#a city led astray

[maureen-corpse]

Passed my random bullshit detector test today when I saw a claim that people were “seceding” from a city to form their own and I said, “Huh, that sounds fake” and looked for more information. They were, in fact, incorporating unincorporated areas near the existing city. This could possibly cause economic harm to the existing city, but that’s not secession. It’s incorporation.

#i don’t need to learn every detail about the incorporation of this city so i won’t #but suffice it to say it’s not a secession. unincorporated places can incorporate. it happens #anyway it’s important to check facts glad to see i’m not being led astray all the time

[a-dotrivenitupontop]

just learnt sodom and gomorrah were cities and not biblical gay lovers. what the fuck.

#i thought it was like a sappho of lesbos situation were this dude was such a sodomite we named sodomy after him #and gomorrah was like. his gay lover. who was led astray by sin or whatever #i was really out here shipping cities 😭

[amournoir]

Hi can u do a fic where the reader and Klaus are in a relationship and the mikaelson's hate her .

Thanks

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐭 ┄ 𝐢

pairing: niklaus mikaelson x f!reader

count: 1.4k

warning: angst

author’s note: thanks for the request hun! 💋 p.s, here's part 2

The streets of New Orleans pulsed with life, and Y/N, Klaus Mikaelson's spirited and vivacious girlfriend, seemed to embody the very essence of the city's energy. She reveled in the thrill of the night, seeking joy and adventure wherever she went. But little did she know that her vibrant spirit was causing a storm within the Mikaelson family. 

Rebekah and Elijah, Klaus's siblings, observed with disapproval as Y/N led Klaus into the wild festivities of the French Quarter. They detested her carefree nature, seeing her as a disruption to the carefully constructed order of their lives. In their eyes, Y/N was a distraction, a youthful folly that would only lead Klaus astray. The siblings had made their opinions known countless times, urging Klaus to end the relationship. They saw her as a threat to their family's stability and tried to set him up with a "more suitable" woman— a 30-year-old socialite whose poise and maturity contrasted sharply with Y/N's exuberance. 

One evening, as the Mikaelson family gathered for a somber dinner, tensions reached their breaking point. Rebekah and Elijah, fueled by their desire to protect their brother, confronted Y/N, leveling accusations of infidelity.

“You're nothing but trouble,” Rebekah hissed, her eyes flashing with disdain. “You're not right for Nik.”

Y/N's face paled, her heart pounding in her chest. “What are you talking about? I love Klaus with all my heart,” she protested, her voice trembling.

Elijah shook his head, his tone cutting like a blade. “You're young, reckless, and unreliable,” he stated coldly. “You're only going to hurt him.”

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she struggled to find the right words to defend herself. She had always tried to be honest with Klaus, to give him everything he deserved, but now she felt like she was being torn apart by the very people she had hoped to call family.

“I love him,” she repeated, her voice breaking. “I would never hurt him, and I would never cheat on him.”

But her words fell on deaf ears, and the Mikaelson siblings remained adamant in their disapproval. Klaus, torn between his love for Y/N and his loyalty to his family, was caught in the crossfire of their bitter dispute. For days, the rift between Y/N and the Mikaelson siblings grew wider. Each encounter was fraught with tension, with accusations and misunderstandings that only deepened the wounds. Y/N felt isolated and alone, her heart heavy with the weight of their judgments.

One night, as the moon hung low in the sky, Klaus found Y/N sitting alone by the fireplace, tears silently streaming down her cheeks. He approached her, his heart aching at the sight of her pain.

“Love talk to me,” he pleaded, his voice soft with concern.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with sorrow. “Your family hates me,” she whispered. “They think I'm not good enough for you.”

Klaus wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “I don't care what they think,” he said firmly. “I love you and I won't let them come between us.”

But as the days turned into weeks, the constant pressure from his family weighed heavily on Klaus's mind. Doubts began to seep into his heart, and he found himself torn between his love for Y/N and the desire to mend the fractures in his family. In the depths of his turmoil, Klaus faced an impossible choice— to stand by the woman he loved or to appease his family by letting her go. His heart and mind waged war within him, leaving him in a state of inner turmoil that threatened to consume him.

As the darkness of uncertainty loomed over their once blissful relationship, Y/N and Klaus were left to navigate the shadows of doubt and find a way back to each other. The storm of angst and heartache showed no signs of abating, leaving them with the ultimate question…could love conquer all or would the family's disapproval be too much to bear? 

A few months had passed without another confrontation from his siblings but that silence period was over today. The Mikaelson mansion stood in silence, its opulent halls shrouded in a heavy tension that seemed to seep into the very air. Y/N, the vibrant and spirited love of Klaus Mikaelson's life, felt the weight of disapproval from his siblings bearing down on her like a storm cloud. At 23, her heart beat fiercely with a passion for life, but to Elijah and Rebekah, she was nothing more than a youthful whirlwind that threatened the delicate balance they had carefully crafted. 

It was a chilly evening, and as Y/N wandered through the dimly lit corridors, her footsteps echoing emptily, she couldn't shake the sense of unease that seemed to linger around her. The disapproving glances, the hushed conversations that ceased when she entered a room— all of it gnawed at her soul. It had been months since she had embarked on a romantic journey with Klaus, a love that burned with an intensity she had never known before. But even that powerful connection couldn't shield her from the critical eyes of his siblings.

Rebekah's icy words had sliced through the air like a blade. “You're just a child, Y/N,” she had said with a condescending tilt of her head. “My brother deserves someone who understands the dangers of our world.”

And Elijah, the embodiment of elegance and poise, had looked at her with a mixture of pity and dismissal. “Klaus is not one to be taken lightly,” he had warned. “You need to be more mature, more level headed.”

Each word had etched itself into Y/N's heart, a constant reminder of her perceived inadequacy in the eyes of those she so desperately wanted to accept her. As she entered the living room, she found Klaus standing by the grand window, nursing a tumbler of bourbon in his hand. His gaze was distant, his features etched with a mixture of frustration and weariness. She approached him, her heart aching at the distance she felt growing between them.

“Klaus,” she murmured, her voice soft and uncertain.

He turned to her, his eyes meeting hers with a mix of conflict and affection. “Y/N,” he said, his voice tinged with a hint of regret.

The silence that followed was heavy, a chasm that seemed to swallow their words before they could be spoken.

“I can't do this anymore love,” Klaus finally confessed, his voice breaking the stillness.

Y/N's heart shattered, the pain more intense than she could have ever imagined. “What do you mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Klaus's gaze was tortured, his emotions warring within him. “Elijah and Rebekah,” he said with a sigh. “They won't accept us. They think you're too young, too impulsive.”

Tears welled in Y/N's eyes, and she felt a lump forming in her throat. “And what do you think?” she choked out, her voice quivering.

Klaus reached for her, his hand cupping her cheek with tenderness. “I love you,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “But I can't keep going against my family. It's tearing us apart.”

The pain in Y/N's chest was suffocating, a weight that threatened to crush her. “So, what are you saying?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“I'm saying that we need to take a step back,” Klaus admitted, his voice barely audible. “Perhaps it's best for both of us.”

Y/N's heart shattered completely, and she took a step back, her eyes welling with tears. “You're choosing them over me?” she whispered, her voice cracking.

Klaus's eyes filled with anguish, and he reached out to her, his fingers brushing against her cheek. “Y/N…” he started desperately. “I love you, but I can't keep fighting this battle. I'm sorry sweetheart.”

The room seemed to close in around her, and Y/N turned and fled, her heartache echoing in the emptiness that surrounded her. Days turned into weeks, and the absence of Klaus felt like an ache that she couldn't escape. She could feel the weight of his absence in every corner of her life, a constant reminder of what once was.

As she stared out at the moonlit night, Y/N realized that love was not always enough to conquer the obstacles that life placed in its path. She had lost the man she loved, not because he didn't care, but because the world they lived in was too complicated, too tangled with expectations. lol She whispered his name into the night, her heart heavy with sorrow, Y/N learned that sometimes love wasn't enough to mend the fractures that threatened to tear their world apart. And in that painful realization, she felt the bittersweet ache of a love that had been both beautiful and heart wrenching—a love that would forever remain etched in her soul.

🏷️ taglist:

⤷ @mrs-maximoff-kenner @thatfanficstuff @elijahmikaelsontrash @mxacegrey @thatfictionalwh0re @catmikaelson20 @loverswillowed @sweetwrathoflilith @panic-at-the-fiction @iiskittles16ii @original-siphon @hellotvshowtrash @onlyfreds @onlyfredslibrary @imgoingtofreakoutnow @slinthoex @i-love-nora @multiversediaries @decoffinated-vamps @hopester08 @aloneatpeace @hopes-wife @softcoremaybank @klaustopia @dreamingwithrafe @sweetestdesire @cottontears @cottonreads @buckyysdoll @spnandtvdudeservedbetter @impossibleheartflower @madetragic @spike-and-angels-gf

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#aurora.r fics #request 💌 #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson x y/n #rebekah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #the originals #the originals fic #the mikaelsons #angst

[intrinsicepiphany]

Okay tumblr lets talk theories again.

(my brain rot + knowledge of religion has me all up in Hazbin Hotel right now.)

Today I want to talk Biology! Mostly because I made the poor choice of going to Twitter's chaggie tag and looking at the comments...

So can we discuss Why do so many people keep trying to apply HUMAN biology to the Half-Demon Nephillim daughter of an Arch-Angel?!

Okay I'll start at the begining and work my way to the reasons why if Charlie really wants a kid with Vaggie both of them being assigned female at creation probably isn't going to matter.

Let's start with Lucifer!

So as far as has been shown in the show Lucifer is an original Archangel even down to his lovely 6 red wings. This makes him one of the most powerful beings in heaven.

(If we go by bible text he was actually a favorite until his dreams of free will led him astray and depending on the text he merely has to admit he was wrong and ask for forgiveness to return)

Now looking at everything after this fall he has never lost his Angelic Abilities. His default powers are still angelic gold.

We do see he also has a Full Demon form when he is pissed. Interestingly enough his crown also doubles as a halo in this form. Also note for later just how much Charlie resembles him in both forms.

This suggest that at root biology Lucifer is still an archangel with demon traits. This combination is most likely what makes him the strongest being in hell by a long shot. The only reason others even have power is purely because he doesnt care enough to flex his power and has no desire to actually rule.

Now on to Lilith!

What do we know about Lilith?

Well we know she was a created human not born.

She was Adam's equal

And she left and got with Lucifer before the fall.

So here is the deal... I dont think Lilith can be classified as a sinner. She didnt die to end up in hell and in fact she fell before hell was really a thing. she helped create it after all. (Plus you know Charlie exsists)

So what IS Lilith? I think Lilith as one of a few Actual Demons. And if we have to classify her she'd be closer to a Sin. I actually think of Lilith as the Sin of Pride in Hazbin Hotel not Lucifer. We are even told that She created pentagram city and developed hell while lucifer kept to his workshop in depression.

Now let's talk about this scene for a second. Lilith fell from heaven/earth Alive and possibly even immortal since human kind was immortal before Eve took the apple.

Lilith gains power from her fall into hell. She develops demon like attributes and seems to have musical based magic. She also seems to retain or get immortality. So what does this fall mean? It means that Lilith was NOT HUMAN by the time Charlie was born.

So what does this mean for Charlie?

