Tags ↬ Slight Angst, Jealous Licht, Established Relationship, Smut, PIV, Cunningulus, Demanding and Needy Licht, Fluff end.

Description ↬ Your sweet, loving boyfriend, Licht, usually makes it a point to see you as many times as possible throughout the day. So what happens when he avoids you all day because he sees something that has him jumping to all the wrong conclusions?

A/N ↬ I am always up to write some Licht smutty goodness. Our baby wolf deserves the world and more. Hope you enjoy! (◕ᴥ◕)

Disclaimer ↬ I do not own the rights to Ikemen Prince or any of the Ikemen series games.

Wordcount ↬ 2k

To you, it was a day like any other. You wake up like usual, ready to take on the duties for the day. You dodge Rio's over-the-top proclamations of love, like usual. You participate in your studies with the terrifying King's Regent, Sariel, like usual. You even have tea and raspberry chocolate cake with the kind fifth Prince, Yves, like usual. Yet, unlike usual, your silver-haired lover doesn't steal you away between your routine activities to press a chaste kiss to your lips or fuss over how you're pushing yourself too hard.

The curious absence of your lover weighs on your heart the entire day. When you ask Leon about your lover's whereabouts, the fourth Prince tells you that Licht has been carrying out his duties as he usually does. Despite Leon's best intentions to answer your question, his answer only brings more doubt to you. Unfortunately, before you can go to find your lover, your attention was stolen away again by another usual task for you to take care of.

When day turns to night, and you retire to your room, a tiny part of you holds onto the hope that your lover will be there waiting for you. Ruby eyes twinkling with that rare joy he shows only you. Wiry, silver hair reflecting off the rays of the moonlight. Exquisite, delicate features highlighted by his alabaster skin. You had always been attracted to him, but fear of scaring him off rendered you unable to examine his beauty at the beginning. That is until you two confessed your love for each other and started dating. After that, there wasn't a day that went by where you weren't amazed that someone as wonderful and kind as the sixth Prince harbored feelings for you – a commoner.

"There you are!" You approach him with thinly-veiled glee, only to have your heart sink to the pit of your stomach when you see the pained expression on his face. "Licht? What's wrong?" Your hands reach for his face, eager to soothe him. The urge you have to wrap your arms around his lithe body is overwhelming. Right as your fingertips are about to make contact with his skin, he flinches and pulls away. To say that your heart breaks into two at his action is an understatement. Confusion, distress, and fear begin to swirl around your mind as you wonder what it is you've done to cause him to act like this towards you. "What… Licht… Did I do something?"

"I saw you with him."

And those five words are enough to send your mind off into a million other questions. The hurt behind your lover's eyes is so overwhelming you have to take a couple deep breaths just to ask him your next question.

"What are you talking about?" Your voice is meek, and you feel your hands begin to tremble.

"Earlier, I saw you and Nokto together…. I went to go find you after your morning studies and…." He trails off, eyes cast to the side once more.

His words drag you back to reality, and your gaze immediately softens. However, the urge to wrap yourself up in his arm returns, and you have to try with all your might to hold yourself back. "Licht, nothing happened. Nokto was just talking to me about an invitation to an upcoming event that a nobleman is holding… Sariel asked that I attend."

Your explanation does little to ease the aching of his heart, and you can tell. Your lover had always been cautious around you, always felt like he wasn't good enough – but the truth of the matter was it was the opposite. Thankfully, he allows you to gently grip his chin in your hands, and you guide his gaze to your own.

"But… You looked so happy…." His voice trails off into a whisper. The fists hanging loosely at his sides are clenched so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

"Licht, look at me. I promise you nothing happened between Nokto and me. I love you, and I would never do anything to jeopardize that. I can't imagine being with anyone else other than you… You're the one that makes me happy, Licht. You, not anyone else, not Nokto, not Yves, not any other person in this world makes me as happy as you."

And all of a sudden, he has you pressed tight against his chest, hands cradling your head. The furious beating of his heart is deafening, and you realize just how much stress he must have been holding onto the entire day. "I don't deserve you. I'm selfish, and I'm a sinner, and I don't deserve you – but I can't help it… I want you to look only at me." His cheeks are dusted with the lightest of pinks, and his eyes are gazing at you like you're the only thing that matters to him in the world. Without wasting another moment, he crashes his lips onto yours, stopping you from protesting his self-hatred. The kiss is all-consuming, possessing, and you brace yourself against his body as your knees go weak.

"Mn—, Licht." A wanton moan of his name slips from your mouth, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your hot cavern, sensually rubbing it against every inch of your mouth.

"I want to make you feel good… I want to make it so you'll only ever want to look at me. I want you to be mine and only mine," he whispers, eyes brimming with desire and love.

"Of course, Licht. I love you." And then he's pushing you back onto the soft plush mattress of your bed. He doesn't give you a moment to catch your breath. Right as your head hits your pillow, he's pulling down your already soaked panties and pushing the fabric of your skirt up above your torso.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful." Those ruby orbs peek out from his half-lidded gaze, and he licks his lips. Though he may be captivated by you, the sight of him is equally as arousing, and you find it near impossible to tear your eyes away from his face. He senses your gaze on him and quickly flicks his eyes up, shooting you the sexiest smile as he begins to gently caress your folds with the most feather-light touch. Yet, it isn't enough for you, and both of you know it.

"Don't tease me, Licht." The whiny way in which those words slip out from your mouth is embarrassing, but the smirk on his face only grows.

"If you want more, then you have to indulge me… Who do you belong to?" His sensuous gaze stokes the flames deep within your body, and another wanton moan slips from your lips.

"Y—you."

"Good." And as though doling out a reward, he gently eases a finger into your needy core at your words. His head begins to lower, inching closer and closer to your dripping cunt. All you can do is fist your sheets in your hands as he licks a stripe along your folds, gathering your arousal between his lips. "Who makes you feel this good?" He asks, garnet eyes peeking out from his position nestled between the apex of your thighs. As he waits for your response, his tongue begins to lavish the sensitive nub at the top of your folds. You're barely able to muster out a haphazard response and your legs are twitching at the pleasure he's giving you.

"You. Licht, please, I need more," you beg. The slow pace he set had you teetering back and forth from your release. Thankfully, he seems to offer you a bit of respite as he eases in his middle finger and begins to coax his digits against that sweet spot in you. "—Mn! Right there!" Your lids are squeezed tight as you feel waves of pleasure begin to crest over you. "I--, I--, I'm co—oh gods." As the pleasure of your release crashes over you, the only thing you're able to do is stammer out incoherent babbles as you rut against your lover's mouth.

"You're so beautiful… I want you to look at me when you come around my fingers." And you certainly weren't going to resist his command. Your eyes fly open, and the lewd sight of your lover continuing to lap at your dripping cunt is so erotic that you continue to ride out your release. The way he's able to bring wave after wave of pleasure to your body is nothing short of incredible. Not to mention, his stamina that was honed from years of training resulted in many restless nights between the two of you.

Finally, when you come to your senses, you needily reach for his face and bring him up towards you. Your arousal is slick against his lips and chin, and you almost feel embarrassed at just how wet it is. "I—I'm sorry, I didn't know I got this much on y--." You begin to try and apologize to him for the mess on his face, and he quickly captures your lips in a sloppy kiss.

