#(tagging all characters for possible future reference)

[sara-ide]

Arthuriana And Card Games: Yu-Gi-Oh!

Okay this is so niche but as someone who both loves Arthuriana and was into Yu-Gi-Oh, the Noble Knight archetype is something that I've had on my radar for a while. I'm underwhelmed by it because Arthurian lore is so vast and the potential for adaptation into a card game is HUGE but I don't feel super strongly about the archetype otherwise. So just for fun, I wanted to share what I thought were some Unique decisions made in regards to both the archetype itself and its lore.

Notable ones include:

1: Mixing Arthurian characters actual Welsh names with its own alternative spellings (Medraut and Peredur vs Eachtar and Iyvanne)

2: Gawain and Mordred getting their own cards but lumping Gaheris, Agravaine and Gareth into one

3: Also having Lancelot, Hector de Maris and Bors get cards but NOT Lionel

4: Not to mention Bedwyr but no Cei

5: Lancelot becoming a villain and killing Arthur because (checks notes) his sword got infected with Mordred's blood and it corrupted him?

6: Lancelot being the one to kill Mordred (Hence corruption via blood)

7: Lancelot having Excalibur in "Ignoble Knight of High Laundsallyn"

These are the ones that stick out to me personally but there might be more I glanced over.

[ao3org]

Changes to Character Tags in Video Blogging RPF: Usernames Incoming!

Hello! In the near future, the Video Blogging RPF wrangling team will change the way we format character tags. We’re happy to announce that all canonical character tags will include content creators’ usernames by default, similar to what has been done for character tags in SMP fandoms for some time.

For example, the following tags will be updated:

Sean McLoughlin will be renamed to Sean McLoughlin | Jacksepticeye

Jeremy Harrington will be renamed to Jeremy | Jerma985

Rachell "Rae" Hofstetter will be renamed to Rachell "Rae" Hofstetter | Valkyrae

Apollo Willems will be renamed to Apollo Willems | DumbDog

These changes are already underway for smaller-use character tags, and we ask for your patience as we roll out changes across all relevant Video Blogging RPF character tags. We hope this change makes it easier for you to find and tag your works. We’ve included more granular details below for anyone curious about the specifics :)

Why are you making this change?

As we’re an RPF subfandom, we adhere to standard policy for RPF tag formatting, which means including a legal name where appropriate. We source legal names from web pages that are publicly accessible at the time of canonization, which creators would have endorsed themselves (such as their social media or interview articles). However, when character tags only contain a legal name, they’re often unrecognizable for both users and wranglers. 

If a content creator primarily promotes themselves under a username, many users likely won’t know who the canonical character tag is referring to. Similarly, tag wranglers have struggled with accidentally duplicating character tags: we have trouble finding the canonical tags too!

To improve things for everyone, we’re changing our canonical tags to include usernames alongside legal names where appropriate. This ensures we’re compatible with other RPF fandoms—which we often have overlap with—while keeping tags usable and recognizable. 

Will this affect anyone whose character tag is only a username? Will you add legal names to tags that don’t have them already? 

We don’t plan to edit any existing canonical character tags that only contain a username. For example, TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF) will remain canonical, even though the creator has since also made content under the legal name Tom Simons. 

In rare cases, a username may be ambiguous within Video Blogging RPF, and we will add another name or more information to a character tag to differentiate it. However, this is generally quite rare. When we conducted our audit of all character tags in Video Blogging RPF, the vast majority of username-only tags did not require additional disambiguation and will not be changed. 

In other cases, such as a content creator not wanting to be associated with a username anymore, we will remove the relevant information from the tag and replace it with a more appropriate name. This is similar to how we handle content creators who do not go by old legal names anymore. If a content creator changes their name—legal name or username—and does not want to be associated with their old name, we have and always will update the character tag as appropriate. 

What if a legal name on a character tag is incorrect? Will you be fixing those?

During our audit, we also ran into a few cases where a character tag’s legal name is incorrect, outdated, or there are conflicting sources. We will be updating such tags with more up-to-date information as we come across them or will remove names from a tag entirely if there are conflicting sources. For example, as mentioned above, Jeremy Harrington will be renamed to Jeremy | Jerma985 due to conflicting unofficial sources regarding the creator's legal last name. 

We want to thank our volunteers for their hard work, both for evaluating the 6000+ character tags in Video Blogging RPF and for preparing to rename all relevant tags as quickly and smoothly as possible. Given the large number of tags that will be changed, these changes will take some time to complete. We ask for your patience as we work to rename all relevant tags. If you have any follow-up questions, or concerns about specific tags, you can always contact AO3 Support.

(From time to time, ao3org posts announcements of recent or upcoming wrangling changes on behalf of the Tag Wrangling Committee.)

[sha-biest]

SHA's Golden Future DTIYS [Art & Writing]

Close ups of Mikey

About 10 days ago I had the idea to host a DTIYS and even though I told myself it wouldn't happen anytime soon.. the idea struck and it wouldn't let me go. SO, here it is! One thing before everything else:

1st place: One handmade custom plushie made by me

More information about this DTIYS down below

I am aware that this is a rather challenging DTIYS but it was done so intentionally by me. (Trust me, I tortured myself too 🙃) HOWEVER. you are allowed to chose to draw only one segment of the whole piece and not every single one! You will however get more points for including all 3 parts of it. I will judge the pieces based on: • How many segments of the whole piece were drawn • Creativity (in what way was it changed from the original to emphasize your own style for example) • Colors (did you chose to use colors or is it black and white?) • Hands. I do accept written entries for this as well! I love reading and I don't want to exclude writers for this one should they decide they want to tackle this! You are allowed to use my art up top of the DTIYS to promote your writing!

If you want to participate be sure to @sha-biest and use the tag #GoldenFutureDTIYS Additionaly, let me know what YOU would like to get as a plushie! (don't worry, you don't have to stick to that decision should it change over the course of the DTIYS)

Deadline: 10th March 2025 1st June 2025

More Info: • #GoldenFutureAU art tag • Written Story by Co-Creator @rosesofenvy (More about Mikey's mindscape and him unlocking his full mystic powers can be read in "Keep You Safe" especially within Chapter 4 and Chapter 8) • The Sun God's appearance here and here References:

Mikey's mindscape in Golden Future:

In the beginning he thought it was black water but it's actually black sand

He can dive into the sand and uncover "treasures" (parts of his mystic energy)

Diving down means no vision, sound or air gets through to him

He can uncover the mystic powers by pulling them up with his chains

Uncovering a "treasure" will turn that part of the desert golden

Disclaimer: • The plushie that can be won cannot be used to be reproduced and/or sold • The size of the plushie depends on the character chosen by the winner and by the package size I can send • I am by no means a professional plush maker so I do have the right to decline a character should I not be able to turn it into a plushie • Changes might need to be made to the chosen character for the plushie for more complicated details (I will provide sketches of possible versions) • Minors are permitted to participate, but only with the express permission of a guardian and limited correspondence if they win • You can chose to get a full illustration piece instead of a plushie should you win! (if you are too uncomfortable sharing your adress for example)

Plushie examples:

Questions can be send in via my ask box! I will try to compile them in here or give them a dtiyas specific tag! I'm curious what you guys come up with and most of all.. have fun! :D

PS: I will consider doing two first places (one for writing and one for art) depending on how many entries there are

[liquidcrystalsky]

New update replaced player names in X-battles with callsigns based on the gear you're wearing.

There's a lot of coroika names in here, such as Goggles (the first one in the list which isnt a hairstyle or just a letter, which makes me think this is definitely a coroika reference), Bobble Hat, Headphones, Specs, Gloves, Braid, Mask, Skull, OctoPhones (sorry the official translation came out he's not Ocho anymore), Aloha, like a lot of the characters are here too.

Since these are like Exactly the coroika names, and it's based on your gear, that means your X-Battle username is your official coroika-sona name (it changes ur name around a bit depending on if there's others in the lobby with the same gear but whatever)

All possible names are below the cut, tag urself

Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Echo, Foxtrot, Golf, Hotel, Hippie, Short Trim, Double-Bun, Wave, Pigtail, Banger, Topknot, Slick, Buzz-Cut, Hipster, Spike Hair, Bowl Cut, Braid, Bed Head, Wet Hair, Cornrows, Tentacurl, Pony, Punk, Afro, Tentatwists, Fade, Octolocks, Surfcurl, Goggles, Hivemind, Lionfish, Retro, MTB, Beekeeper, Sleeper, QB, Blue Collar, Arrowbands, Uncanny, Squinja, Squidvader, Hockey, Boater, Bream, Silence, Tinted, 3D, OctoPhones, Gills, Octoglass, Sneaky, Dapper, Coral, Bleak, Horns, Commander, Catcher, Capped, Plankton, Camper, Fierce Fishskull, Kyonshi, Teddy, Jellyvader, Glam, Invisifloats, Understitch, Flounder, Crown, Captain, Cycle, Biker, Sauna, Soccer, Jungle, Samurai, Monkey Crab, Sunshield, Stripe Helm, Octavio, Swimmer, Skull, Skier, Charms, Bamboo, Reaper, Beachcomber, Cartoon, Flap Cap, Half-Rimz, Towel, Sinker, Dustblocker, Double Egg, Aviators, ZedFry, Tulip, Eel, Denim, Jeans, Ink-Tinted, Howdy, Hunter, Squidbeak, Bobble Hat, Party, Pinhole, Jetflame, Moto, Visor, Pie Hat, Pilot, Bucket, Cowfish, Combo, Band, Patched, Bandana, Newsie, Beanie, Wharfside, Snaxolotl, Safari, Paintball Mask, Flip Cap, Strainer, Painter, Headgear, Headband, Headphones, Bell Hat, Helmet, Beret, Bowler, Party Hard Hat, Goalie, Welder, Mask, Masque, Undead, Sailor, Circle, Full Moon, Foresight, Specs, Mesh Cap, Motocross, Mountie, Anglerfish, Knitted, Wrestler, Worker, Glassless, Inspector, Fox, Headlamp, Triple-Deck Specs, BluFocals, Bisk, Stealth, Heads-Up, Do-Rag, Boss, Justice, Jacket, Tee, Army, Aloha, Life Vest, Vintage, Western, Wrap, Order, Cardigan, Checkers, Black Belt, Gloves, Kung-Fu, Researcher, Coat, Peacoat, Tandem, Cyclist, Mesh, Jersey, Brinestone, Sweats, Satinjack, Inkfall, Darksplash, Splashy, Inkwash, Sweater, Varsity, Tuff, Tank, Choker, Necktie, Lumberjack, Sweatshirt, Haori, B-ball, Parashooter, Parka, Schoolie, Bracelet, Shell, Vest, Eminence, Stripes, Buttons, Polo, Anorak, Rugby, Baseball, Wristbands, Layers, Longsleeves, Workwear, Uniform, Rider, Shred, Band Tee, Splatfest, Tie Dye, Octojacket, Fleece, Bolero, Tenure, Mountain, SplatJack, High-Tech, Future, Sudadera , Trooper Top, Shoreliner, Hacker, Jeanjack, Dress Code, Scrap Jack, Frye Fan, Marina Fan, Wizard, Judd, Octoleet, Knight, Chaos, Power, Hero, Pearl Fan, Fresh Fish, Shiver Fan, Slugger, Big Man Fan, Crusty Sean, Now or Never Seven

[sundaysconsort]

Mydei fluff please! 🤭🫶 (Anything works for me!)

Entry: " Face To Face With Mortality "

Pairing: HSR! Mydei | Reader

Information: In a moment of quiet intimacy, a warm and inviting character reaches out to a guarded warrior, sharing insights about love and self-acceptance. Despite Mydei's tough exterior and defensiveness, the warmth of your connection begins to break down his walls. You express a desire to be someone who stands by him, challenging him to rethink his beliefs about partnerships and connection. | 1.8k Word Count

Tags: Slow Burn, Romantic Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy(?) Ending, Forbidden Love (?), Power Struggles, Soulmates, Dark Themes, Deep Conversations, Confessions, Tender Moments, Heavy Themes of Loss & Hope, Fighting Against Fate, Fluff.

Warnings: Mentions of Death & Reincarnation, Existential Themes, Discussions of Emotional Trauma, Heavy Angst, Implied Violence, References to a Cursed Fate, Emotional Vulnerability, Brief Touch of Self-Doubt, Intense Romantic Moments, Possible Future Loss.

"I believe you'll experience it someday!" Mydei hears you beam, your voice warm and inviting—a gentle melody that seemed to cut through the stillness that often surrounded him during his brief moments of peace. A sweet smile graced your lips as you confidently reached out to take his hands in yours, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. The unexpected softness of your touch was a stark contrast to the tension that usually enveloped his life, offering a whisper of comfort that dared to breach his guarded heart. Despite his intimidating exterior—his chiseled jaw and stormy, piercing eyes that sent most people scurrying away—you approached him without a hint of hesitation.

"What do you mean?" he asked, furrowing his brow slightly as he studied you with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. His voice was gruff, deep, and resonant, like distant thunder rumbling across a darkened sky, creating an atmosphere heavy with uncertainty.

"Pfft, love, idiot-" you chimed, your infectious light radiating around him like a gentle sunbeam breaking through the clouds, illuminating the shadows that often clouded his world. You could see the flicker of intrigue in his eyes, a spark that hinted at a battle waging within. Seemingly unbothered by the use of 'idiot" as if it were a term of endearment coming from you.

"Well, what if I don't want a partner?" he countered, a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone, as if your words threatened the carefully constructed walls he had built around himself.