Well for one Charlie is NOT just some Hellborn. She is by Definition a Nephilim but she is not half-human. She would most likely be considered a Half-Demon, Half-Angel Nephilim.

This would explain her expansive (if never used) power base. The official power ranking has her tied with Lilith with only Lucifer being more powerful. Which makes complete sense. She is the Heir to the entire thing after all. (I actually think this is why Alastor couldnt make a deal for her soul and settled for a favor instead)

She also inheirited Angelic powers from her father. As seen by the fact that her default magic is gold. Which means she has angel blood in her veins. Lets be honest i wouldnt be surprised if she ended up bleeding gold in the future.

In fact she seems to have inherited most of her abilities from dear old dad.

Im pretty sure that just by shear ability and magic if Charlie wanted a kid she could probably create/magic one into exsistance no matter who her partner was.

But lets review Vaggie just for fun! Because I have thoughts

What do we actually know about Vaggie?

Well we know she is an angel. I say is because I dont think Lute or Adam actually have the power to cast an angel out of heaven AND she gets her wings back. This would mean she is not actually a sinner she would be closer to a fallen angel like lucifer.

We know she speaks Spanish and seems to be of Hispanic nature. BUT! Do we know if she was ever really human?!

We know Adam claims to have named her Vaggie. This could suggest three things

1) exorcist take on a new name when they join. But if this was true why wouldnt she leave this name behind and return to her human name once in hell? It would have kept her secret better and you'd figure she would want to leave behind the negative feelings that would come with her exorcist name.

2) Adam in his self-centered ways misheard her real name (maybe something like Aggie from Agatha or Maggie) and thought she said Vaggie or actively chose to misinterpret her name and she never cared to correct him. BUT Once more why would she not just return to her real name once with Charlie in hell?

Or 3) And this one is the real kicker. Vaggie is a Heaven-born Angel.

If the answer is 3 than it would imply that she was never human which brings her closer to lucifers biology.

Some other interesting things to consider about this last theory. Lute and Vaggie resemble each other a great deal. In fact, all the exorcist seem to have a similar body type. (I mean you could argue its the uniform but even without the uniform the resembalance between lute and vaggie is uncanny) and if I remember correctly at one point the exterminators are refered to as sister? I mean this could mean sisters-in-arms BUT What if ALL exorcist were heaven-born?

If they were never human this could explain both their ability and their desire to slay sinners. Much like Sera they wouldn't have any sympathy for the dammed because they wouldn't have any possible family that could end up down there. They would also have Very little connection to or concern for former humans. After all like Adam said they had their chance and they screwed up.

So in the end what does this all mean?

Well I actually already kind of said it

1) Fandom really needs to stop applying human biology to Charlie. She is a half demon half archangel Nephilim with incredible magic.

If charlie wants a kid she can probably magic one up no matter the obsticles please stop asking artist and writers how it is possible for her and vaggie to have a kid/get pregnant if they are both women - the answer is Charlie Magic.

2) all 4 of the above have the potential to be way stronger than they have been shown in the show.

And

3) Charlie is a potential BadAss and is just too nice to go full tactical nuke - this will be covered in my next ted talk.

#hazbin hotel theory #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #lilith morningstar #vaggie #chaggie

[droolypupboy]

MDNI KINK POST

i feel like we discuss bunny/wolf, puppy/puppy, puppy/bunny & wolf/wolf a lot around here (as we SHOULD!! amazing dynamics, i’m partial to pup on pup stuff). HOWEVER!! i feel that we as a whole r missing the potential of puppy/wolf.

sweet little farm pup wanders too far out, poor thing’s nose led him astray, ends up in wolf territory and gets bred within an inch of his life.

city dog strays too far after running off a leash, craving something more down and dirty than their pampered lifestyle, fearing on missing out on a real hearty dog’s adventure. little do they know that they’re in for the surprise of their life when a knot pokes them from behind after they find themself asleep & lost in the big scary woods.

puppies are only strong amongst each other, we’re not actually strong. we dogs can rough each other up pretty good but we have nothing on the big scary wolves. even their knots are bigger.

#petpl4y #petpl@y #t4t nsft #mlm nsft #nsft puppy #bd/sm pet #ftm nsft #ftm puppy #mlm petpl@y #t4t mlm #t4t petpl@y #t4t switch #t4t puppy #t4t sub #t4t dom #ftm switch #ftm top #ftm t4t #ftm dom #ftm sub #ftm bottom #mlm puppy

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

(For your lovely rollo event.)

Rollo, how do you feel about children? Either just in general or perhaps.. if you would ever want to be a father in the future?

Like Fire, Hellfire.

“Children?”

He handled the word as though it were a skunk—innocent and harmless for now but primed to spray at the first hint of danger. A muscle in his face ticked. It was though he wished to shift into a different emotion but hadn't yet decided which one.

Handkerchief out, Rollo sucked in a breath through his teeth. The usual disgust or disapproval was not present in full force. Today, it was tempered by hesitance as he tip-toed around the subject.

"They have the capacity to be rambunctious. Like fire, difficult to tame. I’m not certain I can match their energy," he said vaguely. “The children in the City of Flowers are free-spirited, and that tends to result in acts of mischief. Whether their pranks and games disturb public peace depends on the time and place. I'm not fond of the instances when they do."

A slight grimace crossed his features. "There was once an incident when a boy blew hard into a magically charmed handkerchief, and the noise it produced startled the baker at the cafe I was frequenting. He had just pulled out a fresh batch of croissants from the oven. The croissants ended up all over the floor... What a waste of perfectly good food. The baker, too, was quite upset, as you can imagine."

"What happened to the boy?"

"Ah, him. He attempted to abscond from the scene of the crime. In his rush to escape, he paid no attention to his surroundings and collided with me." Rollo waved a hand. "The baker's rage was upon him in an instant. The boy was shaking like a leaf in the wind—he grasped onto my robes to keep himself upright.”

Rollo drew out a sigh that ended in a small smile. “I managed to smooth things over with the baker, though I also spoke with the boy and had him apologize. One must atone for one’s crimes—that lesson was surely instilled in him that day.”

"Aw, it was nice of you to step in and speak on behalf of the little guy." You found yourself smiling as well. Even though Rollo-san always has this stern air about him… "You really have a soft spot for kids, huh?”

His frown quickly returned. "No, I wouldn't say that. I was merely holding the boy accountable for his actions. Children can so easily be led astray without proper instruction and moral guidance. Who is to say he wouldn’t be a repeat offender if he was let off the hook?”

"Someone's in denial," you said in a teasing singsong. “It’s okay to confess that you’re good at taking care of kids, you know.”

“… I am not,” he insisted. “I am most content observing the children go about their simple days. I do not wish to take a larger part in their lives beyond that.”

A terrifying thought nipped at him from the dark crevices of his mind.

I don’t have a right to.

If his heart were a house, then a window had been thrown open, letting the outside in. A hole opened in the dark, and incriminating light rushed to fill it.

A flower of pain blossomed in his chest, its thorns driving deep into his flesh. The blood that rose to the surface was both hot and cold. Burning scorn, icy remorse.

A deadly duo.

Spiraling.

I wasn't able to protect the one that mattered most of all. My magic came too late. I'm in no position to be a big brother, let alone a father, a grandfather, an uncle, a guardian of any sort…!

I’m not worthy.

Rollo gritted his teeth. His soul ablaze, his mind jumbled with emotions running high. He pushed back with teeth and nails.

It’s not my fault. I’m not to blame!! The one who cast this flame is…!

“Rollo-san?”

You were staring at him, concern seeping into your eyes. Curiosity, too, had bloomed there. It was the same sort of expression one makes at a a stray on the side of the road. Sorry for it, but uncertain about drawing near to check its condition.

He gasped—realizing he had been making a most frightening face. Rearranging his features back into some semblance of calm, he cleared his throat.

“… Suffice to say, it is impossible in this current state of affairs for any child to grow up safe and free of sin. Around every bend and corner, there is temptation of magic calling out to them. How cruel!” he lamented pityingly. “The poor things, like lambs led to the slaughter.”

You shuddered at the gruesome image—human children like lambs.

Poor things, echoed your head. Poor Rollo, echoed your heart, thinking such things.

“Until I can bring about that magic-free world into fruition, I cannot commit my efforts toward any other endeavors,” he concluded. “A world without all the pain and suffering of this one… I intend to see my goal through to the very end. That is my utmost priority.”

A fairer world for all.

For the children.

For him.

#twisted wonderland #twst #Rollo Flamme #twst x reader #Rollo Flamme x Reader #angst #spoilers #disney twisted wonderland #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #Reader #self insert #Rollo at the Writing Desk

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I grew up in the Mormon church, in a very conservative and religious home, in a neighborhood and city that were both ~99% Mormon. At 16, I stopped believing, and I told my mother. She refused to let me stop going to church, and insisted that I try believing it again. So I stopped talking about it and went back to pretending to believe. Pretty much everyone I'd ever met was Mormon, and I was afraid that if any of them found out I was an atheist, they'd rat me out to the church leadership, and word would get back to my parents. I never tried to talk to my family (or any other Mormon) about it again while I was living at home. I was scared, but I don't know what I was scared of.

Two years later, I left home for college. (I made up a lie about a non-deferable scholarship to explain why I was going to college before a Mormon mission.) Once I was out of the house, I told my parents again that I didn't believe. They didn't argue. I even moved back in with them for the summer of my freshman year. We had a few arguments about politics before we all learned to avoid those topics, but religion never came up.

A couple years after that, I started having occasional nightmares and flashbacks involving the first time I told my mother I wanted to leave the church. (I still have those.) I'd always been bad at writing to family, and this just made it harder. I wrote home less often and took longer to answer messages.

It's been eight years since I left home. I've moved to a different continent, and I haven't spoken to any of my relatives in over a year. I never talked to any of them about why. I never told them that I'm bisexual, that I'm trans, or that I've changed my name and gone on HRT. I feel like nothing I have to say about any of that would mean anything to them (except that I'm being led astray by Satan, which they already believe), so it isn't worth the effort. Especially since I don't really care about any of them that much.

I've gotten a couple of messages from relatives since I stopped answering. (None from my parents.) For the most part they seem to be following my cue.

I'm never sure if going no contact like this was unreasonable. Should I have explained what was going on? Sometimes I wonder if the fact that I've been happier since cutting them off is enough justification, or if it just makes me a bad person. Did I just make everything harder than it needed to be by keeping it all a secret for two years, then blame my parents for it when I moved out?

Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#breaking my no-influencing-the-results rule to say: op you are not even remotely the asshole and i will fight anyone who says you are #i'm proud of you for getting out and putting your mental and physical well-being first #be well <3 #aita #am i the asshole #reddit #196

[axlerica]

SECOND CHANCES~

-The One Where Trust Was Broken-

Pedri's fame and flirtations lead to the end of his relationship with Y/N. When they meet again, he begged for a second chance. Can they overcome the past and find a second chance at love? A journey of healing and rediscovery.

Once upon a time, in a bustling city of Barcelona. Y/N and Pedri were two young hearts who fell deeply in love. They met by chance at a local coffee shop, bonding over their shared love for art and poetry. Their connection was instant, and soon, they became inseparable.

As Pedri's football career began to take off, the demands of his new life as a professional player started to take a toll on their relationship. The long training hours, constant media attention, and traveling with the team made it increasingly difficult for him to spend time with Y/N.