"Don't apologize. You're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted. Even better than those sweets you make. If I could just have you, over and over, I'd be happy," he whispers against your lips. Your hands move to tug at the waist of his pants, and he quickly gets your hint. It's evident how much he desires you as your eyes ghost over the hardened bulge straining against the fabric of his pants.

He makes quick work of removing his clothing and freeing his manhood from the confines of his undergarments. His cock, thick and hard, springs up. You can't help it when your mouth begins to water as you take in how pleasing it looks. "I need you in me, Licht," you whine, wrapping your legs around his thin waist when he positions himself over you.

With your plea, he gently thrusts his hips forward, and his manhood begins to stretch your needy heat. The delicious stretch has you whining, and you can think about is how you need more of him. Not to mention that absolutely sinful groan that slips from his mouth that has you ready to take in all of him. Your fingers thread through his wiry strands, and you bring his lips down to yours in another crushing kiss. "—Mn, fuck, I want all of you, Licht," you whisper against his lips.

And he's nothing if not a slave to your pleas to him. He sheathes himself inside of you in one go and begins to thrust into you, reveling in the way your eyes roll back into your head and your needy cunt clenches around him. "' Ngh, y—you're so fucking beautiful," he curses, feeling as though he's ready to spill his seed deep in you already. With all the concentration he can muster in the moment, he wills himself to stave off his impending release and instead wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you even closer to his muscled torso.

The new angle he's shifted you into has his thick manhood pressing directly against the sensitive, sweet spot within you. The only thing you can do at that moment is to continue calling out his name as he thrusts into your sweet spot, over and over, until you are delirious with pleasure.

"Angh, Licht, ri—right there, please, right there!" You cry, voice muffled by his lips still pressed against yours in an all-consuming kiss. Lips moved against lips in fervor as he deepened the kiss, wanting you to reach your release again.

And with one final thrust, you're thrown into your release once again, whole body shuddering and cunt spasming against his manhood as he continues chasing his own release. His lips pull away from yours, and his garnet eyes are widened, taking in the way you moan his name, the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, the sensation of your fingernails digging into his shoulders. If there was something in the world he could commit to his memory forever, the image of you coming undone would be it.

When he finally comes, he thrusts his manhood deep into your core, sheathing himself to the hilt. The pulsating sensation from his cock can be felt even within the depths of your heat as he shoots his seed deep within your walls. His lips are latched onto the sensitive skin of your neck as he rides out the last of his release, leaving a delicate purple mark against you.

After a few moments pass, your breathing evens out and Licht shifts, softening member still in you, bringing you with him, so you're laying on top of him. Your head lifts up, and you gaze at your lover with an exhausted smile on your face. "I missed you today… Promise me you'll come to see me tomorrow, like usual?"

He gazes back at you tenderly, hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. With his heart full of adoration and love for you, he knows that despite the darkness he sees, you will always be the one that guides him into the light.

"I promise."

Tag List ↬ @atelier-maroron @aquagirl1978 @kleeps @ikesimp100 @chaosangel767 @devildomwritersposts @themysticalbeing @and-then-she-died-tm @kpop-and-otome @rhodolitesroseforclavis @curious-skybunny @moonstruck-writing @lordsister If you're interested in being tagged (or untagged) in future fics, please DM me, comment, or fill out this form.

[white-poppie]

— ⋆｡°✩ 𝐆𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀 (gāuree)

16 ﹒Indian🇮🇳﹒sanatani 🕉 ﹒INFJ-T (2w1/9w1) Author. Highschooler, Psychology Student, Artist, Aspirant Lawyer

she/her ♀ || Straight (ally) 🫂 18th September 2007 (☀ - ♍) ﹒(🌙- ♐) ﹒(Rising: ♍)- no idea what these mean tho (can speak and write) Hindi, English (can understand fully) Odia, Bangla, Marathi

— TR0PE: Melancholic MC, Anti-Nihilist, Knight in Sour Armor, Hurting Hero, Living Emotional Crutch, Anti-hero

— JUNGiAN ARCHETYPE: The persona: Caregiver (ego) The true self: Sage (self) The Shadow Self: Melancholy

— AESTHETiC: Dark Academia, Chaotic Academia, Light Academia, Dark feminine, Dark Coquette

⬆: kind, caring, motherly, affectionate, understanding, accepting, loyal, honest, mentally strong, thoughtful, wise, calm ⬇: overthinker, anxious, perfectionist, putting others' need first, can be manipulative due to good analyzation skills, clever, moody, bottling up, (door slamming)

— LiKES: books, kpop, kdrama, anime, art, dance, plants, yves saint laurent, fountain pens, leather journals, baking cookies ! bts, txt, mamamoo, blackpink, jackson wang, jessi, mitski, mäneskin, lana del ray, melanie martinez, chase Atlantic ! & u ♡

— DiSLiKES: loud noises, exams, eye checkups, bitter gourds, carrots, tomatoes, capsicum, colleen hoover's books, booktok books that get famous because of excessive smut

PRSNL TAGS! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ (Feel free to block any if you follow me for specific content, I forget these a lot)

#white poppie's moots (mutuals)

#white poppie talks (opinions+ everything not related to official content)

#white poppie does stupid things (self-explanatory)

#white poppie is obsessed with kpop (again^^)

#﹒⟡Gauricore (aesthetics)

#poppie's thoughts! ₊ ⊹ ⟡ (me giving my opinions on characters / things --requested)

🎧 ⌒ ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁 (music recs)

[5lazarus]

Masterlist of My Stories

My Writing

Every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday, I post a snippet of what I'm currently working on.

On Mondays, I post the last lines of the stories I'm finishing up, as well as lessons learned from the previous week. I post this under the tag #last line monday and #lessons from the week.

On Wednesdays, I throw up a snippet of fanfiction. I post this under the tag #wip wednesday.

On Fridays, I write at least seven lines of my own stories, either poetry, essays, or fiction. I post this under the tag #seven line friday.

On Sundays, I post at least six lines of fanfic. I post this under the tag #six sentence sunday.

For more information about me, check out my About Me page. I don't answer personal questions unless I share an asklist, I don't take prompts unless I share a promptlist, and I don't keep anonymous asks on. I've also made two promptlists--one a writing challenge, the other a list of poetry prompts! Find my work archived and updated under hes5thlazarus on Archive of Our Own.

Below is a catalogue of my stories, broken down by fandom (Dragon Age, Harry Potter, Star Trek):

My Dragon Age Stories

There Is No Ithaca Three moments where Solas loses his home: Solas wrecks his revolution on the altar of Mythal. Solas returns from war to find Ghilan’nain incubating the Blight within their own home. Fen'Harel negotiates the end of the world with the Thaig of the Bastion of the Pure. Answers to various asks from brightoncemore's wonderful promptlist.

Ultramarine Sylaise attempts to trademark the color blue, initiating a civil war. Fen'Harel disapproves. Felassan, at this point, is just along for the ride. Highlights include: Andruil attempts to create biological weapons out of the conquered children of the stone and sell them to absolutely everyone, Mythal may or may not involve, Solas greatly disapproves, and everyone wants to kill Fen'Harel for disapproving. Also an explanation as to why Solas has to think before answering Sera on whether he has ever pissed magic by accident. Sorta a love story, sorta a comedy, sorta a story about political intrigue--but hey, Solas said Arlathan was even worse than Orlais! A big thank you to potatowitch and isomede for talking me through this and getting me to finish it--and for giving me the best ideas for it.