"Who said anything about a partner?" you replied, momentarily caught off guard by his bluntness. The surprise quickly faded, and you regained your composure with the grace of a dancer stepping back into rhythm after a brief misstep. "Love comes in all different shapes, sizes, and forms, Mydei. It's not just about romance."

With deliberate tenderness, you leaned forward, easing your way closer to him, which he allowed. You lifted a knee to settle into his lap, a bold move that invited intimacy while cozying into the strong, protective confines of his throne-like seat. The warmth of your body against his seemed to dissolve the barriers he had erected around himself, inviting a sense of safety that he rarely experienced.

"Self-love is one of them," you added softly, your voice sincere and earnest, resonating with the depth of your understanding.

As you wrapped your arms around him, letting go of his hands, you felt him relax into your embrace. The contact melted the tension between you, creating a pocket of comfort that felt cocooned from the outside world. "It’s tough to achieve, that’s for certain," you continued, your gaze unwavering as you locked eyes with him, searching for understanding within those tempestuous depths. "But… it’s really nice to have once you do, don’t you think?" You held your breath, hoping to draw him into a moment of clarity amidst the chaos that often surrounded him.

“Hah. I can’t say I know what that’s like,” he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. “I haven’t had the luxury of such a commitment. The very idea of devoting myself to someone feels like a distant dream to me, far too risky given the inherent dangers that come with my position.”

Your curiosity is piqued as you tilt your head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of what lies beneath his guarded exterior. “So it’s something you’ve thought of before?” you ask, your voice soft yet probing. His gaze shifts momentarily, suggesting a swirl of emotions beneath the surface.

“Occasionally,” he admits, looking down as if the ground might offer him refuge from his own vulnerability. “But it’s not like I can afford to let anyone in. This destiny… it’s complicated. Anyone I care about could be in danger because of me.”

You can’t help but sense the weight of his unspoken fears. “You’re not alone in this, you know,” you say gently. “You don’t always have to carry that burden by yourself.”

He meets your eyes, and for a fleeting moment, his guard lowers. “It’s hard to let go,” he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper while maintaining it's usual gruff edge. “I want to believe that someone could stand by me, but…” He trails off, the unsaid hanging in the air between you.

Your gaze shifts, drawn to the intricate red markings that snake across his chest. They’re like a canvas of stories untold, a work of art against the backdrop of his muscular physique. You gently trace your finger along one of the markings, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. “But what if I wanted to be that someone?” you suggest, your heart racing as you share your own silent desire.

He halts mid-sentence, his brow furrowing in both confusion and intrigue as a flicker of surprise illuminates his features. The unexpected weight of your words settles heavily in the air between you, creating a palpable tension that seems to slow time itself for an instant. “And if you already are that person?” he asks. Mydei's question lingers, expecting an answer yet remaining patient with you, determination etching itself into his expression as he prepares to delve deeper into the conversation.

In that moment, as your fingertips gently brush against the artful contours of his skin, a charged silence envelops you both. The air thrums with unspoken possibilities, thrilling yet laced with an undercurrent of fear, undeniably tangible. A man ensnared by the curse of eternal returns, each death a brutal reminder of the fragility of life. The thought weighs heavily on him; how could he endure the anguish of your inevitable departure?

You take a breath, gathering your thoughts before responding, “Maybe that's the question I've been avoiding, Mydei. What if I am? What if every word we share, every moment becomes a part of a cycle we can't break? It terrifies me just as much as it intrigues me.” Your voice is steady but vulnerable, and you lock eyes with him, the depth of your feelings reflecting in your gaze, expressing more than your usual positive outlook, expressing your own concerns. “But perhaps it's also a chance—to embrace the fleeting moments we have, no matter how they might end. I'd rather face the uncertainty together than live in fear of what comes next.”

His own death holds no terror for him; he has long accepted the inevitability of his fate. Yet, when it comes to your mortality, a chill runs through him. As you glance up, he meets your gaze, and the world around you seems to fade. “You know,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, voice low enoughf or only your ears to be blessed, “every moment with you feels like a precious thread woven into the fabric of my endless existence.”

"You'd make a great poet, Mydeimos," you teased, a playful smile tugging at your lips. He shot you a hardened glare at first, but as the seconds passed, the sharpness in his expression softened. A hint of a smile crept onto his face as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer and settling you comfortably in his lap. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, making the teasing feel like a shared secret between the two of you. The moment stretched, filled with unspoken words and a sense of intimacy that deepened the playful banter.

“What happens when that delicate thread, so finely woven into the fabric of our lives, breaks?” The question lingers in the air between you, thick with tension and weighty with meaning, as if it holds the power to unravel everything you thought was secure.

With a glint in his eyes, he leans in slightly, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I suggest we change the word 'when' to 'if,'" he proposes, his breath brushing against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. The suggestion hangs in the air, filled with unspoken possibilities, as the tension deepens, inviting you to explore the unknowns that lie ahead.

His golden, piercing eyes lock onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race and your breath hitch. You can feel the weight of his gaze, filled with both longing, an alluring fire. “You make this life—my life—worth enduring,” he whispers, his voice low and husky, each word dripping with fierce conviction. There’s an urgency in his tone, leaving no room for argument, as if he knows the stakes of this moment.

He pauses for a heartbeat, the world around you fading into a blur as he leans closer, revealing the depth of his determination. “I’ll find a way to bring an end to the gods, to the chains that bind us,” he vows, his resolve evident in the fierce glint of his eyes. As the promise suspended between them, you took a deep breath, your heart racing. "Do you really believe you can achieve that? To become something more, for us?" Your voice trembled with a mix of hope and uncertainty.

He locked his gaze with yours, determination blazing in his eyes. "I have to believe it. For you. For our existence, and all those we hold dear. Without that promise, what kind of future would we have? I won’t settle for anything less."

The air around them crackled with tension. You could feel the heat radiating from him, pulling you in like a moth to a flame. “And if you transform into something… different? What if you lose yourself?”

Unwrapping a single arm from your waist, you feel the warmth of his hand as it gently cups your cheek. The skin is rough and calloused, a testament to the hard work he's known throughout his life. “I won’t. I’ll never lose you, not now, not ever,” he promises, his gaze steady and intense, filled with determination. Using his other arm to draw you closer, you feel the solidity of his biceps pressing against your body, a protective embrace that envelops you in his strength.

Time seemed to stand still as he leaned in closer, breaths mingling, anticipation thickening the air. “All I want is you,” he whispered just before closing the distance.

Your lips met in a restless kiss, igniting a fire deep within you both, a blaze that seemed to consume the very air around you. This was no ordinary kiss; it resonated with promises whispered in the softest of tones, dreams painted in vibrant colors, and the undeniable urgency of a love that pushed against the confines of your reality. As you melted into him, the world around you dissolved into a hazy blur, each heartbeat echoing the intensity of the moment. Time itself seemed to pause, allowing you to savor the depth of your connection, the way his hand cradled your face, and how his breath mingled with yours in a rhythm that felt both exhilarating and comforting. In that fleeting yet eternal instant, you were both willing to fight against any force that threatened your bond, believing wholeheartedly in his every word and the future that lay ahead, a future you were determined to build together, no matter the obstacles in your path.

A/N: First time writing our dear Mydeimos! I hope I did well, and though it's got my usual twist, I hope it's fluffy enough for you!

[wojakgallery]

Highly esoteric wojak image with TL;DR interpretation by WojakGallery:

Title/Name: The Crowning of Chudjak Wojak Series:  Chudjak / Poljak (Variants), Soyjak (Variants). Image by: Unknown Main Tag: Chudjak Wojak

Information and interpretation on the image (TL;DR):

Unfortunately, I could not actually find out much about this one, so some "light assumptions" will be made based on what we get from the image + my research and knowledge. I did a reverse image search using Google and TinEye, but according to the research I did, this one hasn't been posted anywhere that can be easily found with its original title/name and description, so I gave it the name "The Crowning of Chudjak" because it makes it clearer. You can call it whatever you like, though.

The following I will say here are just a few observations I've made on the image. Obviously, Chudjak is being crowned King.

But maybe something not so obvious is that he's being "crowned" with a crown from Burger King (fast-food restaurant franchise). I didn't find any information on why Chudjak is being crowned to wear a Burger King crown, so that's somewhat esoteric; maybe it's just for a comical effect, or to imply in some way that he "rules". In the image, it's two chudjaks crowning another chudjak, so he's basically crowning himself.

Another thing in the image is that there are Soyjaks present, some have wings like angels, which is something common in 14th-century classical Renaissance art, that is the general theme of the image, with all the clouds and people or gods in "heaven" or the sky. And Soyjaks are often considered by many users as "the greatest" variants since the inception of Wojak. In the image, you can see that there are soyjaks that appear to be somewhat distressed, and this is probably because some of them were placed below the chudjaks in the image. This may be to imply that chudjaks are superior to soyjaks, or that, in comparison to soyjaks, chudjaks are on a higher level of "Wojak Greatness." There are dark clouds in the image that may imply that a storm is coming. It's trivial, but both soyjaks and chudjaks are often depicted as the most popular wojak characters that wear glasses.

Also in the image, there is a wild naked soyjak trying to "lift" the chudjaks, this could possibly be a reference to 'Atlas', a Greek mythology Titan condemned to hold up the heavens or sky for eternity after the Titanomachy. In art, Atlas is often depicted naked.

And not easily noted and can be easily missed in the chudjak at the left part of the image that is wearing a red robe or mantle, it's possible to see the partially covered words "Mein Ka", which seems to be a reference to the book 'Mein Kampf' which is german for "My Struggle" which is a autobiographical manifesto by Nazi Party leader Adolf Hitler. The book outlines many of Hitler's political beliefs, his political ideology, and future plans for Germany and the world. The original nazi flag has a background of the color red, so it makes sense that the robe or mantle is red covering what looks like the book standing.

And last but not least, there is an anthropomorphic-looking soyjak dog on the right part of the image; it seems the dog is being caressed by the chudjak above him, or he's being held against the chudjak's leg (maybe in a forced manner); the dog's face seems somewhat confused, but this is unclear. The soyjak dog is wearing a collar or necklace with a pink tag or object. I didn't find any info on this type of collar or necklace. Anyway, the color pink may represent a number of things, including compassion, purity, and hope. It's usually known that a pink dog collar generally symbolizes sweetness, gentleness, and femininity. But maybe it's just a random collar or necklace with the color pink and no esoteric meaning involved.

The end.

Update: Tumblr user aeshna-cyanea pointed out that the original painting this wojak image is based on is titled "Coronation of the Virgin" by Diego Velázquez. Diego Velázquez, though a Baroque artist of the Spanish Golden Age, did draw inspiration from Renaissance art and incorporated elements of it into his work.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, reference to suicide and Lloyd being offensive, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: Thanks for all your patience.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Migraines always leave you a bit foggy. Like a hangover, or even a concussion. You power through the airport, waiting in line with your mustachioed curse. Lloyd taps his toe incessantly, adding to the plethora of overstimulation all around you. This isn’t how you envisioned your holidays.  

It’s the 26th and you’re supposed to be on your way home, not catching the flight you booked for two days before. And alone. You’re supposed to be alone. 

You take your boarding pass and leave Lloyd’s for him to grab himself. He huffs and follows after you. He’s like a big dumb dog sometimes. It’s amazing that the realization only comes over you then. It’s pretty obvious when he’s not behind a desk growling like some mafioso. He’s no kingpin, he’s a clown. 

You drop into a seat, your carry-on beside you, and he claims the seat to your left. He’s on the edge, jiggling his leg. You could thank him for upgrading you both to first class but he’s the reason you’re even there. It’s the least he could do. 

You cross your arms and stare through the haze. The first-class lounge is quiet and softly lit. Isolated but for the pest next to you. He continues to fidget. Is he nervous? You didn’t think that was possible since he seems to lack any degree of self-awareness. 

“So, gimme the down low. You got a mom? Girl like you screams daddy issues. Is he still around?” 

You sigh. “Sure is.” 

“Wow, okay. Good guy? Strict? Shit, knowing you, he must be a hard ass,” he scoffs. “Should I put on my best behaviour? Should I have worn a tie, Pixie pie?” He tugs at the collar of his turtleneck. 

“What you can do is hush,” you retort. “Jesus, I’m tryna get my head together.” 

“Last night was wild,” he agrees, though it’s not the point you were making, nor a statement of fact. “We were so close, Pix. You shoulda just laid back and let the magic hands do their tricks. Promise,” he smooths his mustache, “this isn’t just for show. I’ve been told it adds a lot of sensation--” 

“Ew. Would you—if you even say any of that in front of my family--” 

“You gonna spank me?” He asks brightly and sits back, slinging an arm over the back of your chair. 

“Please. I have to at least make this believable and you’re not making it any easier,” you snarl. 

“Are you serious? Our chemistry is like if Einstein banged a beaker--” 

“Einstein was a physicist--” 

“Science is science, baby. All I know is there’s something here and the sooner you accept it, the harder I’ll-- I mean the easier this will be.” 

You look at him dully. All those years you spent bending over backward for him. Behind the mask, he’s a cretin. You always had a suspicion but he was never your creep to deal with. 

“How do you do that?” He asks. 

You grumble and shake your head, turning your glare to the flat screen across from you. 

“How the hell do you skin a man with your eyes? It’s bone tingling and boner-inducing, but damn, it’s something else,” he shifts in his chair noticeably, “you’re gonna make me fly all the way to Canada at half-mast?” 

“You can book a seat across the plane from me if you’re going to keep on,” you warn him. “I’m really not in the mood. We have a deal. I’ll do my part. Pretend, nothing more, and you’ll keep your hands to yourself and give me my money.” 