One evening, after a particularly challenging match, Y/N decided to surprise Pedri at his apartment. As she opened the door, her heart sank at the sight before her. Pedri was surrounded by a group of girls, laughing and enjoying themselves.

Her voice shook as she confronted him, "Pedri, what's going on here?"

Pedri turned towards her, his face pale with guilt. "Y/N, it's not what it looks like," he stammered, trying to explain.

But Y/N couldn't bear to hear any more. Tears welled up in her eyes as she choked back the words, "I trusted you, Pedri. How could you do this to me?"

Pedri reached out to touch her arm, but she pulled away, feeling betrayed and hurt. "I didn't think it would hurt you this much, We were just having a party. That’s all.” he admitted.

"How could you not think it would hurt me?" Y/N's voice trembled with anger and sadness. "We were supposed to be in this together, but you've become so distant, so careless."

Pedri tried to explain, "I've been under so much pressure, and I made a mistake. These girls, they don't mean anything to me, I swear."

But Y/N couldn't bear to hear any more excuses. "I can't do this, Pedri. I can't be with someone who doesn't value our love," she said, her voice trembling with pain.

As tears streamed down her cheeks, she turned and walked away, leaving Pedri standing there, filled with regret and remorse. He knew he had made a grave mistake, and the consequences of his actions were too painful to bear.

In the following days, Pedri tried to reach out to Y/N, desperate to apologize and make amends. But the damage was done, and Y/N couldn't bring herself to forgive him. The heartbreak was too deep, and she knew she had to prioritize her own happiness and well-being.

And so, their once beautiful love story ended in heartbreak and sorrow. Pedri's fame and the pressures of his football life led him astray, and Y/N had to find the strength to heal and move forward without him.

In the years that followed, Pedri became one of the greatest footballers in the world, achieving incredible success on the field. But deep down, he always carried the regret of losing the one person who had loved him unconditionally.

As for Y/N, she focused on her art and her travels, finding solace in the beauty of the world around her. Though scarred by the past, she learned to cherish the memories of their time together and embraced the journey of healing and self-discovery.

Two years after the breakup , Pedri's attempts to reach out to Y/N remained unanswered. Each unanswered call and unopened message deepened the chasm between them. As the weight of his fame grew heavier, Pedri's personality started to change.

The adoration and praise from fans, coupled with his on-field success, fueled his ego. Pedri became more distant from his teammates, spending his time surrounded by a new group of people who were enamored by his stardom. The once humble and grounded player began to develop an air of arrogance, losing sight of the values that had endeared him to others in the first place.

His teammates noticed the change, and some tried to offer guidance, reminding him of the person he used to be. But Pedri brushed them off, convinced that he knew better. He no longer felt the need to work hard or prove himself, believing that his talent alone was enough to maintain his status.

Meanwhile, Y/N focused on rebuilding her life and finding happiness outside of the football world. Though the pain of their breakup still lingered, she was determined to move forward. She immersed herself in her art, traveling to different places and finding inspiration in every corner of the world.

One day, as Pedri was scrolling through his social media feed, he came across a post from Y/N. Her artwork was showcased in an art gallery, and the comments were filled with admiration for her talent and creativity.

For a moment, Pedri's heart tugged at the sight of her success, but he quickly dismissed the feeling. His ego had grown too large, and he couldn't bear to see her thriving without him.

Time passed, and Pedri's arrogance only intensified. He relished the attention and privileges that came with his fame, often disregarding the feelings and needs of those around him. His former humility seemed like a distant memory, replaced by a haughty demeanor that rubbed others the wrong way.

As the years went by, Pedri's career continued to flourish, but his personal life remained empty. He had attained fame and wealth, but the void left by his broken relationship with Y/N lingered, and no amount of success could fill it.

On a rainy evening, as Pedri sat alone in his luxurious penthouse, he found himself reminiscing about the love he had lost. He realized that he had become a shell of the person he once was and that his fame had brought him more loneliness than joy.

In a moment of clarity, he decided to look up Y/N's number once again, hoping to reconnect after all this time. But as he dialed her number, his heart sank when he heard the familiar automated message stating that the number was no longer in service.

Pedri's eyes filled with tears, realizing that he had let go of the one person who truly loved him for who he was. He had become too blinded by fame and his own self-importance to see the value of their love.

And so, in the bustling city where fame and success reigned, Pedri's journey had come full circle. The once humble and kind-hearted young man had become a shadow of his former self, while the woman who had loved him unconditionally had found her own path to happiness and fulfillment.

As the rain poured outside, Pedri sat alone, reflecting on the choices he had made and the person he had become. The road to fame had come at a high cost, and he couldn't help but wonder if it was worth losing the love that had once meant everything to him.

—————————

One gloomy afternoon, as raindrops fell gently on the city's streets, Pedri found himself seeking solace in their favorite coffee shop – the very place where their love story had begun. He ordered his usual, a cortado, and settled into a corner booth, lost in a sea of memories that flooded his mind.

Little did he know that fate had other plans for him that day. As he sipped his coffee, he looked up, and his heart skipped a beat. There, standing just a few feet away, was Y/N. She looked as radiant as ever, her eyes twinkling like stars in the night sky.

For a moment, time stood still. Pedri's heart raced, unsure of what to do next. The memories of their past love and the pain of their breakup weighed heavily on him. His ego and arrogance seemed to vanish, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.

Y/N noticed Pedri's gaze, and her eyes met his. The air was charged with unspoken emotions. She hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should approach him after all these years.

Pedri swallowed hard, gathering his courage. He stood up and took a step towards Y/N, his heart pounding in his chest. "Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of apprehension and hope.

Y/N's eyes softened as she looked at him. "Pedri," she replied, her voice equally tender. "It's been a long time."

He nodded, a lump forming in his throat. "I know, and I've missed you," he admitted, his vulnerability shining through.

She gave him a sad smile, "I missed you too, but things have changed, Pedri. We've both moved on."

He took a deep breath, "I know I made a lot of mistakes back then. My ego got the best of me, and I lost sight of what truly mattered."

Y/N looked into his eyes, searching for sincerity. "Pedri, it's okay. We were both young, and life took us in different directions."

He reached out to touch her hand gently, "But I never stopped loving you, Y/N. I was a fool to let you go."

She looked down, her heart torn between the past and the present. "Pedri, we can't change the past. We can only learn from it and move forward," she said, her voice trembling.

Pedri nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. "I understand, but I just had to tell you how much you meant to me. I'll always cherish the memories we shared."

Y/N's gaze softened, and she gave him a bittersweet smile. "I'll cherish them too, Pedri. But we both need to find our own happiness now."

They stood there, facing each other, the weight of their history heavy in the air. As the rain continued to fall outside, they knew it was time to say their goodbyes once again.

Pedri's heart ached as he watched Y/N walk away, knowing that he had let go of the person who had loved him unconditionally. He had lost her once, and now, he had to come to terms with the consequences of his choices.

As Y/N walked away, Pedri's heart couldn't bear the thought of losing her again. With a rush of adrenaline, he made a split-second decision and ran after her through the pouring rain.

"Y/N, please wait!" he called out, his voice filled with desperation.

She turned around, surprised to see him running towards her. The rain continued to fall heavily, but neither of them seemed to care about getting soaked.

Pedri stopped in front of her, his breathing heavy from both the run and the emotional turmoil inside him. "I can't let you go like this," he said, trying to steady his voice.

Y/N looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and regret in them. "Pedri, what are you doing?" she asked, her heart torn between wanting to give him another chance and protecting herself from potential hurt.

"I made a mistake, a big one, and I regret it every day," he confessed, his voice cracking. "I know I became arrogant and let my fame get to my head. But none of it mattered without you. You were the light of my life, and I lost sight of that."

Tears mixed with raindrops on Y/N's cheeks as she listened to his words. "Pedri, I loved you so much, but I couldn't bear the pain of watching you change. It broke my heart," she whispered.

"I know, and I'm so sorry for hurting you," he said, reaching out to gently wipe away her tears. "But I've learned from my mistakes, and I promise you, Y/N, I'll do whatever it takes to be a better person and be worthy of your love again."

Y/N took a step back, trying to compose herself. "Pedri, I can't just forget what happened. It hurt too much."

"I understand, and I don't expect you to forgive me right away," he said, his eyes pleading. "But please, give us another chance. Let me show you that I've changed."

As the rain poured down around them, Y/N hesitated, torn between the love she once had for Pedri and the pain of their past. She knew that forgiving him wouldn't be easy, but she also knew that deep down, her heart still longed for him.

"I need time, Pedri," she finally said, her voice barely audible over the rain.

"I'll wait for you, for as long as it takes," he vowed, reaching for her hand. "I'll prove to you that you're the most important thing in my life."

Y/N looked into his eyes, searching for sincerity. "If you truly mean that, then show me through your actions, not just your words," she said, holding back the tears.

Pedri nodded, determination in his gaze. "I promise, Y/N. I'll do whatever it takes to earn your trust and love back."

And so, with their hearts heavy with the weight of their past and the hope of a future, Pedri and Y/N stood in the rain, at the crossroads of love and forgiveness. Only time would tell if their love story would find its way back to the happiness they once shared.

Should I do a part 2 for this?

#pedri gonzalez #pedrito #pedri x reader #pedri x y/n #pedri imagine #pedri x you #imagine footballer #footballer #pedri angst #pedri fanfic #pedri #fc barcelona #barcalona

[petchic101]

DA Elvish

I separated all of Dragon Age's known Elvish into Nouns, idioms ect

Nouns

Titles/Types of people/Groups

Anaris: – according to an old tale, he was once tricked by Fen'Harel while dueling the Great Hunter Andruil

Andruil: Goddess of the Hunt is the elven Goddess of the Hunt, known also as "blood and force" and the "great hunter."

Arlathvhen: Meeting of the Dalish clans that occurs every ten years. Means "for love of the people."

Asha'bellanar: "The Woman of Many Years." How the Dalish refer to Flemeth.

Da'len: Little child; little one.

Daern'thal: Known Forgotten One

Din: The dead.

Dirthamen: Keeper of Secrets, is the twin brother of Falon'Din and is the elven god of secrets and knowledge, and master of the ravens Fear and Deceit. Dirthamen gave to elves the gift of knowledge and taught them loyalty and faith in family.

Elgar: Spirit.

Dirth'ena enasalin: "Knowledge that led to victory"; the Elvish term for the Arcane Warrior or, more recently, Knight Enchanter disciplines.

Durgen’len: Children of the stone; the Ancient Elvish term for the dwarves.

Elgar'nan: God of Vengeance also known as the All-Father, the Eldest of the Sun and He Who Overthrew His Father—represents fatherhood and vengeance, and leads the pantheon with the goddess Mythal.

Elvhen: Elven name for their own race; our people.

Elvhenan: The name of the elven civilization before the arrival of humans in Thedas; the place of our people.

Era'harel: Demon-mage; similar to an arcane horror.

Evanuris: Leader; Translated by Dorian in context as "mage leader"; what the elvhen called their gods.

Falon: Friend.

Falon'Din: Friend of the Dead, the Guide is the elven God of Death and Fortune and guides the dead to the Beyond. He and his twin brother, Dirthamen, are the eldest children of Elgar'nan the All-Father and Mythal the Protector.