Overheard at the Hanged Man Thirty-one stories written in Nightmare-mode for Beyond the Veil's 2020 Artober Challenge, ranging through the entire series, from Arlathan before the Blight to the Chargers in Serault.

Alistair the Accidental Heretic Alistair gets bored during morning prayer and starts changing the words of the Chant as he sings. Mother Prudence and Knight-Commander Greagoir are less than pleased, and soon he finds himself tripping up over accidental heresy even within the kitchens of Kinloch Hold. It's not easy, being a half-elf templar with a conscience, because even having a sense of humor is heresy.

The Starkhaven Crier A portrait of two future apostates at ten-year-olds: Jowan and Surana are bored, get dragged to the Chantry for the good of their souls, and accidentally make the new girl from Starkhaven cry. Featuring Surana determined to be the one Dalish against letting the Maker come back, the self-hating mage in the Surana/Amell origin as the Starkhaven Crier, and the same Mother Prudence who sent Alistair to bed without supper. From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me.

Morrigan at the Crossroads Morrigan reaches her breaking point, confronted with the one person she cannot flee: her six-week-old son, who cannot be soothed back to sleep, struggling in the Crossroads. From a prompt musettta3 sent me.

Shartan's Riddle Surana talks Mahariel through writing Leliana, after Leliana leaves to work for the Divine. Shartan promised them a home, and Mahariel worries Leliana, devout as she is, cannot give it to her. From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me.

Winter in Amaranthine The Wardens' companions decide to leave, and Warden-Commander Arana Mahariel cannot find a reason good enough to tell them no. Meanwhile, letters between the Warden and Leliana get lost in translation, and Arana makes it worse. From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me.

Palimpsest Velanna and Sigrun fight some darkspawn, talk around the past, and write some letters. Written as a gift for hellbell, for the Sapphic Solstice 2021 Gift Exchange.

Phosphorescence A Despair demon in the Foundry district is clogging up the whole city with a miasma of misery. Justice runs into an old friend of his, during Anders' first few weeks in Kirkwall, and the three set to work. Heavy-handed allegory abounds, but, Justine opines, that’s the Dreamers’ fault. From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me.

Labyrinth "Anders made no attempt at escape during the years they were together." This story is meant to explore everything absolutely horrible about that statement. If the core part of Anders' identity is his refusal to submit to imprisonment, then perhaps listening to Karl was a violation of his sense of self. Things get better, and then things get worse.

Kirkwall Thunderstorm Family squabbling as the storm sets in, Hawke flees to face the thunderstorm head on, and laughs, because what's more to life than this, chasing a storm all the way down to the harbor? From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me. One of my favorite things I've written in 2020.

Debutante Leandra manages Hawke's debut ball, and surprises herself by having a lot of fun. From an OC ask I decided to turn into a prompt.

Dregs Anders baits Varric, or Varric baits Anders, both drunk at the Hanged Man. There's no resolution to an argument when they're both just angry, thinking about dead mages. From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me. One of my favorite things I've written in 2020.

The Scent of Pomegranates Merrill brings a pomegranate to the Hanged Man, to try and capture some of the way her clan celebrated the new year. Fenris is oddly moved. Written for the DA Den's 2020 Holiday Gift Exchange.

Anders in Autumn Anders and Fenris, over the course of one gorgeous autumn in Kirkwall, find common ground, a common goal, and even tenderness, as the city grows cool and vibrant in the changing of the year. Justice returns to the streets of Kirkwall, one way or another, and it is as transformative and loving as justice truly is. An answer to an Artober challenge from cozy-autumn-prompts

Warp & Weft Anders wakes Fenris up in the middle of the night talking, and then not wanting to talk, about weaving. What they remember and what they have forgot climb into the bed with them. A gift for potatowitch.

Landlocked Merrill goes looking for Isabela after a night of drinking at the Hanged Man, and finds her considering the sun rising over the horizon at the docks. They're landlocked and the salt's drained them both dry, but maybe it's not all been a waste. They're shipless, not shipwrecked. Part of a personal challenge to write more femslash, after realizing how little there is in Dragon Age fandom.

Love and Red Ink Varric tries his hand at a more literary Bildungsroman about his youth as a Kirkwall bohemian. Bianca tears it apart, editing for his own good. Sometimes love is in the margins, your almost ex-girlfriend telling you--I wasn't that pretty, when I was that young.

The Most Boring Sex Party in All Orlais Josephine and Leliana both admit the night they met ended with someone's smallclothes pinned to the Chanter's Board--but what happened right before? Josephine says, “I have played the Game before, and understand its cutthroat stakes. But I must admit, I never thought I would witness the opening salvo of a coup at the most boring sex party of all Orlais.”

Catabasis Kirkwall's in ashes and Hawke and their friends are on the run. Varric might have ended the story at the docks, but the conflict continues. The question persists: should they separate? And what brought them together in the first place? From a series of prompts ellie-effie and musetta3 sent me.

The Domestics Alistair runs into an older elven woman on the battlements, watching the children play in the Skyhold courtyard below. They get to talking: isn't it nice that the mages get to keep their children now? Then, in the course of the conversation, Alistair figures it out. Alistair says, “I always wondered. What my life would’ve been like, if she could’ve kept me. I always kinda knew she didn’t have a choice. King’s bastards are the king’s, not whoever carried them. If she were a servant and if I’d end up in the kitchens or, better yet, the dairy. I really like cheese. But if she were a mage, I guess we never had any of that. Unless she ran away.”

The Bane of Red Crossing In the astrarium cave in the Storm Coast with Inquisitor Lavellan, Cole, and Solas, Sera opens a chest and finds a beautiful bow, named the Bane of Red Crossing. But what is the Bane of Red Crossing? According to the codex: "Ser Yves de Chevac used this bow in the Exalted March against the Dales – specifically, in the liberation of Val Royeaux, where the chevalier famously struck down the elven forces' commander with a shot to the throat at two hundred feet." Lavellan is not pleased, but does not know how to communicate effectively with Sera. Cole and Solas make it worse. Sometimes there is no adequate resolution, when you are faced with the instrument of your great-grandparents' destruction. Sometimes there is nothing that disinterested compassion can say.

To the Victor the Spoils In the Skyhold gardens, in Adamant's wake, Solas meets Loghain. A character study of two trickster-kings, speaking a little too honestly. As Loghain himself says, "The past is always with us. It’s in our bones and our blood and we wear it on our skin. You can think otherwise, but you’ll never get far without it."

Dead Man Hiking Solas broods over what has been lost. Dorian interrupts, and Solas dangles hidden knowledge in front of him like a carrot. They both take the bait, because, as irritable and sad Solas can get, "he wants to give wisdom, not orders," and Dorian loves to learn. Written for Beyond the Veil's 2020 Satinalia Gift Exchange.