“I got it, baby. I’m a businessman,” he turns straight and plants his feet wide. “I make deals every day. You’ll get yours.” 

“I want an advance--” 

“An advance? What the hell do you mean? I paid for first-class. Elite,” he punctuates with his finger. “Advance, my juicy ass.” 

“Ten. In my account. Before take-off.” 

“Pfft, you don’t trust me?” 

“No, I don’t,” you affirm. “More so, you owe me. I defaulted on the refund on the flight you made me miss. Oh, and I didn’t get to see my family. On Christmas.” 

“Jeez, well you don’t seem that happy to,” he accuses. 

“Money, now.” 

“Fine, but I get one titty grab--” 

“You get nothing. Mon-ey.” You rub your fingers together. 

He huffs and leans forward as he takes his phone out. He rolls his eyes and taps around on the screen. He takes a deep breath then pushes down. He shows you the screen. “Go ahead and check. You got your blood money.” 

“This is your idea,” you retort. 

“It is my idea but you’re rejecting all my other ones. Like, you know, a sexy massage with a happy ending...” 

“You’re going to give me another headache.” 

“I’ll take it. At least I make you feel something.” He shrugs. 

You shake your head at nothing and check your phone. You can never be too careful with him. Sharing a room has more than proven that. 

🎁

You put the in-flight earbuds in and resign yourself to the hours ahead of you, trapped in a flying canister, next to this incessant man-child. He really brings out the bitch in you. That irritates you even more. You could do anything before without much thought at all; you just got through but Lloyd makes everything a task. 

You close your eyes as the video babbles on. It’s a new release, but those are all remakes and sequels without any real interest. The altitude does little for the shadow of achiness that lingers in the base of your skull. One wrong move and you’ll reawaken your migraine. 

The steady thrum of air around the plane lulls you in a stupor. Just enough for you to stop caring but not deep enough for sleep. You let your head fall toward the window and sink into the numb daze. 

A small tickle makes you shift. You think nothing of it. It’s so small, it could be nothing. Then the sensation travels down to your knee and back up your thigh. You smack Lloyd’s hand before he can repeat the action. 

“Quit,” you hiss. 

He spreads his hand and curls his fingers into your tender flesh. You squeak and open your eyes, clasping onto his wrist as he needs. It’s as if he pinching your nerves. 

“Ow, oh, stop--” you protest. 

“Come on, baby,” he leans over and winks. “Just let me pet the kitty. It’ll help you relax.” 

“How many times can I tell you the same thing--” 

“Just like a dog, you need to be repetitive. Conditioning or whatever,” he purrs. 

You glance past him at the low wall blocking out your seats from the sight of the other pods in first class. You clutch his two middle fingers and squeeze. You bend them back until he grunts and recoils. 

“You touching me isn’t going to make me relax--” 

“Never know if you don’t try,” he wiggles his brows. 

“Trust me, I know.” 

“I’m sure your family don’t need you in a pissy mood. I’m doing it for them, Pixie.” 

“Can I ask you something?” You narrow your eyes, “does the begging usually work?” 

He snorts. He shakes his head and sits back, raising his palms, “you will be flattered to know I don’t usually beg.” He leans against the seat and rests his head on the cushion. “When I tell a girl to hike her skirt up, she just does it. All of them but you.” He clucks and rolls his eyes. “You know that pretty blond from Pristine? Yeah, whenever she comes around, I got her bent over the desk. Thought you’d catch on, she’s not very quiet.” 

You won’t grace him with an excuse. You don’t need one. You’re usually busy, minding your own business, running his errands. You never cared about his office flings. 

“Maybe you should’ve asked her to meet your family,” you suggest. 

“Kidding me? She never shuts up. I gotta stuff my tie in her mouth. Usually why I turn her around--” 

“Lloyd,” you snap. 

“Jealous?” He smirks and you stare back blankly. “You know what? Gotta admit, you surprised me, Pixie Pie. Always quiet in the office, scurrying around like a little mouse. I figured you’d be good because you’d keep the yapper shut. Turns out, you know how to cut deep.” He pushes his shoulders wide and settles. “Never saw mom like that. Or Lillian. Yeah, that was good. You really got her.” 

He snickers and flutters his fingers menacingly. You yawn and look at the small screen. You don’t know what’s going on in the movie. What you do know is that Lloyd Hansen has more issues than one person can solve and you’re not there for anything but business. This is work. You’re getting your money and you’re moving on. 

🎁

Landing is usually a relief. You’re always happy to be on solid ground but it feels shaky as you walk off with your travel companion. The bounce in Lloyd’s step concerns you. He’s much too eager for this. 

He grabs his bags from the carousel, yours too before you can even approach. He loads them all onto a car and steers it around the airport. He’s whistling as you get through the terminal and head for the front doors. As you step outside, he chatters and stops short. 

“Holy grizzly dick, it’s freezing here,” he puffs a cloud of steam as his nose tints pink. 

“There’s not much more snow here than back in the States.” 

“Nah, it’s fucking frigid. Should’ve known,” he shivers and tucks his chin down. You make note of his snipe but don’t acknowledge it. “You maple drinkers drive on the same side of the road?” You glare at him and he winces as he meets your eyes. You’ve booked him trips to Vancouver several times. “Kidding. Obviously. That whole polite stereotype is bullshit, huh, Pix.” 

You ignore him and hail a cab. You just want to be still. The last few days, you’ve been upended. The long drive, his family, the hotel, then a plane ride on top of it all. You’re ready to just stop. 

He wheels the cart around to the trunk and leaves it to the driver to load. You want to admonish him but you’re over the argument. You know you’re going to need your energy. You get in and he climbs in with you.  

He blows into his hands then rubs his cheek. “Santa dropped a load on this place, huh?” He unzips his coat and reaches under it. He fishes around the inside pocket and slips out a pair of glasses. You furrow your nose. You’ve never seen him wear glasses. 

“Where did you get those?” 

“Hipster boy in coach. Snagged them when I hit the restroom,” he explains and pops them on, leaning against you as he cranes to see his reflection in the rear-view mirror. 

“You stole glasses?” 

“Borrowed,” he insists then turns to you. “What’d ya think? Am I the perfect good boy for mom and pop?” 

“You think glasses are gonna do something?” 

“We talked about this, we gotta be convincing, sweetheart. I gotta be a man that sweet lil Pixie would go for.” He adjusts the glasses. “I read Hemingway and have a degree in Social Justice.” 

“Shut--” you catch yourself and sniff. “I don’t even like Hemingway.” 

“Jane Austen? Really? A romantic?” 

“Does it matter?” 

“I’d say. We have to at least pretend we can stand each other. Not just...” he looks down at his lap, “stand for each other.” 

“Ugh, well, start with cutting out those nasty remarks. Second, try, uh, taking care of...” you gesture over your lip, “this.” 

He blinks and his brows draw together. He touches his upper lip, “my mustache?” His eyes widen behind the lenses. “Um, this is style, honey.” 

You scrunch your lips as you try not to laugh. He really believes that. You shrug as the driver gets in. He crosses his arms. 

“Whatever. Judge me but don’t just the stache,” he snips. “So, you gotta tell me. Favourite book.” 

“Do I?” 

“Well, we’re ‘engaged’ so I think I should know,” he argues. 

You watch through the windshield as the taxi follows the airport traffic to the street, “The Bell Jar. If I have to choose one.” 

“Oooh, Plath. How... depressing. But I knew it, you’re a reader, Pixie. Bet you like to sink into a hot tub and get cozy with a good novel. You get the kinky one, let the hand wander below the surface--” 

You elbow him and he cackles. “Alright, sorry. I just—a man’s used to eating daily.” 

“Maybe a diet will do you well,” you retort. 

“Cheat day will come soon enough,” he says. “I’ll do my best to keep my pants on, just don’t go putting your head in any ovens.” 

“You’re awful,” you exclaim. “That’s awful.” 

“Alright,” he combs his hair back, “gonna be a good boy. Promise.” 

“You can take the glasses off.” 

“I kinda like ‘em,” he grins and pinches the arms. 

You make a face but say nothing. The city passes by and your eyes gloss over the familiar sights. The taxi drops you at the rental place and you pull up the booking. There’s at least an hour before you get outside Toronto, then another to your mom’s place. You take the keys and jingle them at Lloyd. 

“Wanna drive?” You ask. 

“I don’t really know where I’m going,” he says. 

“Right.” 

“Besides, Pixie, you got control issues.” 

“Me?” You scoff. “Sure.” 

“Oh, you do,” he assures you as you cross the lot to the rental. “Once you give in to them, you’ll be a lot happier and I'll be your perfect sub.” 

You pop the trunk and tut as you approach the driver’s side, “get the bags in the car, would ya?” 

[cbge]

upd: 7 slots available

opening proper commissions...

all prices are per character, 10 slots available. to claim a slot, reach out on discord (@/gondonuebok) or via email ffc1cb@gmail.com

tos + process details under cut

sketches: a rough sketch in a lighter color that i tidy up with a darker color on the same layer. provided "as is", i.e with no additional clean up

lines + color: self-explanatory. your average full collor drawing (always full body unless requested otherwise)

lasso + lines: a mixed technique drawing. i take full creative liberty with colors, anatomy, composition, background etc. you will essentially be paying me to have fun.

what i draw:

canon, fanon, oc x canon

ocs

stylized furries, sonic, robots, aliens

what i don't draw:

real people

excessive gore (blood & bruises are ok)

incest / underage

how i work:

we discuss your commission idea in order for me to determine whether i can / want to draw it;

you send me reference image(s) of the character(s) you want me to draw. please provide clear images that make it easy to discern the character's design (i.e body type, facial features, etc). please note that, depending on the specifics of your request, if you lack clear references i may refuse your commission altogether;

i draw the initial sketch and ask for feedback. major edits are possible at this stage;

after your approval, i request the full payment to be made; i accept payments through hipolink only. after you pay, i continue working on your commission.

when the commission is finished, i will first send it to you for approval. only minor edits are possible at this stage. anything major will only be done for additional pay. if everything is to your liking, i will provide the hd image via email;

i reserve the right to post your commission on my social media and use it as an example in my future commission posts. i usually ask, but please notify me beforehand if you'd rather i keep it private.

the art i draw is for personal, non-commercial use only. no refunds.

i will be working on these at my own pace throughout the next several months; i expect to be done with everything by the end of the summer. if there is a deadline you need me to meet, please notify me beforehand.

for more examples of my work, feel free to peruse the #cbge art tag. thank you!

[crownedinmarigolds]

Hello everyone! With help from @auspex, we are putting together the first Tumblr of Darkness Secret Santa event! This event is where artists may come together, submit their World of Darkness OCs, and we can all draw and exchange gifts with one another! Just a little fun to remind one another that we're a great community!

How to Participate: There is indeed a limited amount of time to sign up to make sure everyone has a fair chance! Applications are open 11.04.2024 and will be kept open until Monday 11.11.2024. - You will be submitting your World of Darkness original characters and link their reference materials so that another artist may draw them! Please make sure you have a link that someone may have open access to. This can be a Google Drive folder, your art tag on a social media, etc.  If you make a Google Drive, make sure your Secret Santa does not have to request access and spoil the surprise. In short, just make sure it's easy for your future gifter to look through! Please don't make it a treasure hunt to find out info on your character just to make things easier. When the applications close, we will then put all participants' names into a randomizer to assign everyone their Secret Santa! Auspex and I will make sure to notify you all as soon as possible as well as provide the reference links so that you can have as much time needed to get the artwork finished. You may go as crazy or mild as you like, but just be aware that artists of ALL skill levels are invited to join! Do not be deterred if you feel like you can't draw - that is the devil talking! Every work of art you make is amazing and any gift with heart behind it is wonderful. - For this year, we asks that the gifts remain art-only. Any medium is fine (digital or traditional) but writing, playlists, mood boards, or anything else won't be accepted. Those things are great, and maybe in the future that could be another exchange, but for simplicity's sake - keep it to art, please. If you want to add mood boards or playlists or write ups as little bonuses to your art - that is entirely up to you! - Please remember these works of art are gifts. This exchange is a community event where everyone is free to participate and share in the spirit of giving during this holiday season. Do not feel bad if you feel like you are not drawing as "well" as somebody else, and please do not make others feel bad if you feel like they're not reaching your standards. This is meant to be fun and for everyone who wants to try! We plan to notify everyone within the next day or two after closing applications, and you will have until 12.20.2024 to draw and submit your works back to Auspex and I so that we may send them to their intended recipient! If you know the person you have and would like to share early, we understand, but please if you would keep it off of Tumblr until the event is concluded just so everyone can be surprised! Once the event is over, have at it and post away! - Please respect the time and effort everyone is putting in! If you feel like something has come up and you won't be able to finish or participate after applying - that is fine. Just let us know as early as possible so that we can either inform your gift recipient or take you off the list.

You will find the application here: https://forms.gle/9VTyd4FsyENwjR4B6

For any questions or concerns, please feel free to reach out to me (crownedinmarigolds) either on Tumblr or through my email - ladyofsilks@gmail.com. You may also reach out to auspex on Tumblr as well in case I'm unavailable! Thank you all for being a community I love and and I hope we have lots of fun trying this out!

Please reblog so all of the community may see and get to join in!

[weirdsht]

What es up 👾

What if totcf with transmigrated!reader that barely says anything about themselves but they know so much about the others, they think it's kinda unfair how easy they are to read to reader (reader has read the novel so they're like a piece of cake to reader) and then one time everyone was drinking, some were drunk, some were dead on the floor or couch, then reader says "I miss my husband..." With such a solemn expression and everyone is shocked because wdym u have a fockin husband????