Fen'Harel: The Dread Wolf is an enigmatic trickster god of the elves, whose supposed betrayal of both the benevolent Creators and the malefic Forgotten Ones is the only explanation most elves have for the destruction of Arlathan. Dalish clans view him with wariness and seek to protect themselves and their kin from his treachery. It is revealed by Solas in Mythal's temple that this could be a misinterpretation by the Dalish and instead he was the god of rebellion.

Geldauran: Known Forgotten One

Ghilan'nain: Mother of the Halla is called the Mother of the halla—white deer-like creatures revered by the Dalish and used to pull their aravel, or "landships"—and goddess of navigation.

Ghil-Dirthalen: "One who guides seekers of knowledge true."

Ghilan'him banal'vhen: "The path that leads astray": a derogatory term for Arcane Warriors among those elves who eschewed physical combat.

Hahren'al: A gathering of hahrens during the Arlathvhen.

Hahren: Elder; used as a term of respect by the Dalish as well as by city elves for the leader of an alienage.

Harillen: Opposition.

June: God of the Craft is the elven Master of Crafts. He is variously described either as a brother to Andruil and Sylaise or as Sylaise's husband. He taught the elves to make bows, arrows, and knives to hunt Andruil's gifts.

Lethallin/Lethallan/Lethallen: Casual reference used for someone with whom one is familiar; generally, lethallin is used for males while lethallan is used for females; lethallen has been stated to be the appropriate gender neutral term unless otherwise stated later in canon, though it is likely to remain the same. Note: Though "lethallin" is usually used for males and "lethallan" for females, as stated above

Lethanavir: Another appellation of Falon'Din the elven god of death and fortune who guides the dead to the Beyond.

Mien'harel: Rebellion; depending on the interpretation, a violent call for justice; a concept that when humans push the elven population too far they must remind them that even a "short blade" must be respected; most commonly a term used by city elf.

Mythal: the Great Protector, the Protector and the All-Mother, and goddess of love, is the patron of motherhood and justice and leads the pantheon with her male counterpart, Elgar'nan.

Shemlen: The original name elves use for the human race; continues to see use as a slang term amongst the City Elves ("shems") even though its meaning has largely been lost; literally "quick children".

Somniari: Dreamer.

Sylaise: the Hearthkeeper is the goddess of all the domestic arts and the sister of Andruil the Huntress. Sylaise gave the elves fire, and taught them how to weave rope and thread, and to use herbs and magic for healing purposes.

Vhenallin: Friends of the People.

Nature

Adahl/Adhal: Tree.

Adahlen: Wood.

Alas: Earth, dirt.citation needed

Dahl'amythal: Tree of Mythal from which Dalish Keepers’ staves are cut.

Durgen: Stone.citation needed

Elgara: Sun.

Felandaris: Demon weed.

Vallas: Set, as in the setting of the sun.

Vallasdahlen: Trees planted in remembrance of those who dedicated their lives to the Dalish kingdom that grew into a mighty wood; life-trees.

Vhenadahl: The tree of the people.

Vhen'alas: The land itself, as in "the ground"; literally "our earth".citation needed

Vunin: Day.

Animal

Fen: Wolf.

Hallas: are a type of horned stag; some are herded by the Dalish—who use them to pull their aravels, or landships. Their milk is also made into cheese and butter.[2] The Dalish do not consider them beasts of burden but noble companions. To get them to accompany a clan, the Dalish elves ask rather than force them to.

Hanal'ghilan: Elven name for the mythical golden halla said by the Dalish to appear during times of great need; the pathfinder.

Body/Self

Banal'ras: Shadow.

Renan: Voice.

Taren: Mind.

Vallaslin: Blood writing; The art of tattooing adopted by some elves to more prominently display their worship of the traditional elven pantheon.

Vhenan: Heart; often used as a term of endearment.

Concept

Abelas: Sorrow; to be sorry.

Aravel: A wagon used by the Dalish; also a physical and spiritual path, a journey with purpose. Humans call them "landships."

Atish’an: Peace.

Athim: Humility.

Bellanaris: Eternity.

Din'an: Death; end.

Din'anshiral: A journey of death.

Dirth: A term for knowledge or secrets; tell; speak.citation needed

Enasalin: Victory.

Enansal: Blessing.

Enaste: Favor.

Halani: Help.

Hamin: Rest.

Harellan: Trickster; used by the Dalish to mean "traitor to one's kin".

Melana: Time.

Melanada: All time. 

Melava: Time;

Revas: Freedom.

Shiral: Journey.

Sulahn'nehn: Rejoice; joy.

Sulevin: Purpose.

Vir: Way; we.

Weapons/Equipment

Assan: Arrow.

Bor'assan: Bow.

Felassan: Slow arrow.

Mi: Blade.citation needed

Places

Arlathan: The major city of Elvhenan, original homeland of the elves; from the phrase "ar lath’an" meaning, "This place of love".

Banalhan: A name for the Blight or its place of origin; the place of nothing.

Dirthavaren: The promise; the Elven name for the Exalted Plains.

Halamshiral: The capital of the second elven homeland in the Dales; the end of the journey.

Setheneran: Land of waking dreams; a place where the Veil is thin.

Tarasyl'an Te'las: The place where the sky was held back; Ancient Elven name for Skyhold.

Vhenas: Home.

Vir'abelasan: The place of the way of sorrows; refers to the Well of Sorrows.

Other

Aravel: A wagon used by the Dalish; also a physical and spiritual path, a journey with purpose. Humans call them "landships."

Banalhan: A name for the Blight or its place of origin; the place of nothing.

Elgar'arla: Spirit-trap; a binding circle to hold a spirit or demon.

Eluvian: Mirror; literally "seeing glass."

Mi'durgen: Diamond; literally 'blade stone'.

Adjective

Eth: Safe.citation needed

Mirthadra: Honored.

Sa: One; one more.

Shem: Quick.

Tan: Three.

Then: Awake; alert.citation needed

Verb

Abelas: Sorrow; to be sorry.

Dirth: A term for knowledge or secrets; tell; speak.citation needed

Dirthara: Learn;

Dirthera: To tell tales.

Enfenim: To fear.

Ghilana: To guide.

Ghilas: To go.

Harel: To trick or deceive;

Him: Become.

Las: Grant; give.

Lasa ghilan: Grant/give guidance.

Lath: Love of being; to be in love.

Numin: Cry.

Nuvenin: Say, as in “as you say”.

Samahl: Laugh.

Somniar: To dream.

Sulahn'nehn: Rejoice; joy.

Sulahn: Sing.

Uthenera: The name of the ancient practice of immortal elves who would "sleep" once they tired of life; immortal; waking sleep; literally "eternal waking dream".citation needed

Pronoun

Ar: First person pronoun; I, me.

Mala: Your.

Mir: My.

Var: Our.

Vir: Way; we.

Ect

Banal: Never.

Dar: To be.citation needed

In: In.

Ir: I am.

Iras: Where.

Irassal: Wherever.

La: And.

Na: Is.

Pre/Suffix

-an: Suffix indicating place or location.

Da: Diminutive prefix; small.

Idioms

Andaran atish’an: "Enter this place in peace." A formal elven greeting.

Aneth ara: A sociable or friendly greeting, more commonly used among the Dalish themselves rather than with outsiders.

Ara seranna-ma: A way to excuse oneself, such as after a sneeze or belch.

Banal nadas: Nothing is known for certain./Not necessarily.

Boranehn: Lost joy.

Dareth shiral: farewell; literally "Safe journey."

Enasal: Joy in triumph over loss; a variation of joyful relief.

Falon’Din enasal enaste: A prayer for the dead.

Fen'Harel enansal: The Dread Wolf's blessing.

Fen'Harel ma ghilana: "Dread Wolf guides you." Indicates someone being misled.

Halam'shivanas: The sweet sacrifice of duty.

Hellathen: Noble struggle.

Ir abelas: I am sorry.

Lathbora viran: Roughly translated as "the path to a place of lost love," a longing for a thing one can never really know.

Nadas: Inevitability; something that must be; used as an expression of obligation, i.e. "must".

Ma nuvenin: As you say.

Ma vhenan: My heart; sometimes shortened simply to vhenan, "heart"; a term of endearment.

Ma serannas: My thanks./Thank you.

Mana. Ma halani: Help me. 

Mythal'enaste: Mythal's favor.

Penshra! Ghilas vellathan!: Politely translated as "I prefer that you remain close."

Revasan: The place where freedom dwells.

Sahlin: Now; is come.

Sa'vunin: One more day.

Solas: Pride; to stand tall.

Solasan: A prideful place.

Suledin: The concept of finding strength in enduring loss or pain; endure.

Tel'abelas: I'm not sorry.

Telanadas: Nothing is inevitable.

Var lath vir suledin!: Our love will endure

Vir enasalin!: We will win!

Vir sumeil: We are close.

Commands/Threats/Curses

Bellanaris Din'an Heem: "Make you dead."

Dirthara-ma: "May you learn." Used as a curse.

Fenedhis: Meaning officially undefined as of yet; a common curse.

Fenedhis lasa: Meaning officially undefined as of yet. A common curse.

Fen'Harel ma halam: "Dread Wolf ends you." A threat.

Garas: Come.

Garas quenathra: "Why are you here?/Why have you come?" Spoken by the voices of the Vir'abelasan

Masal din'an: A threat, meaning unknown.

Na abelas: You'll be sorry.

Na din'an sahlin!: Your death is come!

Na melana sahlin: Your time is come.

Specific Sentences

Ar lasa mala revas: "You are free." More literally "I give you your freedom."

Ar lath ma, vhenan: "I love you, heart/my heart"

Ar-melana dirthavaren. Revas vir-anaris: Fen'Harel’s secret greeting. Meaning unknown.

Atish'all Vir Abelasan: "Enter the path of the Well of Sorrows."

Dirth ma banal. Mar solas ena mar din: "You have learned nothing. Your pride will be your death/downfall." A Dalish saying.

Dirth ma, harellan. Ma banal enasalin. Mar solas ena mar din: Roughly means: "Your pride is responsible for everything that has gone wrong; you will die alone."

Ir abelas, ma vhenan: "I am filled with sorrow for your loss, my heart."

Ir tel'him: I'm me again.

Ma banal las halamshir var vhen: You do nothing to further our people. 

Ma harel, da’len: You lie, child.

Ma harel lasa!: You lied to me.

Ma ghilana mir din'an: Guide me into death.

Ma melava halani: You helped me.

Mala suledin nadas: Now you must endure.

Malas amelin ne halam: I hope you find a new name.

Melana en athim las enaste: Now let humility grant favor.

Sulevin ghilana hanin: Roughly translates to "purpose guides to glory". This is an inscription on the back of the Dalish shield called "The Path to Glory".

Sylaise enaste var aravel. Lama, ara las mir lath. Bellanaris.: Dalish marriage vows.

Tel garas solasan: Come not to a prideful place.

#dragon age inquistor #lavellan #inquisitor lavellan #da2 #dai #dragon age 2 #dragon age #elven

[daemon-in-my-head]

Past Life Dark Urge Asks - 9th Edition:

OK but how does Durge actually view relationships and romance?

What does their room look like? Describe it to me. Neat? Messy? Organised mess where everything has its place?

What's their favourite spot to hang out at after a long day of temple managing and murdering in Father's name? Is it by the altar, their desk, a certain someone's office or by the docks?