So Much Lore! So Much Information! Dorian has a wonderful conversation with the Skyhold Librarian about improvements to the library's filing system and the innovations coming out of Minrathous when Vivienne comes by and points out he's just talking to himself. He's been waxing rhapsodic about the Tevinter equivalent of the Dewey decimal system to a spirit--or maybe a demon. So clearly they must investigate.

Dirthara Ma! May You Learn After the Exalted Council, Solas stops for a drink and a sulk in a quiet tavern in Ostwick. He is convinced no one will ever recognize him with a full head of hair and a beard. Then the Inquisitor walks in. The first in a canon-compliant post-Trespasser Solavellan series.

White Nights A year after Trespasser, Lavellan takes a new lover to a quiet inn in Val Royeaux. She steps out to the balcony for a quick smoke under the stars, looks over to the balcony adjacent to hers--and who is there but the Dread Wolf himself, slightly disguised, with a glass of wine? Despite themselves they talk, and do not stop talking. “Entertain me,” Solas says. “What ending will Master Tethras write for us? Because I do not know how to leave this gracefully. Though I suppose any ending is better than the last one, when I left with your arm.” The second and most comprehensive in a canon-compliant post-Trespasser Solavellan series. From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me. One of my favorite things I've written in 2020.

Ligaments Briala has loaded her dice when playing the Game. Gaspard throws her in prison, but her message goes out to both the Dread Wolf, keen to better his reputation for catastrophe amongst the elves of Orlais, and the Dalish Inquisitor, who is still reeling from the loss of her arm. “We do not necessarily know he is the enemy,” Leliana says. “And it is exciting, no? To have that rush of danger and destruction between every kiss.” The third in a canon-compliant post-Trespasser Solavellan series. From the six Florence & the Machine prompts that ellie-effie sent me. One of my favorite things I've written in 2020.

Out From Under the Dread Wolf's Eye Briala and Merrill try and steal an eluvian out from under the Dread Wolf's eye. It doesn't quite work, but that doesn't mean the day's a failure, not when there's dinner to be had and a connection to explore. Written as a gift for hellbell, for a prompt they gave for the Sapphic Solstice 2021 Gift Exchange, but not submitted to the collection.

The Domesticities Solas adjust to a new, gentle love that has gripped his heart and will not let him go: a Lavellan who heralds a world he did dream of, and learns how to survive grief and his own betrayal, learns how to surrender the high moral ground and focus on the domesticities. A series of Solas-POV ficlets from my story, Fen'Harel's Teeth, where Lavellan is a mother and leader in her own right, and barely keeping her head above the water of her own deep grief. Not in chronological order!

He Who Hunts Alone Solas will restore the Elvhen People as he knew them, even if this world must die. It is his only purpose as he understands it. But a magical accident leaves him in another world, where a version of himself has made a very different choice. Solas is forced to reckon with a desire he has never let himself explore. Inquisitor Tara Trevelyan, both his friend and adversary, is dragged with him, as they move from their world, to a world where Solas seems to have won it all, to another that seems both their worst nightmare. Inquisitor Tara Trevelyan: the rebel apostate mage, romanced Josephine Inquisitor Imladris Lavellan: the Dalish First, romanced Solas, featured in Fen'Harel's Teeth Inquisitor Brigid Trevelyan: the faithful Andrastian prophet, rogue and noble, Tara's sister, romanced Blackwall and then Cullen Written in tandem with my partner, batsy22-me, and likewise abandoned when we got bored of it.

Fen'Harel's Teeth First Lavellan, Imladris Ashallin, thought that her audience with the Divine against templars' harassment of Dalish mages would be a token protest, and that her people would use it to draw the city elves closer to the Vir Tanadahl. She didn't think her Keeper's calculations would catapult her to the top of the Chantry's leadership, manipulating the powers of Thedas to leave her people be. Meanwhile, Briala foments revolution in Halamshiral, using the eluvian network to sabotage the armies of Orlais. A new movement erupts in the Dales, and elves across Thedas look at this so-called "Herald of Andraste" and see Mythal's vallaslin. Fiona breaks the chains of mages across Thedas, and Fenris starts whispers of a new age in Tevinter--one where the slaves throw down their masters. A new age is coming, and all of Thedas look to Lavellan to usher it in. My baby, my never-ending story, my current work-in-progress.

My Harry Potter Stories

Harry Potter Daydreams Archiving my old Harry Potter headcanons from Tumblr onto AO3. These are not necessarily nice to the characters from canon, and focus what I find interesting--their flaws, and how that could create conflict in their lives.

General Snape Headcanons Archiving my old Harry Potter headcanons from Tumblr onto AO3.

Augury Gang Eileen's mother curses her, and she dies not too long after giving birth to Severus. Tobias, a millworker and a proud union man, does his best.

Snape in the City Instead of dying, Snape moves to New York. A Severus Snape/Narcissa Malfoy and Severus Snape/Regulus Black story.

An Incident at the Mill the millrat AU A series of vignettes on what could’ve happened if Tobias Snape had been badly injured in an accident at the mill, forcing Severus to drop out of Hogwarts before the Prank. Predominantly Lilycentric. Snily shippers, rejoice: most of the vignettes are from Lily’s point of view, featuring her as flawed, passionate, bullheaded, comfortable in her sexuality, quick to curse and quicker to laugh at herself–and with a complicated relationship to alcohol and the Wizarding World. A big thank you to eleniaz and deathdaydungeon for sparking the initial headcanons that became this series.

Saplings 1980 Albus asks Minerva to tend to the "tender new sapling" of a Potions Master. Minerva looks at the manic-triggered recovered Death Eater and thinks they're doomed for failure. Snape thinks she's right. A couple of friendship & mentorship & not-quite hurt/comfort ficlets, where Severus oozes despair and McGonagall fails, completely, utterly, to be of service. There are two pieces of fanart floating around Snapedom, one of Snape oozing, the other a comic eleniaz did years ago. Unfortunately I've lost the links.

Harry Potter and the Summer of the Stepfather In an alternate world where Neville Longbottom is the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter's parents divorce relatively amicably. Eventually, Lily starts dating again, and Harry finds himself actually enjoying the summer Snape stays over.

Last Round at the Hog's Head Thirty-one ficlets written for the 2020 Snapetober challenge.

Your Body's a Revolution Eight stories written for the 2020 Trans Snape Week challenge.

July 1977 Snape stews in teenage melodrama, eating lunch at a cheap fish-and-chips shop in Upper Cokeworth, beset by memories of a wasted ex-girlfriend, who couldn't be Lily Evans--what Bertha Jorkins saw behind the greenhouses, and what came after. Revised from an earlier account, cross-posted from fanfiction.net.

Maleficari's Mutinous Munitions Sprout grew the wrong kind of mandrakes--mandragora, rather than English mandrakes, and no one knew that there actually was an infinitesimal difference--so Severus needs to save the day before Lockhart can. A little of Slytherin cunning, a willingness to embezzle, and a sense of spite wins the day. Prompted by masaotheheckindog.

Honeydukes Horror Remus Lupin genially humiliates Severus Snape as he attempts to order chocolates. Some schoolboy grudges never get better, and nothing Severus can say will let him seem the better man. Prompted by snapescapades.