Rosalyn: *sees reader crying their eyes out* you... You have a husband?

Reader: yes, Rosa sob I miss him, my kids, too!

The gang: Kid? Wait, kids? Plural...? How come we never knew of this????????????

Reader was actually referring to their fictional boyfriend and characters they grew to love that they knew about from Earth, but reader is like, crying like it's the saddest thing as if their spouse went to war

…Seriously? - LoTCF & Reader

a/n: a/n: not me sneaking my lads obsession in here, also I had to choose 1 LI so the gig isn't out of the bag so soon but I don't have a bias there... so i used the usual roulette lol, find out who won as you read the story

tags: earth timeline doesn't make sense. transmigrator reader, love and deepspace mentions, platonic, fluss

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist

[Name] was an enigma to Cale’s group. They know that she’s not from their world. Know that she can predict the future to a certain extent. However, beyond that information, they don’t know much about the transmigrator. 

They barely know anything personal about [Name].

Which is a bit unfair if one thinks about it deeply. [Name] knows everyone like the back of her hand, but they don’t even know if the name she has given her is her real one.

But it doesn’t matter much. Cale’s group is not one to pry information that could possibly be sensitive out of a comrade. They all have their secrets after all, maybe [Name] was uncomfortable talking about her previous life.

Well, that was until Rosalyn saw her crying one day.

It was a normal day, a good one even. For the first time in a while, there’s absolutely nothing to do. Even Rosalyn’s research has been put on hold. And so she decided to find [Name] so they could try to newly opened cafe in town, and have a girl’s day.

“[Name] are you busy–”

The mage stopped in her tracks as she heard the transmigrator sob from the other side of the door. [Name]’s cries were quiet but it caused a loud concern to ring in Rosalyn’s heart.

“Why are you crying? Did something happen?”

Rosalyn opened the door, panic spread through her body as [Name] is known to never cry.

“Ro-rosa..?”

[Name] looked up as the door opened. Her knees touched her chest, her head resting on top of it. Tear stains could be seen on her clothes, it looked like she had been crying for a while now.

“I’m fine, don’t worry nothing happened.”

She reassured Rosalyn as she wiped her eyes with her sleeves. Her voice was wobbly, not helping her case and certainly not making the ex-royal believe her.

Rosalyn took [Name]’s hands on her left hand and wiped the transmigrator’s tears with the handkerchief she bought with her right hand. Concern is etched on her face as she gives [Name]’s hands comforting strokes.

“Tell this unnie what’s wrong.”

Both have forgotten about the door being wide open. Making everyone, the three kids and Lock, hear everything they are talking about.

“It’s a silly thing… I just realized it’s been so long since I saw my husband…”

Rosalyn fought the urge to overreact at the news that one of her friends had a husband she didn’t know about.

“From your previous world?”

“...Yeah, it’s been so long since I saw him. It doesn’t help that when I last saw him it looked like he was going on a very dangerous mission.”

[Name] was crestfallen as she spoke. It was clear just how much she missed him.

“My children too, I only saw my twins for a short while!”

The whiplash Rosalyn is getting from these shocking pieces of information is too much.

Good thing another redhead arrived to save the day.

“Why are you four hiding over there?”

Cale asked the four children and only then did the two women realise how the door was open. Rosalyn shot [Name] an apologetic look. She didn’t mean for her personal life to be broadcasted like that.

“No need to be sorry, it wasn’t really a secret. There wasn’t just a chance to bring it up.”

[Name] assured the mage as she gestured over to the five outside her door. Beckoning them to go inside.

As Cale and the children walked towards the transmigrator, they updated Cale as to what they heard.

“So you had a husband before coming here?”

“Yes, my husband Sylus… I didn’t even get his limited card before I could… huek!”

The transmigrator teared up once more and every one pitied her despite their confusion. Just what card is she talking about? Maybe it’s an earth thing they don’t know about.

“[Name]-nim are you talking about a credit card?”

Choi Han peeked from outside. He was just passing by when he heard the children updating Cae about his fellow transmigrator’s life.

“Huh? Oh no, I mean he did have a black card but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Now Choi Han was part of the confused crowd. If she didn’t mean a savings card what could she be talking about then?

Meanwhile, in the corner of the room, Cale squinted his eyes. That man knows for a fact that [Name] hasn’t even had her first kiss yet. What are all these lies about a husband? 

…Plus the name she said sounded very familiar.

“Could you tell us more about him?”

“Yeah tell us please nya!”

Raon and Hong encouraged [Name] to talk more, interested in the slightest information about their mysterious friend’s personal life.

“Well, his very tall. Around 187cm I think? He kind of looks like a vampire with his white hair and red eyes. I can confidently say that his one of the most handsome guys out there.”

Everyone became even more intrigued. Just how great was this husband of hers? [Name] sounded very in love with him. He also sounded well-off based on Choi Han’s explanation of how a black card is like the equivalent of a golden plaque.

“Oh, he also has this thing called Evol. Basically he has powers, his power in particular is controlling energy. His super strong, he can even heal wounds.”

From the corner of the room, Cale suppressed a sigh as he placed the pieces together. Instead, he opted to silently facepalm.

The conversation about [Name]’s supposed “husband” lasted for a few more minutes before everyone filed out of her room. Leaving only her and Cale behind.

“What was your affinity level before you got here?”

“Affinity 60… But omg, you play love and deespace too!?”

[Name] looked at the redhead man who was finally letting out that deep, imparted sigh he had been holding in since earlier.

“No, I just saw forum leaks about your husband Sylus.”

“Ohhhh, I was wondering how you knew when he was barely out when I transmigrated…”

An awkward silence lingered around the two. Both of them don’t know how to proceed with the new information. In fact, [Name] didn’t know that game existed on Cale’s earth.

Wait was it possible that they were from the same earth?

But he had powers…

[Name] decided to not think about it.

“Next time, refrain from speaking about your fictional husbands as if they’re real… I think you nearly gave Rosalyn a heart attack?”

“Wait really!?”

[Name] looked at Cale who was on his way to go back to his room. She didn’t know the repercussions of casually speaking about her otome game. The redhead only looked at her as if she was a lost cause. 

“Yes, really.“

incase you were curious about the roulette lol dont mind me using the jp names im just more used to that

[gorbo-longstocking]

Do Not Blame the Sea | Chapter 14

Pairing: Emperor Geta/Reader, Emperor Caracalla/Reader

Summary: You have a much needed conversation with both brothers, and Caracalla makes a decision.

Tags: Internal monologue featuring mentions of how the main character’s body will change without testosterone and being nervous about that, mentions of a possibly returning period, discussions of possible suicide, unsuccessful masturbation, some self hatred from the main character regarding their body, fingering, unprotected p in v, slight overstimulation, tdick is referred to as both a ‘clit’ and a ‘dick.’

Word Count: 9.1k words

Read on AO3

Masterlist.

When you woke up, you were alone. 

Save for you, splayed smack in the middle, the bed was empty. Completely and utterly empty. You tried to swallow your disappointment, even if you couldn’t say you were surprised. Geta was far too emotionally constipated to feel comfortable waking up in the arms of another, and Caracalla was sure to be irate at best, given how he found you the previous night. 

You remembered waking up to Caracalla returning to slot himself against your back. He hadn’t been gone long enough for his side of the bed to go cold. It was a bit odd he stayed so long considering he found you in his brother’s embrace. In fact, you felt a hint of worry squirm in your gut when you realized he hadn’t even thrown a jealous fit. Either he was livid, or his mind was finally dusting off the cobwebs, allowing him critical thought for once in his life.

As soon as you woke up a bit more, you would have to find him. After you spoke to Geta, of course. For far too long, you had afforded Caracalla leniency when you gave his brother none. You had seen how that affected Geta, his breakdown still fresh in your mind. That didn’t mean you wouldn’t continue to be loving and patient with Caracalla — he was your lover, after all — but, for the sake of Geta’s sanity, you would extend him the same grace. Maybe it was a bit presumptuous to treat Geta as you would someone who you were being courted by. Truthfully, that didn’t matter to you. He had hit you, and you had used his abuse as a weapon in your pettiness. As insistent you were that you were right, his mindset was leading him down a slippery slope, you were cruel to have spoken so bluntly. There was too much that went unsaid last night, and you wouldn’t allow the situation to fester any longer than it already had. 

Where Geta once laid was frigid, indicating he had been gone for quite some time. You flopped your head against the pillow he slept on and inhaled. Roses filled your senses, mingling with the lavender to your right. It was perfect. Without a doubt, the best combination of scents you had ever had the pleasure of experiencing. That thought only solidified what you were meant to do, as strange as it was. 

You were done being in denial. While you wouldn’t say you were in love with Geta — it was far too early for that — you did have rather intense feelings for him. A crush encircled your ribs, and a rather debilitating one too. Not as bad as what he felt for you, though. The reminder sent a wave of giddiness through you. 

Were you being greedy to want both of them? Especially considering they were brothers, twins, at that. By modern standards, polyamory was already a bit of a taboo, let alone being romantically involved with two siblings. That didn’t mean you couldn’t fantasize about it. You may not know what the future held, but you knew, now, at least, that you held two tattered hearts in your hands. The last thing you wanted to do was harm those limply beating organs anymore than they already had been. 

Smiling now, you buried your face in your sheets and let out a childish giggle. Being loved by Caracalla made you feel wanted, a feeling you had chased all your life. To know another man, another powerful man, felt so deeply about you too, it was enough to make you turn into a villain. If those two weren’t careful, your ego would become monstrous. Maybe Justina would knock you down a peg. You certainly needed it. 

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed, your morning daydreams quickly turned into reality. Geta and Caracalla were already unpopular with the people, publically wedding, and even as little as indulging their favor, would not go over well. Before anything could happen, let alone that ridiculous marriage you were pining after, you had to figure out a way to boost both emperors’ status with both the senate and the citizens. That meant leaving Palatine Hill and listening to the peoples’ grievances yourself. You were not a fool — anymore, but you digressed — both men would listen to you faster than even a fellow patrician. If you could figure out how to pull the strings, you could solidify Geta and Caracalla’s reigns, not only benefiting yourself, but all of Rome as well. 

Selfish intentions, or not, it didn’t matter. In the end, you were doing good. Later, when you found the time, you would go into the Forum and learn everything you could. This plan was easier said than done. Caracalla would be hard pressed to let you out of his sight, and Geta similarly so, without praetorian escorts. You did, however, have faith in your intelligence and stubborn refusal to give up. Everything would work out in the end, you would make certain of it.

First, though, you had to talk to Geta. 

Once again, you had fallen asleep in your tunic. In the back of your bedroom was a chest where you stuffed all your clothes that you deemed too dirty to wear any longer. The only articles you washed were your boxers, and you had, unfortunately, run out of that hotel shampoo you had been using to clean them. You would have to find a solution, fast, because your options were very quickly narrowing down to three. Either you began to stink, you let the palace slaves wash your clothes in urine, or you got ahold of more soap to do loads yourself. Hopefully, the latter would be the one to happen to you, though with your luck, you were certain it wouldn’t. That didn’t stop you from stuffing your dirty tunic in with the others. 

You picked a pretty green tunic that Caracalla had gifted you to wear for today. It had red and gold accents, reminding you of Christmas. Tis the season, you thought to yourself, despite the summer heat. As Roman fashion dictated, you tied a belt around your waist to keep the tunic from looking more like a wearable tent than clothing. You gave yourself a twirl and admired yourself in the mirror. The dye in your hair was beginning to fade, no longer as vibrant as it once was, and your roots were more obvious than ever. It was a shame you’d never be able to color it again. Hands on your hips, you let out a huff. Unless you figured out a solution. Alas, synthesizing hair dye was not in your repertoire of skills, and you were far too scared to destroy your hair risk using fabric dye.

It seemed you would be forced to go back to your natural color. Pulling on a strand, you let out a mournful sigh. No matter, down into the pit it went. Geta took priority over your own sense of despair over your appearance. You were as satisfied as you could get, though you certainly missed the comfort of your testosterone shots. Without access, you would suffer certain… changes. Facial hair, your masculine voice, and your dick would remain, but you knew, along the line, your fat would redistribute into a more feminine shape. Wider hips, softer skin, different smell, and, god forbid, your monthly visitor would be sure to return. You were still a man, no matter what happened, that wasn’t up for debate. It was simply the deeply unfortunate fact that these changes would not be easy to hide. Before hormone replacement therapy, you were already rather masculine in appearance, you weren’t too worried about that. What truly worried you was the dreaded arrival of ‘Aunt Flo.’ 

Maybe you could feign sickness for a week. You rolled your eyes. That would go over well with Caracalla. His voice echoed in your head, high and whiney, ‘Melimelum, I do not care about catching what ails you, I miss you!’

It was only a matter of time before your secret was out. With every day that passed, you dreaded it more and more. 

But, again, that was a problem for the future. Right now, you had more important matters to discuss with Geta, and then after, you needed to find your beloved Caracalla to soothe him however you could. All of this anxiety could be stuffed as deep as it could go until the day came when you had to face it in its entirety. Unless it was imminent, you would ignore it.

With that in mind, and an ache in your gut, you strode out of your chambers into the labyrinthine halls of the palace. Instead of repeating previous mistakes where you wandered for hours in the oppressive heat, desperately looking for a flash of red, you asked where Geta was instead. Apparently, he was eating lunch with a handful of senators while Caracalla played with Dondas in the gardens. 