Gorion's Ward was a hero and a Bhaalspawn that defied Bhaal. But they're also a powerful person who rose far above many, as well as the reason Sarevok once returned. What does Durge think of them? Is he an idol or a villain to them? When did their view of them change or do they perhaps even feel pity for the sibling which had been led astray?

Durge loves efficient killing, but what was their one little indulgence whenever they did it? I don't mean getting loot, keeping trinkets. Did they perhaps draw out the hunt or play with the mouse unfortunate enough to fall into their trap?

There's this funny bit that Durge refused to clean themselves, but is it true for yours? Did they indeed always carry the scent of entrails or did they bathe regularly? After all, Bhaals Scion has a reputation to uphold.

Speaking of Water, Baldur's Gate is a Port City. What did Durge think of the sea? Did they long to sail or do they prefer solid ground beneath their feet? Did they feel any connection, or was it just a body of water, perfect to drown some innocent souls?

Durge is clearly a skilled master of their craft, but would they ever consider taking an apprentice? Perhaps they already did? Or would they absolutely detest those who yet lack skill and prefer they attain it on their own?

Orin makes for a great spy and even the Bhaalist Temple relies on intelligence to survive and operate more efficiently. Did Durge ever try to help out Orin in attempts to gather intel? What was it like? Did they charm their way into hearts and minds, or did they rely on the thing they did best, a skillful killing?

Bhaalspawn are pretty similar to Aasimar in every aspect, well except that Aasimar are children of celestials and good aligned powers while Bhaalspawn hail from the Lord of Murder. What did Durge think of their goody-two-shoes counterparts?

Bhaal is widely hated or feared, as are Bhaalspawn, but what does Durge think about that notion? Would they hunt down anyone who dares speak I'll of their father, or could they not care any less? Do they perhaps revel in that fear and hatred?

If Durge knew they'd lose all their memories in the future, what would they think? Would they weep for their treasured moments or perhaps even feel delighted about forgetting a dreaded past?

Name a personality trait of theirs which is, in theory, something great, but they've taken it to such extremes it became something negative.

How is Durge handling failure? Do they handle it at all or do they just refuse to acknowledge any?

Would Past Life Durge like for their life's story to be told and remembered? Why or why not? In what way would they have liked it to be remembered?

In general, how does your Durge cope with stress, life, and the things that happened? How did it affect them? Are there any lasting effects from an outburst once?

On a scale of 1 to 10, how easily does your Durge snap? 1 being the world could end, and they'd barely be mildly inconvenienced, and 10 being somebody looks funny in their direction, and the next minute, they're in a nasty brawl.

What is their favorite spell? It doesn't have to be one they themselves know or learned. Just a spell they think is neat, handy, cool, etc.

If there happened to be a street fair in the Gate, would they attend? Yes or no, who would they go with, what would it be like visiting one of those with them?

Bhaal was a netherese arcanist. Does Durge, considering they're made from Bhaals flesh, consider themselves to be netherese? Have they ever thought about these things or do they simply not care?

I totally forgot I had these I'm sorry lmao. They've been rotting away in my drafts the whole time.

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #durge #dark urge #bg3 durge #daemons ask game #dark urge ask game #durge ask game #bg3 ask game #ask game

[m1d-45]

the wind knows

summary: a series of haikus to ‘imposter’ reader, wherein kazuha knows the truth

word count: ~600

-> warnings: spoilers for inazuma archon quest / kazuha lore? implied violence? imposter au things- it’s implied reader dies, so……

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yum1x

< masterlist >

many letters were scrapped, left to sit in the trash. when pen finally meets proper page, the sun has long since set. still, the motions are careful and sure, as if it hadn’t taken hours of preparation to bear fruit.

the world has waited

for the brightest star to fall

i have waited too

the faint scent of the sea stains the poem, the wax seal dusted with salt. contained within the envelope is the product of boredom at the docks, impatience vented onto paper.

an ocean between

the trip is bound by man’s speed

you are worth the wait

the high point of the crow’s nest allows for far sight, land appearing on the horizon a precious few moments before anybody below notices. words seem to appear in the mind, bandages staining with ink in the hasty retrieval of paper. once down, it would be transferred to something neater, but that is not the priority.

the geo-filled spires

meet together with crashing water

i hope we meet soon.

words are heard, names are called. even after a day of searching, of following the wind that has never led astray, nothing is found. nobody is found. the captain of the fleet makes a comment that goes unheard, thoughts caught up in new lines. a hand traces them out, even if there’s only air below; it’s never meant to be sent, after all.

liyue is empty

of nothing but what’s needed

where could you have gone?

the next day is just as fruitless, nobody at the docks reporting anything new. the wind brings him a small cluster of torn up pages, the familiar writing of lady ningguang scrawled across them. he can’t catch full phrases, the paper scraps too small, but the very fact that the shredded snow had fallen scares him in a way it shouldn’t. the wind warns, but of what?

rumors cross the streets

the air is taught with tension

please let it rest soon

the harbor bustles with more life than normal. people shout and cry, everybody slowly moving away from the docks and deeper into the city. sailors are confused, having only barely returned, but a flyer hastily shoved into their hands by a vendor makes everything clear. the sharp, commanding voice of the captain reads it out, the letter of execution snatched from her hands as red eyes hope and pray it’s fake.

i hope it’s not you

even as i know it is

how could this happen?

white hair shoves through a crowd, his mind blurred with both the aura of the divine and panic from the jeering people around. bodies press in around him but he forces his way though, managing to catch glimpses of the stage. the tianquan, lazily flipping the pages of her catalyst. the funeral director, star-filled eyes now blank and empty with hatred. and him, him, the one who bears an impossible amount of geo, him who stains the air with ancient names and archaic rituals, him with a spear that shines like pure gold in the sun.

kazuha finally bursts through the crowd, the eyes of the millelith snapping to him as he stumbles on the bricks below. it doesn’t matter. he’s too late.

for the second time, somebody he loved dies at the hands of an unfeeling god.

heretical sin

the world itself cries in pain

how could you leave me?

#genshin impact sagau #sagau #genshin sagau #sagau impostor au #genshin imposter au #sagau kazuha #kazuha x you #sagau x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #kazuha #kazuha x reader #angst #sagau angst #kazuha angst #man this was so much fun to write. wholeheartedly enjoyed myself during this one lads #mmm being cryptic on a friday night (it’s monday) #gonna be so embarrassed if i find out i miscounted syllables on one of these. it’s supposed to be 5-7-5 and i’m only 83% confident i did it

[deaths-presence]

Two of a Kind || Dazai x Reader Part 2: Don't Look Back

Story Summary: The search for your brother has led you into conflict between the Armed Detective Agency of Yokohama and the Guild. Fitzgerald keeps you involuntarily, that is until you finally find your chance of escape. Will you find strength within the ADA, or will you only become more astray? Word Count: 1,622 Characters Featured: Nathaniel Hawthorne, Margaret Mitchell, small ADA assembly, small Port Mafia assembly Warnings: afab!reader, slowburn, plot heavy to build up romance, hints of Fitzgerald being Yikes and abusive, usual Port Mafia violence, lmk if I happened to miss anything please

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next day you discovered that the Guild had arrived in Yokohama. You were still waking up from a horrible slumber when Hawthorne came to escort you out of your room. You pushed through your fatigue to get dressed, your fingers dancing over the China blue tulle that was decorated in beautiful pink flower embroidery. The dress was comfortable and easy to put on, hugging the top half of your body perfectly while the rest flowed out without being too high maintenance to walk in. You hastily put your hair up in a ponytail after brushing it before meeting Hawthorne at your door.

You politely walked side-by-side with him after he closed the door behind you. The silence between the two of you was comfortable, but you could recognize the feeling that surrounded you. Something was going to happen today, and the thought alone made the anxiety swell in your chest. It didn’t seem like it was just to have a meeting with Fitzgerald either. No, not with the prospect of reaching Yokohama.

“We are to be leaving the Moby Dick and making headquarters on land,” Hawthorne spoke quietly as if reading your mind. His eyes did not move to look at you. Everything in his expression told you that there was a storm brewing on the horizon. You didn’t quite know what Fitzgerald’s plan was, but he was never simple and respectful with obstacles in his way.

“I am to understand that there is something Lord Francis wants in this city?” You grimaced, the name poison on your tongue.

“He went to negotiate with one of the local organizations yesterday,” Hawthorne replied.

“It did not go well. Not like his other business deals that money manages to fix.”

You swore you caught a flicker of a smirk on his face. If so, it disappeared as quickly as it was shown. On your way to presumably meet with Fitzgerald, you gradually ran into more Guild members that followed behind you and Hawthorne. Your eyes catch the mint ballgown from Lady Margaret, looking refined and proper as always; Lucy with her two thick braids of red hair that bounced with each turn of her head; Melville, who was a quiet old soul that you had only caught glimpses of since being with the Guild. Even Twain with his shirt barely covering his chest would be joining you today.

Your eyes caught sight of the door you had come to loathe throughout your forced stay. It was the door where Fitzgerald spent most of his time when he had to be behind a desk, but for you it was a reminder of the physical abuse; the items thrown at you and demands to change into the person they belonged to; the hands around your throat whenever you refused to push yourself further; the threats of finding your brother and capturing him in order to make you cooperate. Fitzgerald wasn’t afraid to show his true colors. His behavior was what had gotten him so far.

You weren’t aware of the way your body was involuntarily shaking until Lady Margaret made a haughty, discontented noise. You always felt so small in her presence, especially when she turned up her nose. “Heavens to Betsy, are you gonna do that the entire time we’re here?”

Many people would rise to the occasion and become snarky in response, but you knew how Margaret could be. She came across as arrogant whether you were a highly respected colleague or low on the totem pole in the Guild. You had to admire her diligence and the way she carried herself, an air of confidence constantly around her. If she ordered something to be done, it was completed with no questions asked. It is a personality trait you wish you had more of.

You took a deep breath before slowly exhaling, some of your shaking moderately disappearing by momentarily escaping your train of thought. You offered Margaret a small smile. “I apologize, Lady Margaret. I know it can be quite distracting.”

Your words soothed her apparent irritation, seeming to approve of your apology. You both entered once the door was opened by James, the rest of the Guild filing in behind you. All eyes were on their leader that had been waiting behind the door. Though you would’ve loved to keep your body from shaking, Fitzgerald’s eyes on you were enough to destroy the momentary walls of protection you gave yourself.

“Good, the remainder of you are here,” Fitzgerald started with his usual cocky smirk, threading his fingers together and leaning forward on his desk. “We need to begin groundwork in Yokohama. Seeing as this is hardly a good proposition for central headquarters, I will be sending a couple of you to prepare the Zelda to become the head of this operation.”

Hawthorne was correct before, then. You had no doubts about the religious man after how well he had treated you so far, but it allowed you to realize that Fitzgerald must have already made his decision of who he was sending if Hawthorne knew about it.

“Margaret and Nathaniel, I entrust the Zelda to you, along with our dear new friend.” Fitzgerald’s grin brought thoughts of jumping off the Moby Dick, but you didn’t linger on the thought long before he spoke again. “The rest of you will be divided on making moves on the Detective Agency and the Port Mafia. I already have John and Lovecraft down there as we speak.”