Weavers Bored before the start of sixth year, Harry goes through Petunia's old family photo albums. He demands some answers, and Dumbledore sends Snape. "He finds a photo of her laughing with a boy who is not his father, who’s got his long black hair and a hand thrown up, too, covering his face. She’s about his age in this photo, or a bit older. Carefully he slides it out of the plastic. There’s writing on the back: 'Weavers, Sev & Lily, 1976. to Baba O’Riley and the rest of our lives!!' The writing is familiar, spidery, almost indecipherable, and he squints because it reminds him of someone, it’s strangely familiar, and then he drops the photo in shock. Because he knows: that’s Severus Snape."

They Call This Closure? Severus comes to consciousness into a dream of Potter reenacting his worst memory-and then Lily Evans comes tearing in at age sixteen, rather than as the more mature adult his subconscious normally designs her. They call this closure? Officially dead, officially incomplete: and I call this closure?

Harry Potter and the Cursed Mark Triple-cross! Mitarashi Anko of the Village Hidden in the Leaves joins Severus Snape as one of Dumbledore's agents, seeking to train the Boy-Who-Lived to understand his mental connection to Lord Voldemort. Snape thinks that they really didn't need to hire a goddamn technicolor ninja to fill the DADA position, but at least it's not one of Fudge's underlings taking charge--wait, he has to put up with her anyway? More seriously, Anko and Severus discover a connection between their cursed marks and the Potter boy's scar, Dumbledore expedites the plot, and Voldemort weaves an insidious plot, inspired by Lord Orochimaru, to take over the Resistance--from the inside. Incomplete and officially dead.

My Star Trek Stories

Raktajino Kira Nerys stews over the history of Terok Nor and the Occupation over a cup of raktajino, soon after she meets Marritza, and Garak just does not know when to leave a bleeding wound alone. Written as a gift for batsy22-me.

Open Mic at Quark's Thirty-one stories written for Trektober 2020, ranging from TOS, the movies, to Lower Decks and Discovery. Includes Keiko joining the Maquis, Spock introducing Amanda to Saavik, Mariner and crew getting lost on a road trip, and more!

Splash Quark takes a dip in a hot spring. Odo follows. It is not, Odo insists, sexy. Regardless, Quark is going to enjoy tormenting him with mutual nudity, since he was the one who interrupted his bath, after all. Prompted by saathiray.

Lore and the Prophets Lore thinks he can sneak off Deep Space Nine and get through the wormhole without anyone noticing. The Prophets have other ideas. Written for the Star Trek 2020 Gift Exchange, for electricsunrise.

Jambalaya Before Worf's wedding plans take over the station, Benjamin Sisko tries to find out what happened during the Founders' occupation of Deep Space Nine, and why Odo won't look him in the eye. Of course he investigates in the guise of inviting everyone to dinner.

Tear of the Prophets Was prompted by saathiray to write about Kira Nerys repatriating an artifact sacred to Bajor from Cardassia, and this is what we got! The Shakaar cell leads a procession after Cardassia returns the Orb of Contemplation to Bajor, to collective joy. Kai Opaka says, "So I say to you my people, the survivors of atrocity and keepers of the wormhole—the Prophets cried for you millennia before you were made. They sent their Tears from their temple as a safeguard as to what was to come. And now that it is safe, now that we have won—their Tears are for all." Featuring Latha having an Orb experience, explaining why he became a vedek.

Jane Austen Book Club Dukat reads Pride and Prejudice to help him understand human relations (and fuck the Sisko). He thinks he’s being Darcy but really, he’s just Mr. Collins…and evil. Garak lends him a copy of Jane Austen and a horrific cravat, and really, it's all downhill from there.

Miscellaneous Stories

Fireworks, a feminist deconstruction of Naruto Sarada takes one look at the Uchiha legacy and decides she wants no part of it. Sakura, who has built herself a life independent of the husband who abandoned them, tries to reckon with how her daughter cannot actually decide the path her life takes. And Hanabi is happy to offer advice and consolation, as Sakura tries to talk her best friends into letting Sarada be a civilian. A feminist deconstruction of Naruto, where everyone is taken seriously and treated with the same love Sakura offers to all her friends. No character-bashing, just contemplating what could have happened if, when Sasuke left Sakura and their baby the second time, Sakura decided to file for divorce rather than wait for him to come back. Of course they still love each other. Of course it's not simple.

Same Time Next Week?, a Babylon 5 fanfic Vir and Lennier meet for their usual drink. A pre-relationship, lightest of touches, beginning of it all story.

Sunrise, Parabellum, a Disco Elysium fanfic Early Wednesday morning, before Harry's woken up and before they've closed the water lock and headed to the fishing village, Kim Kitsuragi gets up and wants a cigarette. He has a cup of coffee instead and contemplates his partner's newfound sobriety. Sunrise, parabellum: he gets up and prepares for war.

Dragon Eyes, an Avatar: the Last Airbender fanfic On a diplomatic mission to the Fire Nation, Katara leaves the children with Aang to have tea with Zuko and Mai. But the two of them have something they want to talk about. They've lived enough of fathers neglecting one child for the other, and they have seen enough. Katara wishes they had propositioned her, rather than bring this up.

Cages, an Avatar: the Last Airbender fanfic Mai visits Azula. It is not easy.

[queerchoicesblog]

La Vie Bohème

Hiya, folks! So, as previously announced, the wlw writing project continues after a break with a miniseries set back in the City of Lights - & Love - at the time of the Belle Epoque, at the turn of the century.

The story of Élodie and Léa continues: what’s next?

Next chapter out on Monday, I think!

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions to homophobia, reference to sexual activity (if you are a minor or it bothers you in any way, you have been warned)

Tagging: @scottishqueer​

Previous chapters: Paris, Paris ; One Night At The Moulin Rouge , The Handkerchief, The Cage of Fools

Hope you enjoy it: if you do, please consider spreading the word!

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The following day I wake up late, around lunchtime. My roommates are all out: Marie left me a note saying she's out for a walk with Alain. Poor Marie, what a concerned look she gave me last night when she saw me sneaking inside our room without my coat! I had to craft a wild story to justify my attire and being so late. I can only hope she believed me...at least, she didn't ask too many questions. I head to the kitchen and warm up the stew leftover my friend saved for me. The events of the night are blurred, they waltz together in a haze: the Moulin Rouge, the Cage of Fools and the jigs I danced with Élodie, her perfume, her laughter, the violet a gallant admirer sent me, then the gendarmes, the clash of their batons, our mad run. The sad look on Élodie's face, the little kiss she pressed on my knuckles parting.