You leaned out of one of the windows to see Caracalla sitting on a bench, Dondas on his shoulder, lost in thought as he plucked the petals off of a bloom. When he was done with that, he tossed the stem over his shoulder to begin pulling the leaves off of a nearby shrub. All while he did this, Dondas chittered and squeaked, toying with strands of his fiery hair. Every so often, he would bring his hand up to give her a fond pat, or feed her from a bowl of grapes.

He didn’t look angry, merely melancholic. It made your heart ache. 

“Kitty!” Leaning farther out of the window, you waved at him. “Good morning!” 

Caracalla’s eyes flickered to you, and to your relief, they softened, though his jaw was still clenched tight. 

“Alga,” He greeted back, more subdued than you had ever seen him. “You are awake.” 

“We must talk soon. About important matters.” Careful not to fall, you placed your feet flat on the floor. The lack of his usual energy put you on edge, and you began to pick at your fingers. 

“Yes, we must,” Caracalla replied. The poor shrub was half bare now, a pile of tiny leaves at his feet. “At another hour. Go, now. I am thinking, dulcissimus. I do not need your sweetness distracting me.” 

Awkwardly playful, you twitched your fingers in another tiny wave, one he, thankfully, returned. “Do not think too hard, my Caracalla. I would miss you if you overdid it.”

The pebble he threw at you in response nearly hit you in the forehead. “Over do? I am perfectly capable of complex thought, Alga!”

You ducked behind the corner before the next rock he threw could hit you. It arced into the floor and bounced a few paces before rolling to a stop. When you crouched down to pick it up, another hard object — a grape, this time — bounced off your spine. Popping your head out the window again, you made a show of eating it. “How did you know I was hungry? You always take care of me, kitty.” 

That made Caracalla laugh, a little, aborted huff he quickly tried to stifle beneath a stern expression. “Begone with you, Alga! Your brave lover needs to consider the benefits of his selflessness.”

Whatever that meant. Caracalla was a simple man — most of the time — but he was capable of deep, and confusing, complexities. The real question was what he considered ‘selflessness’ to be. Knowing what you knew about him, it was either some great act you previously thought him incapable of, or, more likely, he was thinking about sharing his favorite dessert with someone he wasn’t entirely fond of. Possibly, Geta. He was the only other person, besides you, that Caracalla would dare share with. 

That in mind, you gave Caracalla a final wave before trotting off to find his brother. He didn’t notice, and you weren’t offended. There was already metaphorical smoke coming out of his ears, no need to give him anything else to consider. 

The trek to the dining room — or the triclinium — was not short, nor long. It simply was, leaving you with enough time to get your thoughts in order before speaking to Geta. You waited in the halls outside of the triclinium, waiting for the luncheon to end with bated breath. From here, you could hear laughter, more often than not, before it descended into a tense silence. You had witnessed Geta at work in the senate. The people of Rome treated him with an air of caution, though nowhere near as bad as what Caracalla received. While less sadistic, his temper was sharp, and his uptight paranoia made his people skills lacking. If you wanted to help better the emperors’ reputation, you would have to witness how they interacted with Rome’s upper crusts.

You had seen a little, and what you’d seen left much to be desired. Geta was dismissive, stubborn, and incapable of receiving criticism. Senators walked on eggshells around him. Quietly, you tiptoed towards the triclinium and peered inside. Around a small table lounged three senators on lecti, Geta perched on his own at the head. He ate an olive and spit the pit on the floor next to him for a slave to clean. Gross. The other men chattered on, mostly about nothing of interest, likely too afraid to bring up any serious topics, while Geta looked bored. 

You eavesdropped for about ten minutes before you caught Geta’s eye. Maybe it was the red of your tunic — though, most likely, it was your hair. Either way, he perked up like a dog who heard the word treat, his brown eyes widening when they fell on you. You knew what was coming. With a subtle hand motion, you tried to nip it in the bud, only for Geta to blatantly ignore you.

“That will be all, senators,” Geta’s sharp voice rang out, cutting through the chatter. He stood, graceful in his motions, while everyone else remained on their side, far too stunned to join him. 

A man you didn’t recognize was next to speak, “Emperor Geta, the meal is not yet complete.”

“Then finish it. I have more important matters to attend to.” He nodded to you, drawing the eye of every man to the fact that you were peeping around the corner. With a flush, you stepped into the doorway in an effort to look less suspicious. 

“Salve, senators.” You punctuated your greeting with an awkward wave. 

It went ignored. Especially by an incensed Senator Dorso. “More important than the empire? We have much to discuss in regards to Numidia!”

“No, more important than you, Dorso.” Geta sneered, tilting his chin in that way that made you feel as though he was looking down on you. Personally, you hated being on the receiving end of it. All it did was irritate you. Senator Dorso’s eyebrow twitch did not go unnoticed. “This is my medicus, we have an appointment. My health takes precedence.”

“Yes, an appointment, I am sure, Caesar,” Another senator laughed under his breath to Dorso as he took a sip of wine. “One that I am certain you will enjoy very much.” 

It was obvious only Dorso was meant to hear. When Geta puffed up, his stare flinty, the man visibly cowered. “Care to repeat that, Rufus?” 

“I— I only meant that your medicus looks as though he had a tender touch, Caesar. Any man would be lucky to receive it.” There was still an innuendo to his words. One you didn’t much appreciate. 

Geta’s response didn’t help matters, “One you will never experience, Rufus. If you find yourself jealous, there is no need to fret. I am certain there are many men who would be pleased to lend to your recipience.” 

“Excuse me, Caesar?” Rufus sat up now, his face hot and eyes narrowed. 

“You are excused.” He outstretched his arms, gesturing to all in attendance. “You are all excused, or perhaps you expect to leave under more forceful persuasions.”

Behind his back, you made an exasperated face. Of course, Geta didn’t notice, too busy ruining what was left of your tattered reputation with his ego. Without waiting for the senators to obey, he turned on his heel and ushered you out into the hall. His hand ghosted over the small of your back, the sound of several hurried exits behind you. 

Once you were certain no one was listening, you planted your hands on your hips and glared at Geta. “There goes what little credibility I have left.” 

“You do not need their approval to know your skills, medicus,” Geta argued, crossing his arms. Before you could speak again, he hushed you and looked over his shoulder into the triclinium. It was empty now, save for slaves cleaning up the mess left behind. “I know how good you are at what you do, and so does my brother. We trust you and your skills. That should be enough.” 

“I’d still rather be known as the emperor’s surgeon, not his boytoy,” You huffed. The English came naturally to you in your frustration.

“Bou-y tou-y?” Geta repeated, an eyebrow raised. 

Pursing your lips, you explained, your displeasure evident. “Your puer. A pretty man who is a sex object for a more powerful partner. It is degrading.” 

“The affection of a single emperor is far from degrading, medicus, let alone two.” Despite saying this, Geta ran a hand down his face, stopping to pinch the bridge of his nose. “But, I suppose you have a point.” 

“Oh, a point other than his own recognized by Imperator Geta, what an honor.” Though you were still rather miffed, your tone was playful, as was the light tap of your elbow to his side. 

Geta’s cheek twitched, betraying his amusement. “Tone, medicus.” 

“What will you do if I don’t?” A little more comfortable, you pressed your back against the wall, the soles of your sneakers squeaking against the marble floor. 

Geta curled his hands behind his back and leaned forward. He was smirking now. “You have no concept of what I am capable of.” That, coupled with the husky tone of his voice, made you flush. Flirting was not what you came to do, even if it did feel nice. Geta noticed the color to your cheeks and hummed, his eyes fond and lips twitching upwards. “Speechless, medicus?”

“You can call me Alga.”

That caught him off guard. Guilt and anger hardened his features as he sat back on his heels. “I see.”

You frowned. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” He said, knowing damn well what you meant. 

“Shut me out.” Geta opened his mouth, probably to argue, but you cut him off. It was an effort to keep your voice soft, but it was one you made all the same. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you continued, “You can call me Alga. I do not mind it, I have come to think of it as a second name, and the fact it was you who gave it to me is important to me.”

His gaze flickered to your hand and a muscle in his jaw jumped. “I did not give you that name out of any affection. I was… making fun of you.” 

“I am aware,” Came your dry response. “That does not change that I like it.”

“Do you know what Alga means?” No, but, distantly, you remembered someone telling you and not being too happy with what you learned. Geta took in your stubborn expression with a sigh. “It means ‘seaweed.’” 

“Green! As is my hair! That is not so b—”

He cut you off with a raise of his hand. “It also means ‘something of little worth.’” 

You felt yourself deflate. “Ah.” 

“I did not know how… wrong that nickname would be,” Geta awkwardly explained. He shifted from foot to foot as he spoke, alternating between intense eye contact and an inability to look at you. “You are worth—” 

Swallowing hard, his hands flexed by his sides.

“Do not strain yourself, Caesar.” 

“If you do not want to listen, then I suppose I shall not speak.” Prissy as ever, Geta huffed and turned his nose in the air. You laughed and gave him a friendly shove. If he was offended before, he certainly was now, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth a flat line. Still, the tenderness in his tone gave him away. “Assault on your Imperator, I should have you beheaded.”

Slowly so as not to spook him, you wrapped your arms around him and gave him a small squeeze. He stiffened and did not reciprocate. “You do not have to say it. Meus vitus. I am worth the life of an emperor.” 

Geta’s face flared a deep red, visible even under his caked on foundation. Pushing you away, you stumbled and watched as he lifted his hand to his lips before placing his face flat in his palm. “You heard that.”

It wasn’t a question, but a statement. You nodded, your smile both small and fond. “I heard. It was enough, Geta. I am sorry it took… all of last night to understand how deep your affections go.”

“Stop.”

Your jaw snapped shut of its own accord, though you quickly regained steam. “Let me finish. I am sorry for what I said to you. I fear I will regret how bluntly I spoke to you for the rest of my life. How I hurt you, there is no amount of guilt or shame that will absolve m—”

Geta waved you off, his face still hidden in his hand. “Medicus, stop.” 

“No, Imperator, I command you to listen.” Bulldozing right past him, you, yet again, stepped close enough to that your skin was touching his. “I am still angry that you hit me, but I meant it when I said that I forgive yo—”

“Alga! Would you cease this nonsense?!” 

Your eyebrows disappeared into your hairline. “What?”

“I was pathetic! You should not be here, prostrating yourself before me, you should despise me! I should be the one who—” Geta took in a shuddering breath and removed his hand from his face. His adam’s apple bobbled when he swallowed, voice softer than before, “I should have never put my hands on you.” 

“I forgive you, anyway.” 

With jerky motions, Geta reached for you. His knuckles brushed against your cheek, an affection he terminated quickly with a harsh pat. “You are far too kind to me, meus vitus.”

An awkward giggle tumbled from your lips, and Geta’s shoulders jumped when he followed suit. You cleared your throat, ignoring him when he did the same. “I should… I should go. Are you still angry with me?”

“No.” He shook his head. His fingers danced across your own before returning to clasp behind his back. “Are you angry with me?”

“No.”

“Good,” He said.

“Yes, good,” You replied. The two of you stood in silence for far too long, neither sure of what to say. It was you who broke the silence. “I need to speak with Caracalla.”

Geta’s face scrunched up as though he ate a lemon. “Yes, your lover. Go to him, meus vitus, I will be in my office if you find a need of me.” 

Before you could think better of it, you leaned forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek. You could feel the heat from Geta’s blush against your lips. Instead of letting you pull away, he took a step back, and you couldn’t help but let your disappointment show. 

“My brother,” He reminded you. “Loves you very much.” 

“He is not the only one.”

Geta visibly flinched at that, his throat bobbing. “It is better if you… Perhaps, you should allow yourself to forget such notions.” 

“If that is what you want,” You conceded.

Geta nodded, unable to meet your eyes. “What I want is unnecessary, Algacula. Go to my brother, focus on him. I do not need to be—” He cut himself off by pursing his lips. “— I am fine on my own, medicus, as I always have been. Do not… strain yourself for my sake. Your love for Caracalla runs deep, I have witnessed it myself. I know that… I know that we should continue this conversation later. Vale.”

Without allowing you a chance to dissuade his fears, Geta sped away back into the triclinium and out of the doors the senators left from. You stood, stunned, more certain than ever that your feelings did not end with only one twin. While you knew it was a pipe dream for Caracalla to share, of all things, you would regret it if you never asked him.

With that in mind, you steeled your resolve, and headed for the gardens. 

Of course, when you finally returned to where you spotted Caracalla before, this time on the ground floor, the only thing there was a peacock. One of Caracalla’s if it was roaming free, Geta kept his animals — not pets, he insisted — in tight order. It looked at you, radiating offense as if your mere presence had done it wrong. In an effort to offer peace, you grabbed a handful of seeds that were left in a hanging bowl and scattered them on the ground. The peacock began to peck at the kernels. You relaxed knowing it wasn’t about to chase you like a goose would. Small mercies.

“You wouldn’t know where Caracalla is, would you?” You asked, not expecting a response.

One came anyway, familiar in an odd way, “He’s looking for you, medicus.” 

You blinked rapidly as you stared at the peacock. It couldn’t have talked, that’d be impossible. Then again, you had been the victim of spontaneous time travel. Odder things have happened.

Opening your mouth to respond, a tap on your shoulder caused you to whip around. Behind you, was Gaius, looking positively beside himself with amusement. “Who did you think was speaking, puer?” 