Not a word was said. Not even a nod of acknowledgement was seen. The sound of feet shuffling to follow orders was the only thing heard, and you soon found yourself standing between Hawthorne and Lady Margaret afterwards. You were to depart with them and the others before going your own way to fulfill Fitzgerald’s wishes. There was no need to pack anything, as your belongings would be brought to the Zelda. Half of you was screaming for joy that you would be kept elsewhere, but you knew that you would still be suffering surveillance. You had observed Hawthorne and Lady Margaret long enough to know you could not escape them if you wanted to.

Your chest was mixed with several emotions as you prepared for leaving the Moby Dick.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You didn’t expect to be involved in a fight so soon, but it just so happened that you and the other Guild members landed into a match between the Armed Detective Agency and the ruthless Port Mafia. The several eyes trained on you in shock made you want to squirm, but you only stood quietly. You noted the addition of Steinbeck and Lovecraft to your group now.

“Really? Fire!”

The woman in the pink kimono brought you out of your uncomfortable disposition, your body reacting before your brain as the gunfire reached you. The fountain behind you made your decision, activating your ability and taking on the appearance of a woman you had managed to touch in passing per Fitzgerald’s request. It didn’t take much focus since it had become a default one for you, and within seconds the men firing at you were wiped out by a wave of water that knocked them off their feet. The power of water manipulation was one of the strongest you had in your mental closet of appearance changes.

Your natural hair color was now replaced by dark, blue-toned hair that was almost black, and your eyes were now a striking ocean blue as they surveyed the rest of the area. The people who you considered colleagues despite the circumstances had already started making their own moves of attack. You continued your defensive tactic, even knocking some of the guns out of their hands before your eyes caught sight of brilliant colors that stunned you.

His eyes reminded you of watching the sunset back in the countryside where you came from, the long summer nights where the sky would turn yellow, orange, and purple before bringing forth a pitch-black sky littered with stars. You couldn’t help but stare at the boy, and despite him already sustaining injuries from before, he paused at your own hesitation. Neither of you dared move until Hawthorne broke your connection with his own ambush. You tried to hide the gasp that escaped from your lips as the boy with white choppy hair spat blood, the new injury rendering him to his knees.

The shock was enough for you to lose your shapeshifted appearance, returning to your normal one as you watched the boy collapse. You realized with dread that he wasn’t much younger than you, and you nearly knelt to help him before Hawthorne quickly stepped in your way. Those cold icy eyes of his pierced into you as they always did, but this time they felt like a warning.

“We have our own duties. Let us go.”

You were quiet before stiffly nodding in agreement, though as you started to walk away you looked back towards the boy that had given you a slice of mercy in exchange for his own life. You tore your eyes away to look at the rest of the scene. Your colleagues had swiftly left them bleeding and injured, your gaze hovering over the blonde your age with blood on his tan attire and glasses that were askew; then to the blonde who was lifeless and appeared even younger than the boy you had faced. Your stomach twisted and turned at the bodies.The Guild is not necessarily a nice organization. You do what you’re told, and that’s it. Take care to remember that if nothing else. Steinbeck’s words from yesterday rang through your head while you robotically followed Hawthorne and Lady Margaret to prepare for the Zelda.

#dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x female reader #dazai imagines #dazai x y/n

[wolven91]

Drifting - Part 10

“Ah! Casper my boy!” Exclaimed Zeet. It was the older engineer geckin who had been supporting the young man's progress as a brand new mech pilot. The blue geckin had been the one in the first instance to suggest to the young man that he give piloting a try and so far had been a stalwart ally and straight shooting voice of reason for Casper.

Despite the engineer’s enthusiasm, Zeet had never led Casper astray, nor had any of his machines failed the young man. The human felt he could trust this geckin, as far as his equipment went at the very least. 

“Good morning Zeet, I understand it's the moment of truth?” Replied Casper, calmer than he expected. Qik stepped into the room not a single step behind the human and marched over to the correctly sized chairs. She pulled out the centre one and sat directly in front of the High Commander, the black and purple geckin in charge of the geckin people’s military actions.

She would be the one in control of the upcoming operation.  

This was when Casper noticed that there was a small crowd of geckins already sitting on the other side of the broad table that dominated the room. With only two chairs on ‘his’ side, it was quite obvious where he was meant to sit. Casper couldn’t help but squint and narrow his eyes at the people arrayed in front of him. Wasn’t it a bit heavy handed? Zeet, Wren, the High Commander and a slew of other geckins that the man had yet to have met, at least as far as he was aware of. Were they all needed to brief the pair of mercenaries?

Zeet seemed undeterred. 

“Indeed! The moment of truth! Oh, I can’t w-” Although the older alien couldn’t finish his sentence as a curt, sharp voice cut him off and he went silent instantly.

“Enough Zeet. Casper, why not sit with your… colleague?” Suggested the High Commander, not in the slightest giving him another option. Her tone was mocking, but he had no doubt she held little regard to either Qik or the pair of them.

Casper didn’t say anything, and instead calmly walked over to sit and join Qik at the table. She was perfectly still and a perfect picture of cold, calm and calculating. Casper kept his silence, and waited for someone else to speak.There was a pregnant moment of silence. 

The High Commander was the first to break the pause and spoke in a haughty tone.

“As per your contract Qik, we have need to run an op on the same planet as before.” She explained, blinking slowly and looking down her short snout at the lopeljack mercenary. Qik was unphased. 

“What’s the gig?” She asked without missing a beat.

“They’re amassing a sizable mechanised force in the former cities. Orbital operations are still at a stand still, neither of us want to have to report the loss of a ship.” The Commander explained, waving a hand dismissing the orbital fleets as if it were a non-issue. 

“So you want us to cut them down?” Qik asked, fishing for details.

“Exactly.” The purple and black geckin replied without assisting. Her eyes blinking slowly again, she kept them focused on Qik, pointedly ignoring Casper. He made no attempt to insert himself, he trusted Qik implicitly. The lopel stared the geckin down for a moment before breaking her gaze and shrugging, leaning back into her chair.

“Seems straight forward, I would have thought you would have used us in something more valuable.” She mused aloud, interlocking her fingers and gazing lazily at the geckin. Casper’s eyes narrowed a fraction just as he noticed the scale below her right eye twitch. A tell?

“I am a geckin of my word. This is the first combat operation we need to deploy against. The choice is our own mechanised force, which is a cost and a risk, or we rid ourselves of the two drains upon our resources.” The aloof geckin explained, again, waving her hand in the air without her elbows leaving them table. 

“Drains?” Casper asked, unable to bite his tongue in time. The geckin finally turned her attention to the human. 

“With your contracts complete you will have no need to stay and we can invest in professionals that mind their business.” Replied the commander, obviously peeved at the pair of them. 

The geckin turned her attention back to Qik, despite only being a foot tall, Casper was near certain he saw the mental image of a tank turret, slowly traversing as the High Commander turned and stared at Qik. 

The lopel merely stared back. 

“Make no mistake, we are not pleased with your interference with Casper and his training.” She explained curtly. Qik shrugged and pulled a uncaring face. 

“I trained him how I would train any pilot, just as you’ve asked me to do for the last hundred you sent my way. He’s no different.” She defended calmly. Casper had no idea if that was true. Did she use all her trainees as body pillows? 

He kept this thought to himself.

“And yet he’s the first to demand his own contract?” The High Commander demanded.

“Ask him yourself.” Qik offered, gesturing at Casper to her left. The young man tried not to have a heart attack. 

“Well?” The High Commander inquired, staring a hole through the centre of Casper’s forehead. Casper swallowed and gathered his thoughts, not sure if he was ready to be put on the spot already. But the man had, had plenty of time to think and consider the matter. Clearing his throat, he offered his explanation, as honestly as he could. 

“I’m not geckin ma’am. I would assume your pilots are quite loyal to your people?” He asked slowly. 

“Every one of them.” She replied without hesitation. 

“I am grateful for your help, but I’m not geckin. There was no plan for me to stay long term. You got me dropped into your lap. This was just an accident, you couldn’t have expected me to stay?” Casper asked, trying to appeal to her common sense. A human to babysit wasn’t exactly a boon to anyone, let alone a government or private organisation that would apparently need to prove he was happy on a regular basis?

Casper wasn’t expecting the cold, sharp, humourless grin to spread across her face. 

“Hmph, quite the contrary. We fought for a sizable number of humans to be provided to the geckin territories.” She explained, almost off handedly. It hadn’t been what Casper had expected her to say in slightest. He frowned, outright confused. 

“What, why? You don’t know us.” He demanded. 

“Politics, as with everything.” She offered, waving her hand as she did. 

“So not the kindness of your heart then?”

That got a snort of derision from the small creature. She leant forward and interlaced her fingers, resting her snout beneath her fingers while staring Casper directly in the eye as she spoke next. 

Her words were low and intense. She believed every word she uttered with every fibre of her being. Casper was certain of that. 

“You are not an idiot so don’t be naive. No. The geckin people are under attack by the cowardly ssypno and their gluttonous nobility. All the while, their queen sits idly while our freedom is crushed within their coils.” The High Commander explained, baring her teeth as she spoke.

“Our very existance is up for debate amongst the high tri-table and we will not merely sit by while the next hunt begins.” She pulled her arms apart, one hand slapping against the table while the other pointed at Casper to emphasise her point. 

“Demanding our fair share to the human population that was being divided amongst the other races was a method of establishing our legitimacy to be sat at the table, as frustrating as it is to have to resort to such methods.” She explained, waving awake the unpleasant concept as if it bothered her like a fly.

Casper blinked, turning over this information in his head.

“Humans were… divided up amongst the other races?” He asked. 

“Yes. Humans have captured the hearts and minds of every race across the stars. The general populace of every sentient race demand we ‘save’ you.” The geckin snorted. “I will be blunt as there is no harm in being honest at this point.”

She paused, but Casper gave her every ounce of his attention. This was not knowledge that was available to him. He needed to hear this. The High Commander locked eyes with the human and spoke with conviction. 

“I do not care if your people die. But while you’re alive, you are the perfect tool for my people. A shield to aggression. No ssypno force, noble or royal, would *dare* attack a base, city or maybe even planet if there was a single human present.” The High Commander revealed, shocking Casper to his core. He felt his lips part, as if to retort, but no words came out. 

“You’re the perfect shield.” She pointed out as if the sky was blue and water was wet. 

Casper turned this concept over in his head as he considered this from every angle. He was staring at the wood grain of the table, but wasn’t seeing it. 

Until he made the connection, and looked back up at her. 

“But now I want off the planet.” He pointed out. 

“So we will lose control of you and lose your protection.” She finished. Almost smug in that Casper had to have had this information explained. She was not talking as if she was in a poor position. Why? What was giving her this confidence? 

“Why do I feel you have another card up your sleeve?” He asked. 

“An odd saying, but yes, my tail has yet to fall off.” She retorted. She paused, and allowed Casper a time to stay there, in his ignorance. Qik also said nothing, but was still avidly watching her. The lopel eyes intense and serious. 

Eventually, the geckin spoke again. 

“I wonder… How will the many bleeding hearts of the galaxy feel ‘if’ or rather, ‘when’, the ssypno forces fire on a human?” The geckin tilted her head.  “We will record and present every moment of your operation. Success or failure, we remove at least some of their forces from the board and weaken the ssypno’s desire to fight.”