I wash myself and head out for a walk too, wrapping myself in the only other coat I have, much lighter than the lost one. My neighbourhood is certainly not renewed for attractions but it's Sunday and everyone is out to enjoy their day off. Some kids almost collide with me while chasing each other while an old lady nearby invites every passerby to try her apple tart, cheap and decadent, she repeats. Last night was the wildest night I've ever had in my whole life. After the initial embarrassment, I felt incredidibly...happy. I felt like floating on air when Élodie spun me in her arms or when we had a toast at our new friendship. Why did it end so soon? Who called the gendarmes and why they wanted to arrest those people who were just having fun? I don't get it...people crossdress every day now on the stages of cabaret theatres and no one ever complains. Their acts receive thunderous applauses and some artists have adoring fans every night. Why is it so different to call for a mass arrest? The men and women at the Cage of Fools were just doing what popular crossdress artists do: singing, dancing, making sure everybody was merry and bright. Was it because of the two men kissing a few tables away from where we sat? Nobody cared there, I didn't care, honestly. But now that I think of it, that might be the cause. Crossdressing performers never kiss each other on stage. I walk up to a hill into a second hand marketplace, hoping to find a replacement for my old coat I can afford. Could it be that my friend Élodie is a...how do they call them? A sapphic? I heard the word for the first time when I worked as a maid at the uncle Yves' client house. Madame pronounced it with ill grace, speaking of one of their acquaintances while I served breakfast. When I went back to the kitchen, I asked the cook the meaning of the unknown word, that I assumed a fancy insult: my masters wanted to play the role of the rich and the rich don't share the same language with us commoners. They invent new words, more fitted to their uptown world, not tainted with the smell of the street. The lady got all red and threw me a cloth, scolding me for eavesdropping a conversation and warning me to mind my own business. Needless to say my curiosity ran wild and I finally got an answer a few days later when I asked to the maid of a visiting guest. Could it be? The following week is pretty eventful: an important commission and Marie receiving a letter from home, urging her to go back to Aergenteuil to help assisting a sick relative. They would have never asked, knowing all the trouble that would cause her, if they could have done otherwise, her parents wrote. Marie is very close to that aunt and she sobbed in my arms at the thought of losing her and the job all at once. It took time to me and our roommates to comfort her. I told her that she didn't have to worry about the job: we will talk to the girls tomorrow and we will cover for her during her absence. If most agree to help, it will only mean a few extra hours each. Luckily, Marie is well loved at work so things run relatively smoothly, despite the boss' evident contempt. She profuses in an endless series of thank you and praises when I walk her to the carriage station at dawn before heading straight to work. We hug and I give her a tiny slice of that cheap and decadent apple tart the old lady sells at the crossroad. A little treat for the journey home, the only one I can afford. "You're a true friend, Léa. I will never forget this" she says, eyes veiled with tears before taking her seat on board. As the carriage disappears from view, I realise it's the first time we are separated from each other since we first met. Predictably, I end up missing her: we've been around each other for so long that now not walking back home with her, working side by side and sharing lunch on the staircase makes me feel a bit empty, as if a part was missing. Marcel and Alain are busy with work too as festivities approach fast and I have my fair share of Marie's work to worry about. However, from time to time, when I'm not so tired I only want to touch the bed, I pay a visit to the Moulin Rouge. The first time Élodie spots me, she runs straight into my arms, hugging me tightly: she must have thought she would never see me again after our misadventure with the gendarmes. She lets me assist to the acts backstage and I get to befriend other dancers, now used to see me around. I even fix their costumes if they get damaged during the performance. I do it gladly, even if it adds up to my daily amount of work. I usually gets cheek kisses or champagne as payment but sometimes, despite my deflections, they drop some coins into my hand, arguing that the Moulin Rouge tailor is half as good as me. When it happens, instead of saving them, I go buy a dinner at a bistro nearby with Élodie. I'm always starving but she never makes jokes of me for that. I tell her about Marie and the extra hours and, in return, she pretends not to be so hungry and offers me her slices of bread or some mashed potatoes "she won't eat anyway". We talk for hours, until I can keep my eyelids open. We start seeing each other more often. I must admit it's relatively easier now that I don't have to worry about bothering Marie and my friends are busy. Only my roommates look at me differently: I'm positive they suspect I have a secret lover. Now my day off is split between a little work at home in the morning and Élodie. We stroll down the Tuileries Gardens, arm in arm to protect each other against the cold. Élodie loves this place: she doesn't care it's overly popular, to her it's a testament to the the beautiful things people can create, an urban Eden. Who am I to contradict her? The Palace in the distance, the trees, the quiet murmur of the Seine nearby...it's rather gorgeous. One day we bump into a couple of her friends of the Cage of Fools. I could barely recognise gracious Pierrette in her male clothes. She goes by Pierre during the day. "Amélie" the other woman says, offering a hand to shake and I recognise one of Élodie's friends who were playing cards. "We've already met but I don't think I properly introduced myself". I assure her that I remember her. Then, lowering my voice as if I don't know if I can speak freely about it, I ask them about the fate of the Cage. Pierre/Pierrette frowns, she's one of the owners and had a hard time being released by the gendarmes after the arrest. The bar and ballroom is still closed, the authorities denies a reopening. They're planning a night incursion to retrieve all the lost goods, if there's any left. But so far it's hard to tell what will be of the Cage. Then, noticing my sullen expression, she adds: "It will open up again, darling. It's Paris, Pigalle: places like this always rise from their own ashes. We just don't know when and how" We all share a weak smile. The silence is broken by Élodie. "I was thinking of throwing a little party at my place to cheer up the mood" "At your place? But how?" Amélie inquiries, skeptic but intrigued. "A roof party, so there will be space for anyone. We can lit some fires to keep warm. You're all invited and I will ask some girls at the Moulin. A little feast to forget about our sorrows" True to her word, the next week, when I receive a letter from Marie informing me of her upcoming return, she proudly announces me that the party is happening: it's on Saturday night after the act at the Moulin. "Will you be there?" she asks, taking my hand into hers. The sudden gesture draws a smile on my face. We now seat together in bars and bistros very different from the Cage of Fools and I've come to miss casual touches like this. We've been very careful since that raid, especially Élodie. "Of course, I will" I nod over a steamy bowl of soup. She claps her hands excitedly, flashing me a bright smile before scribbling down an address on a scrap of paper she retrieved God knows where. Then she hands it to me. "Don't be late, I'll be waiting for you" Her words colour my cheeks rosy, the warmth in her voice unmistakable. Unsurprisingly, she lives in Monmarte, the artist neighbourhood. I arrive early, afraid to be late. I ate my dinner with great haste once back from work and spent a whole hour getting ready, a detail that -I do not doubt it- cemented my roommates' theory of the secret affair. I washed myself, did my hair up just like Marie taught me, and put on my best dress, which is nothing fancy but I am quite fond of the colour and its lacy sleeves. Once I put kohl on my eyes and some rouge on my lips, I head off into the night. When I finally arrive, I spot some familiar faces in front of the building: Léa's friends. I wave at them and they greet me with affability as if we've known each other for a while. "Good evening, Léa. You're radiant tonight" Pierrette says, kissing both my cheeks. I'm glad to see her back in her female clothes, she even placed a flower in her hair for the occasion. "Élodie hasn't arrived yet, she and the girls must be on their