“Y— You, of course!” You squawked and turned on your heel so as not to look at the source of your embarrassment. It should have been obvious considering you had recognized his voice. Gaius hadn’t turned into a bird, and you looked like a complete idiot. An awkward laugh tittered from your throat. “You didn’t think I believed the peacock to be talking, did you? That would be ridiculous!”

“Yes, it would!” Gaius managed to say between squeaks of laughter. “It would be positively ridiculous for the Caesarēs talented physician to be speaking to the birds. It is good that was not the case.”

“Yes, very good.” You nodded.

Gaius smirked at you, his green eyes alight. “Oh, sweet, receptive boy of my superiors, do not leave me in suspense. How did you know I was here with your back to me?”

“I heard your footsteps,” You lied. Silently, you cursed that damn bird for doing this to you. It had to have humiliated you on purpose, you were sure. “Gaius, where is Emperor Caracalla?”

“It is as I said. He is looking for you.” 

Exasperation caused you to run your hand down your face. “And where was he last?”

He paused for dramatic effect before bursting into peals of laughter. “I do not know, ask the bird!” 

Your punch to his shoulder did little damage to him. It only served to make him laugh harder, his hand clasped on your shoulder as he shook you. After a moment, he calmed and took two steps back. “He should be here any minute. Good luck, medicus, I hear he intends to fuck you good this time.”

Barely a second passed before familiar footsteps caught your attention. Tiny as he was, Caracalla walked like a giant, each step practically thundering against the marble. It was especially noticeable when he was in a hurry. When you glanced back at Gaius, his back was ramrod straight, all amusement gone and replaced by an expression fitting of the best the empire had to offer, right on time for Caracalla to arrive.

“Alga! There you are!” He stood under the archway that led to the gardens, his hands on his hips. Lifting his chin the same way that Geta did, he looked down his nose at you. Instead of irritation, it filled you with a burning sense of anticipation. “Were you hiding from me again?”

“No, I was searching for you.” That got his shoulders to droop.

With an outstretched hand, his fingers twitched, expectantly motioning for you to join him. You did so with no hesitation, only turning away to give Gaius a nod farewell. “Come to me, dulcis. I have thought long and hard about what I must tell you.” His expression became stormy when you intertwined your hand with his. “I am not pleased with my decision.” 

You allowed him to lead you into a private room away from the gardens. Like most other rooms, it was sparsely decorated with a lectus or two, a chest to hold items, and a few tapestries on the walls. It was hard to pay attention to your surroundings with Caracalla so close to you. Leaning closer to him, you inhaled the scent of lavender, causing his lips to twitch. “Then why make it if it does not please you?”

Still holding onto you, Caracalla kicked a vase across the room. It shattered when it hit the wall, shards of blue scattered in the corner. You gave his hand a squeeze, and his irate expression softened. “Ugh! Because of my brother’s dramatics!” Roughly, he placed his palms on your shoulders and pushed you down to the floor before he padded over the chest, pulling out a handful of little figurines. “I want to play another game with you, Alga.” 

The two of you had taken on the rather childish activity of, for lack of a better description, playing with dolls. It was fun, more fun than you had expected such an immature game to be. 

Growing up, you didn’t get the chance to be young. Your parents shoved you in as many programs as they could, mostly with people well above your age. It was alienating, to say the least. You had matured quickly in an attempt to make friends, but no teenager, nor young adult, wanted to come to a ten year old’s birthday party. There was no one who wanted to play pretend with you, or with dinosaurs, or play doctor on your stuffed animals. These games with Caracalla, you found yourself comfortable indulging in, maybe because he didn’t judge you, maybe because you never had the opportunity before, or maybe it was just fun to be young with him. 

Either way, you took two dolls from him with excitement in your smile. “I think this one will be an overprotective mother, and this one—” You held up the one with marbles for eyes “— will be her lovesick son romancing a man she does not approve.”

Caracalla hummed as he thought before nodding. He always got the final say in the plots you did. “Yes. My two will be the lovesick son’s lover, and his brother who pines for yours as well.”

That hit a little too close to home. Despite the sweat on your brow, you grinned. “That sounds fun, kitty. Very dramatic.” 

“Yes, your brave Caracalla has a very imaginative mind,” He said, his eyebrows furrowed. You reached forward and massaged the worry lines from his forehead. He reached to grab your wrist and pull you away, only to place a chaste kiss to your palm. “Let us have fun, melimelum.”

For the next hour, you and Caracalla yes-anded a complex web of lies and love. Though you found entertainment in the act, he seemed to grow more and more irate with every minute that passed. Each time your character would try to romance his own, the brother in Caracalla’s other hand would steal the affection. Despite him being the one doing it, the action seemed to distress him, a low growl rumbling in his throat.

“‘Kiss me, kiss me and forget about your other lover.’” He moved the brother-doll back and forth as he talked, each word spat with malice. It was obvious Caracalla was using play as an attempt to work through his own internal issues. Perhaps he always had, and you had simply been oblivious to it. You really had to start paying more attention to what was around you. 

Gently, you peeled his fingers from the doll and set it in your lap. That appeared to be a poor choice because Caracalla ripped it away from you and tore off the doll’s head. He threw both pieces across the room. The head hit the wall with a dull thud, and the body soared out a nearby window. You blinked, dumbfounded. “Do you want to talk about how you are feeling?”

“No! There is no point!” Caracalla shouted as he tugged at his hair. “It will still be unfair, and I will still be mad!” 

So as not to startle him, you picked up your doll, the other one set to the side. You had the toy toddle over to him and pull on his tunic. In his anger, he swatted you aside. Your hand stung, but you were undeterred. “Talk to me. Tell me what has upset you. Let me fix it.”

“There is no fixing it!” With far more tenderness than you thought he was capable of, given his mood, he grabbed your doll and held it close to his chest. “Geta always takes what is mine. You will choose him over me.”

“Why would I do that?” You crawled next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. A shiver wracked his body and he swallowed thickly. 

“Because everyone always chooses Geta over me. No one likes me more than him, I always have to share, and then he takes over.” His grip on the doll tightened as he curled farther in on himself. “If I do not share you, Alga, I fear my brother will fall into hysteria and kill himself.” 

Oh.

“I see,” You so eloquently said. “… I do not think he will fall to such drastic measures.”

“He will!” Caracalla insisted. “I have never seen him like he was last night. I hated it, and I hated seeing how he held you after. Only I should get to hold you in such a way, but if I deny him, then he will— Ugh! I hate Geta!”

“I think that you underestimate the lengths he would go for your happiness.” It was hard to mince your words for Caracalla, he was far more volatile than Geta, who was already a deeply insecure individual. Still, you tried to get your point across the best you could. “Forget about Geta. Do you want to share me?” 

Incensed, Caracalla puffed up. “No! I also do not want my brother to have a fit every other day. The only solution is for you to belong to both of us. It is not fair!” 

As he spoke, he brought his fists down on the floor. If he wasn’t careful, he would hurt himself. He struggled when you grabbed his wrists, squirming and thrashing as you pulled him into a hug. “Caracalla! You do not have to do what you do not want to.”

“But Geta will die! He’s so emotional and pathetic, he will not be able to take it!” Caracalla cried, kicking his legs. 

It was time to switch tactics.

“My sweet, selfless Caracalla. I cannot name another man alive who would be willing to share his lover.” At your words, he paused his convulsions to blink at you. You took this as a good sign, and continued, “Not even Geta would be so kind. It is such an attractive quality. It makes me love you all the more.”

He was quiet for a moment. “More than Geta?”

“My selfless kitty, let me tell you a secret.”

Lips parted, he sat up, his eyes searching yours. His voice was breathless as he spoke, “Yes, melimelum?”

“I will always love you more than Geta.” Truth, or not — and, as of right now, it was the truth — this was what Caracalla needed to hear. “No one would be so selfless and kind. No one shares more than you. No one else alive will be my first kiss, or my first lover. My favor will always be with you.” 

It looked as though he were inclined to believe you, his fingers clenching rhythmically from where they were wrapped around your wrist. “Do you swear it? If I let Geta have you too, do you swear that you will always favor me?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Caracalla snorted a laugh. “Your eyes are far too pretty to gouge with a needle, and your words are far too sweet to cut out your tongue.”

“What will I kiss you with, if you did?” 

With a hum, Caracalla tilted his head in thought. “That is a good point, melimelum. I must ponder a suitable punishment for you if you grow to prefer my brother.”

“Think all you want, it will never come to be. You will always be my first.” Leaning forward, you affectionately rubbed your nose against his. He closed the distance and captured your lips, far less heated than he would normally give. 

When he pulled away, he handed you back your doll. “Let us continue our game. Tell me more about that romance you read with the Greek letters. I have ideas.”

To punctuate his point, he made your doll scissor his. You barked out a laugh. As much as you liked Geta, you doubted he’d ever sit on the floor and indulge you as much as Caracalla did. Well, that was a lie, maybe he would. You looked up at Caracalla, who was furiously mashing the two toys together as he made graphic sex noises. Geta certainly wouldn’t do that, he would probably make a snide remark about how little fun he was having, before getting completely sucked into the plot. He would take it far too seriously too. 

Without thinking too much of it, you pressed a kiss to Caracalla’s cheek. “I love you.”

“Not now, dulcis. They’re fucking.” He spared you a single, somewhat miffed, glance out of the corner of his eye as he flipped the dolls into a new position. 

It was embarrassing how much you loved him. The only prospect more humiliating than falling for a manchild, was falling for two. Worse than that, you realized with a start, was that while Caracalla and Geta angsted about sharing you all morning, neither considered asking you if you were okay with it. For all they knew, you only wanted Caracalla. Maybe, you weren’t as subtle as you thought, or maybe, these two had egos big enough to assume you would go along with whatever they decided.

Whatever. This time, they were right. Without lifting a finger, you got Caracalla to agree to the impossible, though you knew it wouldn’t be easy calming his jealousy. Hopefully, Geta would mellow once he found out Caracalla was inclined to ‘share’ you. As if you were an object. Irritating, yes, but, ultimately, it could be a lot worse. 

Beside you, Caracalla made a ‘fwoosh’ noise as his doll dive bombed the other. Sexually, of course. 

This would take a while.

After several hours, and four dramatic doll pregnancies later, Caracalla was pulled away to do paperwork — much to his incessant complaining. You found yourself alone in your room. For once. Instead of sleeping in your day clothes, you managed to put on your pajamas, your band t-shirt growing more faded with every attempted wash accompanied by a pair of boxers. The past few days were eventful, and you were borderline ecstatic to have an hour to yourself. That was all it would take for Caracalla to grow bored of his duties, and you intended to enjoy every second of it. 

First of all, you assumed Caracalla would discuss what he had decided with Geta by himself, however well that would go. As much as you’d kill to be a fly on the wall for that conversation, it would also stress you out beyond comparison. Caracalla would proudly proclaim his decision to ‘share’ you with Geta, only to devolve into threats and shouting once he caught a glimpse of his brother’s triumphant smirk. You would have to spend at least a few hours calming Caracalla after, assuring him that he was your favorite. An act that wouldn’t be hard, because if Geta had some form of decorum, you wouldn’t have to. But, alas, he would certainly take the opportunity to make a snide comment at Caracalla’s expense, leaving you to deal with the aftermath.

You supposed you better get used to it. With the twins' obsession with you — dear god, that shouldn’t make your heart flutter as it did — at its peak, you would be juggling them like a clown on a tightrope. Exhaustion crept into your body, crushing your chest. It was worth it, you told yourself. If using your wiles, that you apparently had, meant helping reform Rome, then so be it. You just so happened to also rather enjoy the company of each man yourself, though no one but you had to know that. Minus the people who already did.

The minutes ticked on, and you were alone like you wanted. Unfortunately, you couldn’t think of anything to do. You could go over your notes, but it would be redundant at this point, and it was far too late to do your rounds. After so long of having friends for the first time in your life, you found yourself at a loss at what to do when you were alone. You had to figure out a way to relax that wasn’t studying or overanalyzing every miserable thought that crossed your mind.

An idea struck you, out of the blue. You were alone, in the dark, snuggled up in your bed. Now would be the perfect time to masturbate if there ever was one. Your gaze flickered to the lock on your door, contemplating. Caracalla could burst in at anytime, but as long as you stayed under the covers, he wouldn’t see your bottom half. With that in mind, you allowed your hands to trail along your abdomen until they rested between your legs. 

You weren’t a particularly horny person. Masturbation was always a clinical act. First, you would pick a fantasy to indulge, followed by allowing the pleasure to build, then you would pick up the pace, leading to a quick and simple orgasm. That was what you were trying to accomplish now. Legs spread apart, with one hand, you fingered yourself, and with the other, you pinched your dick. Testosterone had caused your clit to grow enough so that, with two fingers, you could sort of jerk yourself off. Your skin felt hot, pleasure pricking up your spine as you continued your ministrations.

There was one problem, however. Even as you began to get frustrated, plunging even deeper within yourself in an effort to get off, you couldn’t cum. It was starting to frustrate you. If Caracalla got to finish tonight, but you didn’t, you would go to sleep halfway to the point of livid. 

“Come on,” You muttered. 

This wasn’t fair. The one night you get some time to yourself, you couldn’t even cum? That was ridiculous! As you got angrier, you felt your pleasure begin to wane. You flopped backwards, splayed like a starfish. This was ridiculous. Down the hall was a man who’d do anything to fuck you and you wouldn’t give in. Why? Because you were scared. Caracalla, and subsequently Geta, would find out about your blasted vagina one day. There was no point in holding off anymore. Maybe if you explained yourself, it wouldn’t go over as badly as you thought. 