The wicked grin returned as the High Commander leaned forward, pressing her fingertips and claws into the table, leaving curled wood at the end of new grooves in the priceless wood. 

“The ssypno people will see their nobility attacking their precious humans and revolt. That… is the value you hold.” The High Commander concluded, grinning and licking her absent lips. 

Casper had no retort, nothing he could say. He would be used regardless of his actions. Qik however, didn’t care. A job was a job and the sooner she and the human completed it, the sooner they could get to the other side the spiral. 

“Fascinating as it is, can we finalise the contracts?” Qik asked disinterestedly, suspending her hand in the air as if offering a solution. The High Commander affixed a ‘smile’ across her features while the rest of the geckins remained perfectly impassive. Casper didn’t like it immediately and the hairs on the back of his neck all slowly raised on end. 

The only exception to this and seemingly oblivious to the ongoing power players, was Zeet who immediately piped up and began to present his PDA, turning it briefly.

“Oh! Yes! I have some marvellous plans for you to-”

“Zeet. Shut.” The High Commander demanded. Zeet paused immediately, returning to his chair and hiding the screen from view. Qik narrowed her eyes, glancing from Zeet, back to the High Commander.

“Something you’re not telling us?” She asked, obviously sensing the same issue Casper was. The High Commander acted surprised and grinned again. 

“Oh no. You will deploy as you have done in the past with your equipment.” She offered. Qik outright frowned and her voice dropped an octave. 

“...What of Casper’s rig?” She demanded, deadly serious. 

“Casper doesn’t own a rig.” The High Commander offered, seemingly confused as to why Qik would ask. . 

“How do you expect him to fight?” The lopel asked, audibly speaking through clenched teeth.

“I suppose we could…  supply a firearm, for free.” The purple and black striped geckin offered pleasantly, as if that was reasonable or acceptable. 

Qik was on her feet in an instant, hands on the table, looming over the geckins as best she could.

“This will be a breach of contract, under the ‘unreasonable’ clauses!” She announced, pointing down at the table and punctuating her words. Casper merely sat back and let her work. The geckin merely shrugged, unphased by the lopel’s display. 

“We would contest any claim, but we… being reasonable, are willing to offer an amendment to Casper’s contract.” The High Commander offered, leaning back and spreading her hands and arms out, as if a benevolent trader.

The room went still and the temperature dropped. 

“What kind?” Qik asked in a calm, steady voice. Too calm. Too steady. She was on edge.

“We will provide a mech of high quality, free of charge until the completion of the operation and contract.” The geckin offered calmly. Everyone waited for the other shoe to drop. 

“What for?” Casper asked. Qik glanced in his direction, but otherwise kept her eyes on the geckin, who was now pointedly ignoring the lopel.

“Hmmm, you’re certainly not a simple feral creature like some suggest. There will be a clause that is in our favour.” She admitted. 

“What is it?” He asked. The High Commander leaned back and glanced to her left, Casper and Qik’s right. To Wren. The biologist who had been caring for Casper since the beginning. She hadn’t done a great job, but the young man couldn’t fault her attempts to ensure he was okay.

Wren spoke calmly in a practised manner. She seemed to recite her words from memory, rather than form them on the fly.

“In the event of the need to eject the pilot casket, the operation is declared over and the loaned mech and all its contents and components are the property of the XixTech organisation.” The green geckin concluded before sitting back down and going silent. She too, adopted a haughty expression, lifting her muzzle slightly and staring Casper down somewhat. 

It honestly didn’t seem like much of an issue. It wasn’t his mech, he’d get his own rig later. Casper breathed in to dismiss and accept the terms, he had no want to take their property, but stopped when Qik’s hand grabbed his thigh. 

He glanced over to her as she spoke without breaking eye contact with the High Commander.

“All components?” The lopel demanded.

“Quite.” A nod. 

“No deal.”

Casper blinked, turning to Qik. 

“What? I can’t fight on foot! I need that rig.” He demanded, thinking about fighting tanks on foot with a single rifle! Qik or no, he’d more likely fall and blow his own head off than destroy a damned tank!

Qik’s expression when she turned to him gave him pause however. Without waiting, she spoke and explained in a slow, clam voice. Devoid of emotion. 

“Casper, the pilot in the casket, is included in this.” 

Wait.

“If you need to eject, then XixTech will, literally, own you.” Qik concluded. 

Wren cleared her through before speaking as everyone turned to her. 

“More specifically, as their representative; I will own you.”

Casper frowned, seeing the green doctor in a new light. 

“Why?” He asked, confused as to why she’d go this route. If she had asked for anything, he’d likely have just given it to her. She needn’t of gone this way. 

“Ignoring that I don’t need to answer that, we can learn more from you.” She began, coolly. “From your connection to the machine to how you handle the load. I hasten to add, it need not be a bad life, you could work *with* me in researching this.”

Casper said nothing, she continued.

“Or I could put your brain in a jar and ask you questions where you are devoid of distractions like light or sound. I would reward cooperation with stimulation. Otherwise it would be a perfect void for you.”

The green geckin shrugged. 

“Either way works for me.”

The lopel stood and swiped her hand through the air, dismissing the whole geckin side. 

“No deal. My company is on their way, they will have several things to say about this coercion.” She warned before turning and breathing in to speak with Casper, but was cut off by the High Commander.

“So be it, but you’re not being asked here.” The purple and black geckin turned to the human and pointedly asked; “Casper? Your choice. Freedom, with the chance of failure, or stay here as our permanent resident. We will offer you opportunities to pilot mechs, albeit under our direct control.”

The High Commander turned back to the lopal, although still spoke to Casper. 

“We have learnt from our mistakes with our dear Qik here.”

Qik raised her hand, her fingers splayed and brought her palm down in a vertical swipe, holding it in place as if to highlight her words. 

“Casper, don’t. There's another way.”

The young man doubted it. The geckins were too sure, the contracts seemed too tight. 

“Is there?” He asked. 

“The company has lawyers, these idiots aren’t the first to try and strong arm a deal.” She offered. The geckin High Commander retorted again, with an almost gleeful tone.

“No, but we are the first with a human. We checked, your laws are fantastically logical and detailed. It even lists the species… unfortunate ‘human’ is not included.” The finished with a sharp grin.

“They’ve got us cornered.” Casper pointed out.

“No, theres another way.” Qik said, her eyes almost frantic as she mentally searched for an out, finding none. 

“Qik.”

“No, just… give me a sec.”

“Qik do you trust in your training?” Casper asked quietly. 

“What?” The lopel asked, glancing up at him. He was still sat in his chair as she stood over him. Her fur was beautiful and shiny. He didn’t want to cause her distress, but there wasnt a way out here.

“Do you trust in what you’ve taught me? Could I survive in a fight?” He asked pointedly. 

Qik said nothing, searching his face for something. He smiled and shook his head.

“I’m not trying to trick you. Just honesty.” He pressed. 

She grimaced and wore a tight smile. 

“I’ve taught you all I can. Everything else comes from experience.” She explained, her shoulders sagging. 

“Like fighting technicals?” He suggested. Qik frowned, then turned to the gathered board of geckins. 

“If… Is it just technicals? By requirements, you need to tell me your intel now.”

One of the side geckins spoke, reviewing a datapad. 

“Only scuttle tanks and stationary emplacements. We need those emplacements destroyed, but we do offer bonuses for every additional unit destroyed. The bigger the better.” He offered. His lighter tone a stark difference to the hard tones of the others. 

“No enemy pilots?” Qik checked. 

“The ssypno are still scrambling after you took out the former ace.” The High Commander offered. Qik turned back to Casper and sighed. 

“I think… You got a good chance.”

Casper merely nodded then turned in his seat to directly address the High Commander.

“I’ll accept the contract if you give me a fighting chance. Give me a good mech and I’ll agree.”

“Deal.”

[r/WolvensStories]

[Ko-Fi]

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #human #hfy #haso #humans are space orcs #furry #human x furry #rabbit #lopeljack

[tparker48]

Lionfield looked through shorts on the media as their fans sent them videos of people eating food, known for their reactions as they both stared at the screen. The heinous were instantaneous, videos of italian cuisine succumbed to the carelessness of commoners. Have they no shame for showing their traditional dishes in such a way. It wouldn’t stand. The two fumed at the videos as their inbox continued to flow, folders leading to pizzas as others led to spaghetti. But an idea popped into their heads: if they want to besmirch italian foods with such humiliation, then why shouldn’t they do the same?

That following weekend, invitation were mailed out to all of people in the videos. The size wasn’t as much as the thousands of submissions, but they believed it was enough to get the point across. Picking them up from the airport, their escorts.brought their hometown to a house just a few blocks away from the city, the two waiting for them at the door with big smiles upon their faces. They guided them through the hallways, bringing them to the yoga room where they told them to wait.

"We'll fetch ya in a few, we just gotta get things ready" Matteo said, him and Emiliano entering another set of doors while the rest of their guests waited in the room.

They made their way through the corridors, entering a room where a screen window lead to the yoga room. Looks like they got quite the size for their game, they thought to themselves, Matteo flicking at a monitor as they pressed a button. The light in the yoga room flickered, confusion building among the crowd as they raced to the doors. The floor began to glow, illuminating the dark space before members began to vanish, turning into small dots along the yoga mats. When the glow vanished, the two entered back into the room and gazed at the floor. The people were now the size of a thumbtack, no more bigger than their toes as the two smirked at each other. Scooping them into sacks, the two carried them into a controlled vent along the wall, dumping them inside as they all fell into the basement.

**********************************************

The day was spent filling in the participants, sending them to their designated spots in the basement where cameras watched over them. They were to act like they were having normal lives, if they passed the weekend, they were allowed to return to civilization with their sizes intact. They were nothing if not fair for shrinking, it allowed them more time to enjoy the fun while the little guests scurried through the structures like ants. Italian food was the start of the issue, so not make things more tempting than for them to dine on it. Chef rush was already in town, he would be the perfect cook to set them astray.

And a valiant obstacle he was. By Saturday afternoon, several tinies failed the game, extracted from the basement and into their palms. They weren’t getting their sizes back, but there was something else they would receive, a good weekend trip to the very meatballs that swung between their legs, added with a dab of secret sauce for pleasure. They jammed them into their cocks, huffing as lumps slid through their organs to their low hangers below. To think shoving them inside would turn out to be so thrilling, their scrotums hopping around like jumping beans as they laughed and ate at their dismay. It was a blissful feeling, but it unfortunately fell limp as the tinies inside grew tired. Within those hours, their eyes glued to the screen, scanning for anymore that would crack.

"How many do we have now?" Matteo asked, flicking at the cameras to check in on them.

Emiliano sat along the sofa, his shaft in hand as he stroked against the girth of his flesh. He pinched at the piss slit, bringing a tiny action to the center as his head clamped over it. "About twenty last I checked."

"Nah, you would think they'd be panicking by now, but not a single one has broken the Italian code since this morning."

Emiliano stalked the stiff legs like a shark in water, stomping onto their behind with a flick of his tip as it bobbed inside. He fondled his balls, his testicles plonking over one another as muffled yells came from them. He sighed lightly, flexing as seed coated the action figure.

They pouted, glaring at his own sack that laid still. “Come on you bunch’a peas, wiggle for papa Matteo."