way" Amélie informs me, rubbing her hands. I say that it's fine especially if you're in good company. We chat, hugging ourselves and I discover that they all works as secretaries, bar Pierrette who is "an unsuspecting accountant by day, the best bartender in town by night". Just then, a cheerful choir of voices resounds in the street, approaching. We turn and it's the dancers of the Moulin Rouge. They cheer and wave at us, swaying bottles of wine and champagne raided from the theatre. After a quick round of kisses and loud greetings, we all run up the stairs before catching a cold. Élodie's apartment is messy and rather small for the number of guests attending the party so we quickly take the stairs and head to the roof. The sight is gorgeous: as the others light a couple of fires and one of the dancers harmonises an accordion, I take a moment to admire it. From the top of the hill, Paris lays beneath us like an ocean of light and chimney smoke. An intoxicating combination of misery and beauty I have never seen before. Someone taps my shoulder and I turn to see Carmine, one of Élodie's colleagues, handing me a glass of wine. It's stronger than I expect but I keep sipping it as we chat, grateful to have something to kindle my bones in the cold. A lively tune starts playing and we all share a toast to our host, who performs an exaggerated reverie in full response. The atmosphere is bubbly: some dance, others chat and crack jokes with each other...everyone is in good spirits. I wonder if this is the life my new friend is used to, so careless and free. So different from the one I know. What does she see in me? My ordinary seamstress routine, my life....is a stale dry biscuit in comparison to what she does. I'm saved by the male dance, Laurent, who asks me to dance. I accept: after all, I am here to enjoy myself and he will lead, I only have to follow his moves. As we sway I catch Élodie looking in my direction while chatting with the girls and drinking wine. I have no recollection of how much time we spent there, I remember walking down the stairs arm in arm with Amélie. As some guests take their leave, we gather in the living room and the the tiny kitchen downstairs to keep warm. Laurent produces himself in an impression of Monsieur Ziegler that elicits a general round of laughters. Pierrette and one of the girls sing one last song, a popular duet for the "last ones standing" then say goodbye. When the last guest walks out of the door, Élodie turns towards me. "Stay and help me sinking that?" she asks, nodding at a half empty bottle of champagne. Before I can answer, she's already looking for two glasses. She returns with just one. "You have the glass, I take the bottle" she announces. I laugh at the tipsy note in her voice as she pours liquid ambrosia in my glass. "What?" she chuckles. "Just saying that maybe you should take a seat, mademoiselle" I tease her, guiding her to the sofa. She rolls her eyes and obliges...then at last minute, she pulls me down too. Some champagne sloshes over the rim of my glass but I find a seat beside her. We both giggle. "To the best party host in Paris" I raise my glass. She smiles and mirrors my gesture. "To the most gracious guest, the pearl of Roscoff" We cling our glasses and I blush a little, diverting my eyes. When I look back at here, her eyes rests dreamy on a painting laid nearby on the floor. One of her roommates is a painter, she explains absentmindedly, he finished it yesterday. I tell her she's a real bohemienne, living in the artist quarter with a painter.... "An actress and a music-hall trumpet player. And I'm a dancer myself!" she adds. Then she falls quiet. She smiles to herself, a rather melancholic smile, as if she's contemplating her whole life. "La vie bohème...that's the life I chose" she says after a while. "I've never thought I would achieve that though. I've never thought I would get this far" "How come?" I sit more comfortably and she takes a gulp of champagne before speaking again. She was born in Bordeaux, a place now filled with memories of a lonely grim childhood. Her mother was, is -since she's still alive as far as she knows- a prostitute, who spent more time walking the streets than cuddling her little girl. Sometimes she received clients at home and Élodie ran hiding in the filthy toilet in the garden until they were gone. She never knew who her father was but she likes to think it was a tormented poet or a travelling artist...more likely and ironically, he could have been a gendarme off duty or the spoilt heir of a local noble with a taste for the sordid cheap pleasures the streets of the suburbs offer after dark. Her mother wasn't kind to her -one day when she had a bit too much, she admitted she never wanted a child- but provided for her. She was the one teaching her the can-can. "Decades ago only prostitutes danced like this, now it's different...but I guess it's part of the profession lore, so to speak" she laughs sombrely. "I mean, some girls at the Moulin still do that, dancing and selling their graces to paying admirers. I suppose it's easy to cross the line if you always want more and more and adulation is a weird poison. I don't judge them, if no one is forcing them to do so, they can do what they want...." She turns towards me, placing her hand over mine. I give it a squeeze. "I don't do that, Léa. I don't do that...I saw what that life did to my mother, what it turned her into and when one morning I packed my things and left, I swore to myself to ever do that, even if money was running low, if I could avoid it. I was barely sixteen when I arrived here, alone, in Paris. I was lucky enough to find kind people who didn't take advantage of me...and I...and I started to dance. Dancing gave me freedom" I don't know what made her so suddenly nostalgic, maybe it's the alcohol we had tonight. But her story makes me appreciate her even more: the world has been unkind to her at first, filling her childhood with hardships, but she fought back. She danced away from her misery with ineffable grace and dignity like a brave butterfly. "And now look at you: you're Lila, star of la quadrille" I flash her a bright smile. "I'm proud of you" She laughs softly. "Are you?" "Yes, of course!" I sit a bit straighter, as if it could give my word more authority. "You've faced adversities and you went so far. Only the most talented dancers are allowed to perform in la quadrille!" "You read it somewhere?" "Everybody knows that!" I exclaim, amused and surprised by her skepticism. Then, to prove my point, I hand her my glass and stand. I find a spot clear enough and declare astonished: "Like, I could never dance like you do every night!" And I start mimic the can-can routine at my best, that I'm pretty sure turns out to be a grotesque parody of the real dance. I do it to amuse her and I smile when I finally hear her laughing. She places the bottle and the glass back on the floor and claps her hands, whistling like some spectators do at the Moulin. "What? No, don't clap, that was just silly!" I dismiss her, chuckling. "Well, whatever that was it was...something" she shrugs before bursting into another laughter, softer this time. "Whatever it was? Hear hear, a can-can dancer who doesn't even recognise it!" I make a scene to be offended and throw her a cushion from the nearest armchair. She ducks just in time to avoid it. We both giggle then she stroke her chin and regards me more carefully, pensive. "You have enthusiasm but you lack technique" "Told you I'm a bad dancer" I shrug. The memory of the two of us dancing at the Cage of Fools crosses my mind like a meteor and my heart starts racing again in my chest. "May I?" she says, standing. I nod even if I don't know what she means exactly. I get it when she saunters closer and positions herself behind me. When she gently places her hands on my hips, I inhale sharply. "First of all, you need to loosen up a bit. You're too wooden...sway your hips, like this" She hums the melody of Offenbach and guides my movements so that they match the rhythm. Again, it doesn't take long before I surrender and follow her lead. I don't know how long we sway like this, I must have closed my eyes. I only hear her voice behind me. "See, definite improvement! Now rise your skirt up a little" I freeze and turn towards her. My cheeks warm up and I try to blame the wine I had. "You don't want to trip over your skirt while dancing this, you can hurt yourself" she smiles encouragely. "That's why you do that then...I would have thought..." I shake my head but do as she says. I bend down and reach for the hem of my long skirt then I grab it as I saw the dancers do and lift it up till my the height of my knees. "Well, that's one reason" "I knew there were ulterior motives" I laugh. "The Moulin is not exactly a convent, right? You have to show your legs to the paying audience" she explains, mocking Monsieur Ziedler's voice. "They pay good money for them" "I see no paying audience though" I chuckle, turning my