Pulling up your boxers, you wiped your hand dry on the sheets and padded into the hall. 

Caracalla was bisexual — not that he had any concept of the word. He had both men and women in his harem. For all you knew, he’d be elated to find out you had mismatched parts. The only possibility that caused your determination to plummet was the question of how he would see you. A man, or a woman pretending to be one. Outside of Caracalla’s bedroom — unlike Geta, he didn’t have his own personal office — you stopped in front of the door and shifted from foot to foot. Option two was the worst case scenario, but maybe, if you explained it, he would understand. 

You hoped. 

Driven by the ache between your legs, you stepped inside his bedroom. It was dark, save for the candles illuminating Caracalla’s desk. He sat with his head face down, a broken stylus in his hand. When he heard the door open, he let out an annoyed hiss, only to perk up when he saw it was you.

“Dulcissimus, have you come to entertain me?” 

You closed the door behind you and played with the hem of your shirt. “In a way.”

That got Caracalla’s attention. His eyes roved your body, taking his time on your bare legs, before he focused on your face. “Coming to your Imperator in only your underwear, dulcis? How naughty.” 

“Do you want to have sex?”

Caracalla’s flirtatious demeanor fell under the force of his surprise. His face went slack, eyebrows disappearing into his hairline. He blinked once, then again as a wolfish grin spread across his features. “Do I want to fuck you? Oh, melimelum, what do you think the answer is?”

“I— I do not want you to be disgusted.” Regret made you take a step back. This was a terrible idea. You would ruin the one good gift the universe had ever given you with your rotten body. 

Caracalla watched you, his exasperation palpable. “Oh, yes, your malformed cock. How could I forget?” 

“I should not have come,” You muttered. If you took another step back, you’d be against the door. 

Caracalla stood and gestured to his bed. His tone left no room for argument. “Let me see it.”

“What?”

“You heard me. On the bed, now, dulcis. Spread your legs and show me.”

You should leave. Put this off longer, enjoy your relationship with Caracalla for a little bit more. He snapped his fingers and pointed to the bed again. Unable to stop it, you moved of your own accord, and sat on the bottom edge, near where he was standing. Pleased, he caressed your cheek with his knuckles. “Good, Alga. Lay back and show your Imperator what you’ve been hiding.”

“Do you promise you will not hate me?” You asked as you fumbled with the waistband of your boxers.

Caracalla rolled his eyes. “Yes, now stop being coy and show me.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you pulled down your boxers in one swift motion and exposed yourself to Caracalla for the first time. He was quiet. No movement, no words, he was hardly even breathing. Carefully, you cracked open one of your eyes to see Caracalla’s expression for the first time.

He was staring at you, his jaw slack and eyes wide. Your face erupted in a scorching blush as you closed your legs and scooted back a few inches. “Do you hate me?”

His gaze snapped to your face before returning to your body. Without a word, he crawled forward and placed each of his hands on your knees, forcing your legs apart once more. You let out an embarrassing squeak, watching as an unmistakable grin spread from ear to ear. 

“You are a man with a cunt,” He said with a laugh. Tilting his head towards the ceiling, almost reverently, he slid his hands from your knees to your thighs. “The gods have blessed me on this night!”

“Huh?” 

Whatever response you expected, it wasn’t that. Your head was swimming under a torrent of emotions. Desire, relief, and confusion raged inside of you, all while Caracalla admired your body in its entirety.

A strangled noise ripped from your throat when he flicked your clit. “Look at that, you have a little cock. So sensitive too.” 

Slowly, he dragged his fingers from your dick to your hole. Without warning, he plunged his index and ring fingers inside of you, his palm pressing against your dick. “C— Caracalla!” 

“You even smell like a man too.” He leaned down to take a deep inhale, his eyes rolling back in his head. “How exotic.”

It was hard to speak with how roughly Caracalla began fingerfucking you. Though his hands were small, they were dexterous, finding parts inside you that you didn’t even know you had. Your body felt like it was on fire, back arching with a strangled cry when he went as deep as he could go, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit. Still, you managed to ask, “You see me as a— a man?” 

“Oh, melimelum,” Caracalla sighed, crawling over you to drag his thumb across your cheekbone. With a slick noise, he removed his fingers from you to toy with your dick. Each pinch and stroke sent shivers down your spine. “I’ve seen enough cunts to know when one belongs to a man.”

You couldn’t respond. Mouth agape and a hand over your eyes, you let him do as he pleased. It felt too good not to. He let out a high pitched giggle when you moaned, the squelching from your cunt mingling with the sound of fabric being torn. When you peeked, Caracalla was almost frantically undressing while he focused on shoving a fourth finger inside of you. In his impatience, he had ripped his tunic, though you couldn’t find it in you to scold him. Your gaze fell from his face to his uncut cock, engorged and leaking. It wasn’t long, but it was thick and a little veiny. Your mouth watered as you imagined what it would be like to trace its curves with your tongue.

“Do you see what you have done to me? I’ve never wanted to fuck a hole more in my life!” Fisting himself, he gave himself a few pumps as he lined himself up at your entrance. You could feel your own slick dampening your thighs. Caracalla tried to tease you by only pushing his tip in before letting out a ragged groan, hilting himself in a single thrust. “Fuck! You are so tight. Truly a virgin. I can tell.” 

A keening noise escaped you at how thoroughly he stretched you out. While he didn’t hit deep, he filled you almost entirely, a slight burn mixing in with the ecstasy that threatened to overwhelm you. Covering your face, your breath came in heady pants as Caracalla began to fuck you with vigor. His hips met yours with a loud slap, again and again. You were almost certain your first time should hurt, and it did, in a way. The speed at which Caracalla had penetrated you had stung, but it all paled in comparison to how invigorating having him inside you was. Your heart pounded in tune with the fluttering of your cunt. Above you, Caracalla’s features were slack, his arms holding you open. 

“Harder, please,” You managed to say.

Caracalla snickered, his hands gliding along your stomach to slide up your shirt and paw at your chest. “You’re so— so polite, even as I fuck you. Gods, it makes me want to break you.” 

That sounded more than a little appealing. “Please?”

A particularly violent thrust made your head spin, and Caracalla’s fingers found your dick once more. His grip was rough, almost painful as he started to jerk you off. The sensations were overwhelming. You felt your back arch, your body desperately pushing you as close to him as you could. He managed about two pumps of your little cock before you fell over the edge. 

“Oh, fuck!”

Stars erupted behind your eyelids, and your body went rigid. All you could hear through the blood rushing in your ears was a guttural groan mingled with sharp, proud laughter. 

“That’s it, melimelum. Cum for your Imperator!” He sounded beside himself in triumph, as though he had won a bloody battle or conquered a nation. All he did was bring you to one of the most powerful orgasms of your life. You supposed that was victory enough. Dropping his forearms, he did not stop pistoning his hips, even as your first orgasm faded. You squirmed, the sensations becoming too intense, but Caracalla held you firm. “Don’t run away now, dulcis. I know you like it when I hurt you.”

“Too much,” You whined. 

He licked the drool that seeped from the corners of your lips, crooning out an indulging, “I know. My sweet, obedient Alga can take it, can he not?”

You weren't sure where to put your hands. On his shoulders, tangled in the sheets, or covering your face. Eventually, you settled with splaying your fingers across the planes of his back, the other fisted in the blankets. “I can! Fuck me until I break, Caracalla.”

“Oh, gods, I’m gonna—” He was cut off by a high pitched moan. With one final thrust, he buried himself to the root. Inside you, Caracalla pulsed, painting your insides white with rope after rope of his seed. His hips twitched forward, almost desperate to fit even deeper than he already was. 

Caracalla collapsed on top of you and you wrapped your arms around him. Both of you were sticky with sweat, your skin congealing against each other. 

Against your neck, Caracalla giggled. “I cannot believe all of that nonsense was because you have been blessed with the tightest cunt in the empire.” 

It took you a little bit to find your voice. Between sharp pants, you managed, “I thought you would have never met anyone like me. I thought you would find me gross.”

“Gross?” He lifted his head to gaze into your eyes, still too spent to sit up. “Dulcissimus, you are the man I have dreamed of since I learned how to fuck my hand.”

You hummed, your eyelids beginning to droop. Between your legs, Caracalla was too soft to remain inside of you. His cum began to seep from you, sure to stain the bed. That was tomorrow’s problem, though. “I am relieved.” 

“You are perfect,” He murmured.

Tangled together, you drifted off to sleep, only one thought in your mind.

After all that angsting, Caracalla found you to be the most wonderous man to walk the earth, parts and all. If you were any less exhausted, you’d punch a hole through marble. 

A/N: Oh my god, I hate writing smut. Why do I do this to myself… Trust that a majority of the Caracalla and Alga sex scene was written in the cracker aisle of Dollar General midshift. Yes, I was in public. It needed to get written ans I’m not off again until Monday, so Inhad to do what I had to do. We march on. I do think it’s really funny that Alga was like please break me and Caracalla INSTANTLY nutted. Sorry my green-haired friend, he’s gotta recover from that one before he can really put in the work again. I do hope that I was able to do justice to what I like to call ‘gender affirming sex.’ Making it hot while also geting done what I needed to get done for the story was, um, hard to say the least. I’m not actually on testosterone myself. I hope I did the illustrious tdick justice.

Speaking of which, I did a poll on my blog a few days ago about Alga’s period. Whether it would never come back, if it would return but is only mentioned in passing, or if I give them a BAD one and force everyone to suffer through it. Because you know damn well the twins’ weird asses would be bizarre about the whole thing, LMFAO. The bad period won.

Now, onto Geta’s uptight ass. I love how he is such a hypocrite. He complains about how Caracalla is ruining Alga’s reputation and then proceeds to take a wrecking ball to it. In all honesty, he probably just didn’t want to see Caracalla and Alga perform PDA in front of his salad. I also haven’t mentioned it aside from a few times, but I did again this chapter. Geta is an animal hater. If he had a pet it’d be a big ass snake, and it’d be the one thing on earth he spoils aside from his partner. You’d catch him cooing to it and he’d throw the closest object he can find at you. He’s so embarrassing.

I actually don’t have a lot to say this chapter. I feel like everything was pretty self explanatory, though I’d be more than happy to answer any questions! Also, I’m trying to speed run my formatting, including this A/N, so I can post soon. I have work today, sigh. Please, please tell me what you thought of these occurrences in the comments, or perhaps, my ask box if you want to be anonymous. I had a lot of fun writing this one! Raaaaaaahhhhh, thank you for reading, stay frosty!!!!! <333

tag list: @snazzynacho , @t6gse370 , @cherrysweets-world , @justlibra , @001mon

[viinchester]

Dexter :: Masterlist

Welcome to my Masterlist for all things I've created regarding the TV Show “Dexter”! I will try to keep this as updated as possible.

Click here for my Main Masterlist

━╍═══════════════╍━

× Contents ×

Last Updated On

Requests

🌶️ ☔ 💥 🧸 🕳️ 🎭 🔞

Writing Masterlist

Gifs Masterlist

Tag List

━╍═══════════════╍━

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

1. Last Updated On

September 23, 2024

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

2. Requests

Requests are OPEN for the following characters:

Dexter Morgan

Brian Moser/Rudy Cooper

You can try to request something for characters that aren't on this list as well, however it's much less likely that I'll actually write for them.

On how or what to request, please check out My Main Post About Requesting!

3. 🌶️ ☔ 💥 🧸 🕳️ 🎭 🔞

I use one or more of the 7 emojis to give you a better understanding of what the content involves. Here's a guide on what they mean:

🌶️ ➞ Smut, usually contains sexual content and/or physical intimacy

☔ ➞ Angst, usually contains emotional pain of some kind and/or evokes sadness/melancholy

💥 ➞ Action/Violence, usually contains fast-paced events and/or physical conflict, often with graphic descriptions

🧸 ➞ Fluff, usually contains feel-good situations with a focus on comfort and/or affection

🕳️ ➞ Dark Stuff, usually contains heavy, disturbing, and potentially triggering topics (Mental illness, (sexual) abuse, trauma, etc.)

🎭 ➞ Drama, usually contains intense emotional shifts and/or emotional turmoil, with moments of tension, conflict, and/or resolution

🔞 ➞ Mature Content, usually contains explicit content that is not suitable for minors (Graphic sexual scenes, extreme violence, mature themes, and/or other adult-oriented material)

‼️ These emojis are only to give you a quick overview, please still read the warnings on each story to make sure they're suitable for you ‼️

4. Writing Masterlist

Brian Moser/Rudy Cooper:

✒ Haunted Reflections

☔💥🔞(🕳️🎭)

Summary: You head to your routine appointment for a readjustment of your prosthetic leg at the Miami prosthetics clinic. This time, however, you are met with Rudy Cooper instead of your usual doctor. Unbeknownst to you, his dark secrets lie hidden beneath the surface, and you’ve unwittingly captured his undivided attention and care.

Warnings: References to Violence and Murder, mentions of Stalking, Trauma (related to losing a limb & violent incidents), Obsessive Thoughts, Unhealthy Behavior, graphic descriptions in thoughts of Gore (Violence, Bloodshed, a bit of Body Mutilation), Moral Ambiguity (we're talking about Brian Moser here, hello?), Insults (like a single word lol), mentions of Drugs (two sentences, nothing about taking them), mentions of Death

Word Count: 3.271

×

✒ Shape Of You

🌶️ 🕳️🔞(☔)

Summary: Brian takes care of your injury after you've taken a nasty fall, however you can't help but feel like something's off about the situation. Unaware of his dark thoughts and oblivious to the deeper manipulation at play, you clear your mind by focussing on his comforting presence, and things quickly get heated.