"It's not their fault you tired them out. Shaking your balls like a bag of fish.." Emiliano said, swirling his swollen testicle.. "You should’ve taken it nice and slow. Like fresh pasta."

"Don't remind me, I swear if I see another grape pasta i'm gonna..oop,"

He zoomed into the camera in section one of the basement, a dining room table set just along the miniature boxes where tinies scattered around the tables. Amongst the line, A female caught his eye, standing near the pastas as she scooped the noodles onto her plate, but didn't put any sauce as she returned to her table. Matteo's finger fiddled at the handle on the monitor, a tube floating over the tiny household like a saucer as it floated toward the tiny. The small female was yanked from the group, pulled through the gray funnel before landing in his waiting palm.

"Pasta without sauce, what are ya basic?" He said. The tiny pounded at his fist, prying at his thumb that pinned her down. He placed a palm at their cheek, listening to their wails. "What a horrible way to use that siren voice of yours."

He flipped them to the bottom of his palm, jamming them into his urethra with a sickening squelch. Muffles vibrated hid cockhead, gumming its way to her shoulders as they slipped to her elbow. He flexed the slit around her ankles, leaving nothing behind while a bulge formed beneath its underbelly. Swallowing its meal, the orifice sucked air to aid in their prey's descent, his left nut swelling in his pants to accomodate for the added load.

"That's what I'm talking about." Matteo said, rubbing along his skinny jeans. Watery screams reached his ears, startling for a moment before he scooped them into his crotch. It didn't last long, before a flex hushed them, their prison tossed around while he spun against their chair.

"Glad to see your having fun now." Emiliano said.

"Oh I'm just getting started, let's see if we can catch some more."

The two of them scrolled through the cameras to the cardboard houses below, the digital feedback flashing with each click as they surveyed the room. They caught 10 in those splitting moments, insulting an Italian styled pizza with pineapples on top. They couldn't stomach such a sully of tradition, slamming upon the button as the tubes scooped every one of them. But they supposed they should thank them for their misdeeds, they were going to make their balls juicy and fat. By the evening, they both had a hefty catch. Emiliano resting along the sofa, a leg over the edge to let their balls sag into the gaps of the couch. Matteo sat along the computer chair, their skinny jeans stripped to spread their own legs, their balls sagging over the edge like a pendulum.

"And that's 18, 18 I've stashed in there.." Matteo said. He fondled at the swollen nuts between his legs, hand and footprints bulging beneath the soft skin for freedom. "How many do we got in there now."

"5, they're all huddling together inside a box." Emiliano said. "Should we move them?"

"Nah, let them be for now, my nuts are as full as it is. Mmm, all their squirmers are getting me riled up." He messaged at his balls like a sponge full of water, squishing against the tender testicles to tease the unfortunate tinies inside. Their faint screams were decent, but dull as they absorbed into his clammed skin. Though he supposed it was for the best.

He grabbed a tube from the corner table, shoving his cock inside while he turned it on. Wet suctions filled the corner of the room, the tube milking his cock as if it were an utter to retrieve the seed inside. His balls lifted towards his crotch, lumps traveling up the lengths of his scrotum before they dragged through his thin shaft. Extracted, seed spilled into a plastic bag along a crease in a wall, tinies squeezing milky pools inside before a zip tie sealed it. Matteo Smiled,holding one of the bags in his palm.

"Pfft, it's like holding a goldfish" He said, see-sawing the bag with his wrist as tides dragged the unfortunate littles around the plastic space. It was a sight to behold as they spun around the bag. He'd fill it with more just to entertain himself, but he didn't want to risk their return home to come with lawsuits. At least not from the country of course.

More tinies filled the bags, deposited into a tray that stacked them on top of each other. Looking at the one in hand, Matteo winked before tossing them into the pile, a trolly pulling from the wall as the tinies disappeared behind it. He slumped into his chair moaning as the tube around him plucked more from his balls.

"Why do they always feel so.good when I send them inside, but sour when I have to let them out?" He said.

"Sounds like you're getting attached to the tinies."

"Them? Nahh, I'd say it's the concept that really gets me going, like a good egg "

Emiliano snorted, "You mean meatballs."

"Not just any meatballs, spicy hot meatballs." He Cupped his balls in one hand.

The last of the tinies were extracted, pulled to the final bag as it wrapped its lining along it. They pulled the dripping tube off their shafts, tossing it to the floor before they stood to the window. "On one thing, I sympathize with what you're saying, it does feel hard when it comes to letting them go. Like a part of yourself leaving.

"True, though I suppose it has its merits, makes for a good jerk off session."

A bell rung from the alarm in the room, the two looking to the cameras where activity began to rise. The cardboard boxes lifted from along the walls, revealing the remaining tinies that huddled together. Amongst their confusing stares, the floor began to glow, filling the room as a pulse ran through the lining of the mats. With each beat, an inch of their size was returned, restoring them to their full height as they stood bare. They began to cheer, Matteo and Emiliano looking into the window as the participants celebrated.

"Huh, they survived the weekend." Matteo said.

"Bummer, I was looking forward to more. I suppose we should reward them for enduring." Emiliano hit a button along the door, a a padded lock opening as it presented to the people in the room. They grabbed their clothes, scampering out the door where a Microphone hovered in the next room.

"Congratulations you lucky few that survived, you get your size back and a VIP ride home back to your countries."

The participants looked at each other, grabbing brochures as they scurried to the vans awaiting for them.

"Say, now that I think about it, shouldn't we get the shrunkees a prize too? Like a loser's compensation?"

"You got a point there. Hmm, give them a cook book, perhaps then they'll learn to appreciate the cuisine of italian food."

#cock vore #shrink

[yandere-daydreams]

You've met the Raiden Shogun three times.

The first was, admittedly, due to your own desperation. You'd been so young, only a few decades into your never-ending life, and you'd been so confused, so angry, so quick to lash out - whether or not your temper was founded. At the time, you'd taken up residence in the forests of Narukami Island, where you were content to spend your days leading travelers astray, robbing them blind, and leaving them to find their way to the nearest village without the assistance of their worldly possessions. She'd simply been passing through the area, and yet, you managed to find your way to her side, regardless.

You'd been trailing after her guards, waiting for an opportunity to strike. In hindsight, you'd been a fool to think you could escape the notice of a goddess, but she'd been so kind, willing to lure you out with promises of tea and tri-colored dango, to simply laugh as you growled and snapped at her soldiers. She told you of her sister, of her familiar - another kitsune, she'd said, not unlike yourself. She'd hummed as she combed through your wild hair, recited ear-bleeding poetry as she scrubbed the dirt from your face, and made you promise to visit her in Inazuma City.

When it came time for her to travel further than you could follow, she kissed your forehead, thanked you for your time, and left you on your own.

The second was a matter of coincidence, or more romantically, fate. There'd been on one of the western islands - a sudden wave of unusually aggressive monsters. You went to witness the carnage for yourself, and when the worst of it was over, you found the Shogun by an idle stream, washing the blood off of her polearm and tending to a small wound on her side. She seemed wary of you, worn down by pain and exhausted from a battle hard-won, but you introduced yourself, reminded her of your last encounter, and she warmed to you quickly.

She seemed different in a way you couldn't name, her eyes more solemn and her voice as cold as stone, but she welcomed you as an old friend would, allowing you to tend to her injury, listening silently as you told her about the life you've led since you last crossed paths. You asked about her familiar, and the Shogun had informed you that she'd been doing well. You asked after her sister, and she told you that there had been an incident. She didn't speak of much that concerned herself, otherwise.

When it came time for you to part ways, she kissed the corner of your lips, thanked you for your service, and left you on your own.

The third and final time you met, it was at no one's will other than her own.

Her soldiers came for you in the night, tearing you away from the shrine where you'd taken up residence and 'escorting' you back to her city, her estate. You were given clothes more formal than anything you'd ever worn before, told to mind your claws and keep your fangs behind your lips. You were brought to your knees in her reception chamber, forced to kneel before the Shogun in all of her supreme glory. Yet again, she seemed different. To say she was cold would've done her a disservice, and to say she was warm would've been a lie more disingenuous than any you ever told.

To be honest, she didn't seem like anything at all.

"My predecessors were quite taken with you. Although I can't say I see exactly why," She muttered, taking you by the chin. She evaluated your form, your expression, her gaze indifferent and sterile, as if she didn't recognize you. As if this was the first time she'd ever spoken to you. "I suppose I'll have to keep you here, in my city, until I can decipher why they held such a fondness for you."

When she finished, she did not kiss you, but you knew that you would never stray from her side again.

#woman loving wednesday #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere prompts #yandere drabble #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #yandere raiden shogun #raiden shogun x reader #yandere ei x reader #yandere ei #ei x reader #yanderecore #yancore

[meadowlarksabove]

Gabban didn't call ahead, but he'd like to book an appointment. @aamusedly

The subway lights flickered at times, and in those brief moments he saw the people around him as disordered shapes in the fabulous darkness, minds compacted into a single space, just as his life had been before the summoning. The hot, bewildering crowds of this city, both above and below the earth, were the closest thing to home he could hope to experience. Though his “followers” wished to bring the unity of the Flesh into the mortal realm, and promised his return to the collective, he could scarcely believe them capable of either of those things. Not when they were all sealed into these blood mounds, separated from each other as individuals. 

Besides, the horror and loneliness of being birthed had irrevocably changed him. How could something that couldn’t and shouldn’t have existed return to a place that couldn’t, shouldn’t have been opened? Was he even the same thing he’d been before? Gabban looked around himself, perhaps that was the reason he’d left his entourage five stops back. While he mostly enjoyed their company, a handful of people at his beck and call wasn’t enough to fill the gurgling void between his teeth. He needed to see the masses and have a taste of what he missed! 

They told him, often, that it wasn’t safe for him to be alone among the humans. His strangeness was infectious, and too apparent for comfort. Though he clearly knew how to appear human, it wasn’t nearly enough to make up for his behavior. 

But what would they know of safety? None of them had yet to notice the stalker in their midst, or the fact they had been followed all throughout the day. Their senses were nothing compared to his, yet they pretended to be his guardians all the same. 

Gabban felt the tongues inside his midsection wriggle, they were nearing the end of the line and there weren’t as many humans as when he had escaped his party. It would have been right to catch the opposite train and apologize on his return. They must have been so angry at him by now. So he stood up at the last stop and got onto the platform, knowing that all the while he was being watched by someone. He wasn’t sure if to fear this person, or what fearing them actually entailed, so used to being the consumer and never the consumed. It wasn’t in his nature to feel or think like prey. 

But weren’t his human guardians as close to prey as anything else in this weak and frivolous dimension? If he led a hunter back to their den of soft bodied mortals, what would happen exactly?

The lights of the next train rounded the corner of the tunnel, and though Gabban meant to get on it, he felt the urge to step back instead. A few steps then turned into a full walk towards the exit, until he’d altogether changed his plans on a whim. Perhaps having felt protectiveness for the very first time. 

Quickly, he rummaged through his pockets for change and made straight for the surface. If he knew this city the way he’d known every single cell of the Flesh, he could have easily disappeared out of sight or led the thing astray. But the deeper he ventured through the older part of town, the more Gabban felt he was falling in with something much greater. He couldn’t shake off the feeling that he was about to be greeted somehow, and that he in turn would say hello with a splendid smile.

#.ic #.gabban #aamusedly #.god of a thousand mouths ( monster au )