head slightly. "Because you have little imagination, mademoiselle Pearl" she whispers into my ear. Her breath hot on my skin sends a shiver down my spine and my heart pounding against my ribs. "Ready for the gallop? Three, two, one-" "Wait, wait-" Before I can process what's happening, under the lead of Élodie, we gallop from one side of the room to the other, moving laterally like crabs. I understand now: I saw this move over and over during the acts. Élodie gives directions and tells me to sway the skirt as we move. We soon end up laughing again when we almost trip over a tin box on the floor. When we stop, I feel dizzy and lean back against her for sustain. "Enough of that" she announces between laughters. "Now, knee up, girl!" I oblige and start jumping on my other feet. My balance becomes way more precarious. To think that dancers like Élodie make this look so easy...I let out a shriek as I fear of tripping. She encourages me to rise my knee even higher up to my chest. "But I will fall!" "I'll catch you" she reassures me, holding my hips a bit tighter. "C'mon, Léa, a bit higher...higher...yes, like this! You're a natural...and now kick!" I follow her instructions and my kick sends the books on top of a pile nearby flying across the room. It's a miracle they don't land over the painting. "Well, that's one hell of a kick, darling!" Élodie cheers as I lower my leg. Her laughter is contagious, I soon join and we don't stop until we're out of breath. Then I throw my head back and it finds her shoulder. We're still in the same position. I can feel her chest rising and falling against my back and her hands on me. I slowly turn my face towards her and find her looking back at me. We go quiet, trying to catch our breaths. Has she always been so beautiful? This whole time? I remember her cheerfulness, the way she let me spin into her arms and listened to me, resting her chin on her hand at the Cage. How she immediately grabbed my hand at first sign of danger, the tender light in her eyes when our faces were inches apart in that back alley. I decide to do what probably she failed to do that night: I follow my instinct, without thinking twice. I lean forward and brush my lips over hers. A tentative kiss, the lazy stroke of a shy lover. She mirrors my move and our hands move almost at unison: hers around my waist, resting on my stomach; mine over hers, stroking her wrists and intertwining our fingers. The kiss that follows makes me tingle in her arms as a fire erupts underneath my skin. She kisses me again on her own accord this time: it's surprisingly tender and it tastes of rouge, champagne and a refrained passion that finally finds its way. My knees go suddenly weak and I feel dizzy again, lost in our embrace, lost in her. She whispers my name like a prayer and I spin to wrap my arms around her neck and kiss her again. Her hands run up my back, holding me close as if I could run away any minute but there is nowhere else I would like to be now. I cannot refrain a moan when her lips find my jaw and brush over my neck: they burn on my skin and I wish she would never stop. Our kisses become more fervent and fierce as we backpedal down the corridor, bumping into the walls yet uncaring of anything else than the sudden fire consuming us. Élodie pulls me into what must be her room because she kicks the door shut and we soon tumble over a mattress. I fall on top of her, letting out a giggle. I go quiet when I meet her eyes. Illuminated only be the moon light she's the most enchanting vision I've ever seen. Her hair messy and sprawled beneath her, the ruby red of her lips so close I barely refrain myself from running a finger over them. She looks up at me, her eyes gleaming like stars. She reaches out and touches my cheek. She strokes it gently, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. She looks...in awe, vulnerable, adoring. For a moment I wonder if that's what lovers feel when they look at each other, when they lay in each other arms: a sweet ache of the heart, the purest amazement. "Kiss me again" I whisper, begging as a mendicant even if I don't need to. She finds my mouth again and again and runs her fingers through my hair. I place one hand on her chest and I feel her tremble imperceptibly at my touch. She suffocates a gasp against my lips while her heart hammers underneath my fingertips. I whisper her name this time and I kiss her jaw just like she did earlier, mirroring her moves. My hand runs down her side: I'm too lost in her to know what I'm doing. When I feel her knee beneath the fabric, I caress backwards up her tight, rising her skirt. That's when it happens. Élodie squirms and grabs my hand. She breaks the kiss and asks me to stop. Suddenly ashamed of my hunger, I retrieve my hand and prop myself up. My cheeks must turn crimson when I mutter my apologies. "I'm- I'm sorry, I thought you wanted it too" I let her space to move freely. Hiding her face from me, she sits on the edge of the bed for a moment, breathing hard. Then she stands. I sit and try to compose myself. "What I want....that's not the point" she sighs. "What do you mean?" I ask, confused. "Did I do something wrong?" She still gives me her shoulder. When she speaks again, she hangs her head, defeated. "This has nothing to do with you, Léa. God, no, if you only knew..." She sounds on the verge of tears but she must swallow them back because when she turns to face me her voice is less cracked even if she looks in pain. "Léa, I like you. Way more than I should and since the moment I bumped into you and you talked of fireworks. I gave you my handkerchief only as a mere expedient to see you again and you what you did? You turned it into a little work of art for me and you barely knew me back then. You have a kind word for everyone, you're helping your roommate in a moment of need without asking for anything in return. You're a good girl, one of the most honest girl I know and I..." She takes a deep breath before shaking her head forlornly. "You didn't even fully realise what happened at the Cage" I keep quiet for a moment then I speak, keeping my voice low and fiddling with the hem of a sleeve as a kid being scolded: "The gendarmes wanted to arrest everyone because there were...sapphics and men kissing other men. And people like Pierrette there" I say because I don't know if there are words for them that aren't insults. "...Yes" she confirms, meeting my gaze again. Seeing her now, one could doubt the very same girl was laughing and having a blast one hour ago or so. She looks so troubled, her eyes a mix of tenderness and sorrow. Guilt, maybe. "Léa, I...I would spend the night with you. You wouldn't even have to ask me. But-" she grimaces and my heart skips a beat, bracing for the worst. "What will happen when you hear that this is illegal, that people get sent to jail or the asylum -you remember? We joked about the asylum- for things like this? Because the authorities say it's like an...an illness, a taint-" "Why are you telling me all this?" I protest, standing too. "Because that's what happens out there! It took days to get Pierrette out of jail" she exclaims. "I should have never taken you there, I've been such a fool-" "You're a good girl too, Élodie" I interrupts her, reaching for her hand. "Don't tell me you doubt that" She looks down at our hands then meets my eyes, forlorn. "Am I though?" her sad smile pierces through my heart. "I almost got you arrested that night, little pearl. What would have your boss or your friends said if we hadn't been fast enough and those gendarmes had locked us in together with the others? You barely knew me back then, you would have hated me and I couldn't have blamed you" "But I don't hate you!" Now I am the one on the verge of crying. "We...we would have found a way out, I'm sure of that!" Élodie smiles at me, a weak pained smile. She retrieves her hand and caresses my cheek. "Maybe we would have, just like in one of those ballads chanteuses sing" she sighs. "But the truth is I care too much for you and so far I've only been a reckless fool, a selfish reckless fool. I could never forgive myself if you-" Words got stuck in her throat and she lowers her eyes for a moment. Then she presses a soft kiss on my forehead. "It's too late to walk the street alone at night. You can stay here tonight and...you can take the bed, I'll take the sofa" Having said that, she walks away. "Élodie, you don't have to...please, stay" I beg, hoping to stop her but when I turn she's already closing the door behind her. I consider the idea of running after her but I soon realise it would be absolutely pointless and I don’t want to make things worse. I stand for a moment, shaken. Then I lay down on the bed still warm of our embrace and look out into the night. The moon that made Élodie look even more beautiful and ethereal is still up there in the sky but now I'm alone. Silent tears rim my cheeks. I lay awake for hours, unable to sleep. For some reason I know that Élodie is doing the same.