Warnings: Mentions of an injury and that it's being taken care of (nothing too graphic), Depictions of Sexual Content (Minors DNI!), Rough/Intense Sexual Content, could be considered Dubcon by coercion (not really imo, but just to be on the safe side), Themes of Possession and Objectification

Word Count: 3.271

⊸

Dexter Morgan:

✒ Nothing yet

5. Gifs Masterlist

⏯ Nothing yet

6. Tag List

I don't have a tag list yet. If you want to be tagged in the future for anything specifically (all writings for a specific character for example), feel free to let me know and I'll create one and put you on it!🙏🏼💞

[niko-jpeg]

WE HAVE THE SKY

In collaboration with @sthbigbang , @tsubomiiiii , @toadstool32 , @littlelazygoblin , and @shrimpisdrawing

Word count: 55,000~

Description: After the Metal Virus is all sorted out, Silver is excited to return to a home he only ever got to dream of, in a safe and happy future.

Unfortunately for him, fate has other plans as he finds himself wrapped up in a very large misunderstanding as the believed ‘messiah’ of his time, destined of save the world. He has no understanding of his pre-established role in the world, or in his (apparently very alive) family, or if this is really the future he fought so hard to secure. Even with the help of a much older Shadow and his ghostly companion, he isn’t sure if there is a way to set things right, or most importantly: if it’s even his place to do so.

Ao3 - Google Docs <pending>

Betas: @whisker-biscuit and @lethalbreadkills

Tsubo’s Piece [Cover, Possible Spoiler Warning]

Tiny’s Piece [Chapter Two Scene]

Maya’s Piece [Title, possible spoiler warning]

Goblin’s Piece [Comic Adaptation]

Additional Art:

Goblin’s Casual Doodles!

Tsubo’s Concept Art and References!

Tiny’s ADDITIONAL Piece!!!

Maya’s Drawing of Peepaw and His Husband (Shadow and Sonic)

Misc Concept Doodles (Niko)

Bronze and Dr Foam Meme (Niko)

Dr Foam in Another Timeline (Niko)

So what ever became of Sonic and Shadow…? (Niko)

Dear Silver, (Niko)

Mephiles Doodles (Niko)

Fake Reality (Niko)

Misplaced (Niko)

Dr Foam Didn’t Start Evil (Niko)

Character Bios (Niko)

Black Arms Sonic Doesn’t Like Dr Foam. Neither Does Ghost Sonic! (CattyAnon & Niko)

Remind Mephiles Never to Play Monopoly With Mortals Again

Please check out the #We Have the Sky tag to see the rest! There’s tons to sift through!

[greenstripedcat]

Fanfic recommendations

I've been reading (a little too much) fanfiction since I became obsessed with Phantom early in winter, and since AO3 doesn't really have convenient folder management system, I'll use this as an excuse to (somewhat) systematise what I've read so far. Almost all the stories are multichapter bar a couple; I've tried to tag the authors I know are on tumblr, but if you spot anyone not tagged, please let me know and I'll edit it.

_________________

Unsung - wheel of fish @wheel-of-fics (I don't even know what to say, by far the best PotO fic I've ever read, one of the best fics full stop, I loved it so much, this is what happened after the ALW musical events, and not LND, as far as I'm concerned) Red death riding (highwayman AU that had me singing Loreena McKennitt's rendition of 'Highwayman' for ages, and get the British Library's book on notorious highwaymen of the past; in progress), Out of the woods (modern AU with Erik as a US vet - a good mix of mystery, romance, sadness and sweetness), A Lasting spring (set post ALW events, Erik x Original character, Josephine, whom I utterly adore) - all absolutely great stories by wheel of fish @wheel-of-fics  Battered dove - Battydings @battydings (another modern AU with Christine as a drug addict, angsty, well-written and all around a good story; I'm surprised how much I enjoy modern AUs for this ship in general, and not so surprising, but still interesting how many different shades the kidnapping plot can play out within this pair; personally, as long as it steers clear of Fowles' "Collector" dynamic with the collector's empty loveless need to possess someone as a pretty trinket, I'm very interested in exploring it) Like and Subscribe - ShameWithoutSin (a perfect modern AU with Leroux-leaning Erik, who kidnaps Christine, and is absolutely terrified of her; in progress) Scarlet as a rose - MultiColoredRosePetals (the most fanfic-y story on the list, but very sweet, and perhaps fits the tropes that push my buttons specifically) Between the Lines - Les_gnossiennes @les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques (the hottest story ever, Leroux compliant in the best way possible) Tristan and Isolde - catcorsair @catcorsair (Erik/Sorelli oneshot: attractive, raw, leaves something hole shaped in my chest upon finishing; this author's works in general are in equal parts batshit crazy and hot) Sympathy - ashadeintheshade @ashadeintheshade (Veterinary doc Christine modern AU; shortest one on this list, and quite perfect in every way) Home for Christmas - Not A Ghost3 @notaghost3 (a sweet Christmas strangers-stranded-in-the-snowstorm and there-was-only-one-bed story; in progress) Pilgrim Soul - Mertens (just to finish off with something angsty with a happy ending (most of Christine/Erik stories I read tbh), a 70s nurse Christine AU inspired by a b&w film Voice of the Whistler - it's always extra fun for me when fics get me to go and watch a film or read poetry or learn something new like BSL - which I was 'prodded' to do by two different fics aready!)

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Future reading list (for my own reference, but perhaps someone else might find useful): City of angels (ashadeintheshade), Fly Agaric (Les gnossiennes), A Stroll on Sunday (Antiquarianne) (completely random, but I read somewhere that Lindsay Ellis referred to this fic at some point - I don't know how accurate it is; anyway, as her phantom videos were part of my gateway to phandom, it adds to the interest for me), By Starlight (wheel_of_fish), Like Pulling Teeth (catcorsair), So Fair a Gift (bespin_clouds), Regret Like Tears (FieryPen37), Soft Place to Fall (ponderinfrustration), What Happens in Vegas (ShameWithoutSin), Gustave Daae's daughter (Mertens), The Nanny (Mertens), The Eater (Battydings), Made of Stone (Morrigan24601), All the things yet to come (Comet19) These works seem interesting, but I'm scared of how long they are: Shadow Government (Quiet2885), Fraternité (Gondolier), Новые звуки (Жаворонок87)

What phantom has brought me (apart from the community of friends and like-minded people): I'm slowly learning BSL (slowly seems to describe a lot of my activities nowadays), signing up for French starting next academic year, if I'm still as enthusiastic about this; and now have a desire to sew a costume myself, although with this one I'm completely out of my depths, and it will likely stay as a long-lasting wish either forever, or at least for a very long time. Ah, also quite a few films added to the watchlist, poetry (it seems poto authors are particularly partial to Yeats) and, of course, classic (and-not-so-classic) music! You guys had me listening to Satie's Gnossiennes, Gluk's Orfeo ed Euridice, múm and lots of Bach as of late.

[slayerkitty]

The DFF Experience: A Dead Friend Forever Fandom Round Up (Part 1*)

I had the wild idea of compiling links to all the various metas, theories, and other resources for DFF for everyone to use so that links and information were kind of all in one place. I dragged @shannankle along for the ride, and we combed through the tag to find all the things we could.

We most likely have missed something even though we tried to be as thorough as possible - if you think there is something we over looked that should be added let us know in the replies or the tags; if you write meta or other resource posts in the future, please tag us and we can add it to the post.

With that, please enjoy The DFF Experience!

Media: 

Official Trailer

Pre-Release/Pilot Trailer

Behind The Scenes

No More Dream - Barcode

Without Me - Bump

Por's RIP? Pic by @having-conniptions

Reviews: 

Dead Friend Forever is More Than Just A 90s Slasher Film Imitation by @syrena-del-mar

Dead Friend Forever is a Marvel of Mystery Writing by @lurkingshan

Phee, Jin, And A Masterful Misdirect by @lurkingshan

Fun Facts to Know and Tell: 

Non refers to his brother New as “P’New” during his argument with his parents in episode 8, confirming that New is the older of the two. 

White refers to Por as P’Por when he’s alone confirming he is younger and not lying about his age

Character Profiles by @raelle-writing

Based on screenshots, White and Phee do not go to the same school as the embroidery is different. 

Fuaiz says White’s parents are rich and engineers

What the Characters Know and Don't Know (As of Episode 9) by @raelle-writing

Actor Reveals About The Characters by @raelle-writing

Theories (Episodes 1-8):

Not Jin’s Video Theory by @raelle-writing

Not Jin’s Laptop Theory by @raelle-writing

Hints at the timeline/dates things happen by @yellingaboutkp

Why Uncle Dang Was Killed by @befuddledcinnamonroll

Is Jin final girl? by @blismytherapy

Non is dead (dead men tell no tales) by @mikuni14

Why So Many Maskys? by @slayerkitty

Tan is New by @tbhimnoteasyonmyself

Are The Boys Being Drugged (Are you High, Top?) by @italianpersonwithashippersheart

Non isn’t dead (alive men tell tales) by @respectthepetty

Theories (Episode 9-10):

Why Jin Sees Keng by @raelle-writing

Is Phee Still Playing Jin (Play On, Player?) by @yellingaboutkp

What's Up With White's Hallucinations? by @jeffsatyr with contributions by @italianpersonwithashippersheart

Tan is Going to Turn on Phee (and other upcoming episode theories) by @slayerkitty

Non Isn’t Dead (alive men tell tales, but they don’t change their clothes) by @subtextsays

Phi is on Tan's Hitlist by @respectthepetty

Non is Alive (Only Alive Men Tell Tales in Telenovelas) by @babyangelsky

Non is the Hidden Character And In This Essay I Will - by @babyangelsky

On The Episode 10 Preview by @crysta1ized

Non is Alive (Alive Men Tell Tales When They Paint in Grayscale) by @yellingaboutkp

Gas Mask for Masky? by @biochemjess

On What Tan Sees by @raelle-writing

Will Phee Tell Jin the Truth? by @mikuni14

How Much is a Hallucination and How Much is Real by @babyangelsky with contributions by @respectthepetty and @shannankle

White is the Mastermind by @sniggerwarning

Top's Scar and Masky on Crutches by @subtextsays

DFF Theory Time by @squishysquadstuff

Theories About White by @crysta1ized

Ninth Person Theory by @raelle-writing

Hallucination or Real? by @raelle-writing

Non is Alive for Now (Alive men tell tales if they're about to kick the bucket) by @harurio

A Scream/DFF Parallel Theory on Who's Behind the Mask by @crysta1ized

Tree Mark Theory by @babyangelsky

Episode 11 Preview Theory by @crysta1ized

New and the Antidote by @respectthepetty

White-Non Theory by @crysta1ized

*Due to the number links and mentions the round up is now four(!) posts. Please see Part 2 here, Part 3 here and Part 4 here.

[janearts]

ASDLKFJADKJ I love how you two immediately jumped to 'ok but like... is he #4 material?' (For those wondering, "What The Hell Is A #4?", the answer is linked here for reference.)

(The way to a woman's heart is through her favourite animal, obviously.)

Halsin is very much Roisia's type physically—aka large and in charge—and he has character traits that she would be attracted to: he's kind and compassionate, strong-willed and decisive, gentle and slow to anger, and in possession of a wry sense of humour and a keen intellect. So, yes, in that regard, Halsin definitely stands next to Wyll on the "suitable suitor to bring home" list. Top tier. Well done.

Additional rambling thoughts below the cut.

The trouble with Roisia when it comes to matters of the heart is that she unwittingly looks at a person, thinks she knows their true desires, can play out their combined future in her head, and judge them as compatible or incompatible without questioning her basic assumptions about that person. So, for example, Roisia would in many ways find Halsin an ideal romantic partner. And then, she would get into her own head. Like so:

Halsin is an archdruid. An elf accustomed to leading a notoriously outdoorsy lifestyle in a grove. Roisia is going to someday inherit an entire funerary business and wants to stay in Baldur's Gate, known for being not-at-all grove-like. Surely Mr. Outdoorsman will feel cooped up and miserable in a city if he thought the Grove was too comfortable for his tastes. Incompatible!

Halsin is all about the Natural Order of Things. Balance. Guess who disrupts said natural order when she takes dead things and reanimates them? Roisia. Roisia does. So they're at opposite ends of an ideological spectrum. Incompatible!

He's an elf; she's a human. They are on two different timelines as regards their lifespan. Unless Roisia can guarantee her own extended lifespan in a way that preserves the flesh on her bones in addition to her bones, she wants to grow with her #4 and not outpace her #4. Incompatible!

Again, these are assumptions that Roisia would make about Halsin, and I think she would ultimately write him off as a potential #4 more out of fear of some future rejection down the line than of Halsin necessarily explicitly confirming any of these assumptions to be true OR as relationship dealbreakers if they were. I want to shout out to @gracelessrogue for their tags:

It would not occur to Roisia that she could bond with a druid and a healer over life and death. If she would only think to challenge her own baseline assumptions about what she thinks she knows about the people she's travelling with, I think she would see the ways in which she could nurture long-term romantic connections with one or multiple of our possible companions.

Because, as it is, I think the larger issue is that Roisia would write off not just Halsin, but all the current known companions as not being a good fit for her #4. I don't think she would look at any of them and say: 'This person would stay with me in the city of Baldur's Gate and be totally, completely comfortable and content in a house with bodies in the basement, my skeleton father roaming the halls, and a graveyard right out back.'

Granted, it's still only Act 1/EA, but that's just a real bummer.