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yellowjestertfs · 1 year ago

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The Billionaires Secret

“Hi there. Find what what you were looking for?” I ask in my customary upbeat yet soul-dead customer service voice.

“I think so. Going to give this one a try.” She says handing me a copy of a book called The Billionaire’s Secret from the romance section. I can see why she picked it, on the cover a man in a suit lay on a bed with the buttons of his dress shirt undone showing off his impressive six-pack and strong hairless chest. Brownish red eyes smolder seductively outwards from a masculine face. High cheekbones, soft lips, and a wide square jaw adorned with black stubble that connects to a short-styled head of black hair.

“I’m Bridget by the way,” she says, obviously a bit embarrassed to see me eying up the cover. “Oh, and this is Dan.” She says gesturing at the man standing a few paces away, engrossed by some mobile game on his phone.

“Nice to meet you, Bridget.” I scan the book. “That will be $17,” I say.

She glances over at Dan, he doesn't seem to notice so she retrieves her credit card from her purse and taps it against the machine. “I don’t know why I expected him to offer.” She tells me in a conspiratorial whisper “He’s broke. I mean not that it matters to me, but it would just be nice to date a wealthy man or one who at least pays attention to me.”

Customers often confided in me. I wish I could say it is because of my open honest face or charismatic demeanor but it probably had more to do with a book I once ate about a bartender people told all their secrets to.

I look around. There are a few consumers browsing the book shelves and my manager is sitting at his desk in the back, no one close enough to notice. Bridget seems sweet, too sweet to be with a man like Dan. Poor girl just wants to escape with some fiction, so why not indulge her a little.

“Did you get a chance to check out our books on sale?” I ask Bridget diverting her attention away. She looks over at the shelf I pointed at giving me enough time to crack my knuckles, take a deep breath, and begin.

I place my hands over the cover of the book and it springs open, the pages start to turn themselves slow at first then speed up. Words start to flow from the book as the pages flip past. The letters lift from the page like a sticker being peeled, floating into the air to spin around me. They form a cyclone of black ink as the pages that flip by are left blank.

I feel the lines as they flow off the paper. The first line reads. “Kustav tower is 400 stories tall, rumor has it, it’s smaller than Dane Kustav’s dick.”

I directed the words towards Bridget’s boyfriend. The ink splashes into him, absorbing into his gray hoodie but leaving no mark. None except for the fact that his basketball shorts start to thrash like a wild animal is trapped inside. Dan didn't look up from his phone even as his dick doubled and then tripled in size to match the one described in the book Billionaires Secrets.

I tried to be sparing with my abilities. Fiction is great so long as it stays fiction, otherwise you have evil robots or sparkly vampires running around. Still, every once in a while my heroic urges will take over and I am called to help someone with my power to bring words to life. Bridget is one of those people.

More words flowed off the page. “Dane Kustav is well dressed at all times. One would be hard-pressed to ever see Dane not in a suit. If one did see him without a suit, it would be in the bedroom where they would be very, very hard pressed indeed.”

The words spin around me once then drift over to Dan again on an invisible wind. This time his clothes were affected by the words. His grey hoodie which he wore with the hood up, melted off his body, the threads unwinding then rebinding themselves into a far higher quality dress shirt and black jacket complete with a blue tie. His shorts became black dress pants and his sneakers a pair of brown loafers. The outline of his much larger dick was clear in his new tighter pants. A few seconds passed with no changes then, slowly his tie undid itself and each of the buttons on his dress shirt opened so that he was sporting a matching look to that of the man on the cover of the book. Unlike the cover, however, Dan lacked the chiseled face or body to pull off the open shirt. His slight gut and saggy, hairy chest made the outfit look awkward rather than sexy.

Bridget looked up from the sale rack and glanced at her half-nude boyfriend with a chagrined glance. In her mind, he was always dressed in the finest clothes even if he still acted like a man-child.

“Dane Kustav towered over everyone be that in stature or in business.”

I directed the words into him. Dan shot upwards, his modest 5’10” frame becoming a proud 6’3”, clothes growing to match. And though it wasn’t visible Dan’s head was also filled with business smarts he had lacked before. The game on his phone shifted from Fruit Ninja to Hey Day.

The pages continue to flip, their words leaving the page to float in the air under my command.

“Dane Kustav's muscles were like that of a brass statue, smooth, hard, and golden. Each curve could only have been sculpted by the hands of an artist for nature could never make anybody so perfect.”

I look over at Dan’s soft pudgy body. Not the words I would use to describe him, at least not yet. I float the sentence to him.

Instantly Dan’s belly flattens. One by one his abs pop into being as if pushed out from the inside like one of those pop-it toys. His man boobs visibly transmute from fat to muscle, perking up and then growing into a strong chest like that of the man on the cover of the book. Inside the sleeves of his dress shirt, his arms thicken into a pair of round vascular biceps while his legs below do the same. A tan, like oil spreading over water seeps across his body until his exposed muscles really looked like sculpture bronze turned to life. The few hairs that had looked sloppy before now lent his body a rugged masculinity.

Bridget looks at her boyfriend with a new lust. Her hands start to roam his abs and chest but Dan, still on his phone, only bats them away.

Man-child indeed, a man in the body, a child in the face and the personality. I divert my attention back to the flipping pages looking for words I could use to fix that. The book is reaching the end, and the main character, assistant to the billionaire, has finally seduced her boss in a very steamy scene. High-class writing it is not, but at least it gives me plenty to work with.

“I ran my hand down his sharp square jaw.”

I throw the words at him. The shape of his face shifts to be more masculine.

“He looked at me through squinted sexy amber eyes.”

His eyes shift from a pale blue to an amber so rich it almost looked red. He finally looks up from his phone and deep into Bridget's eyes. She returns the stare with a smile.

“He brought my hand up to his cheek, I felt each bristle of his short sharp stubble.”

Dan moves Bridget's fingers up to his face which is now covered in a sexy two days' worth of growth.

“Then he kissed me with his soft sensual lips hard enough to make me weak in the knees.”

The words flow off the page and into him. His lips grow pillowy and pink and interlocked with Bridget’s. He wraps his muscular arms around her, keeping her steady as she collapses into him.

“I warp my fingers into his jet-black quaffed hair as I prepare for him to take me.”

His hair gains a stylish cut and is dark as pitch, body hair and stubble do the same. Bridget greedily runs her hand through his new dark dew.

“He smelled like sports deodorant, woody cologne, and sex. I wanted nothing more than this man to take me.”

The bookstore fills with his scent. I am surprised to find myself turned on by the whole thing. I have reached the end of the book, the final page.

“It was then that I learned the billionaire's secret.”

This was the good stuff. I leech the words off the page and send them to Dan, or rather now, Dane.

“His secret wasn’t that he was hot, or rich, or could make any girl swoon.”

Their kiss intensifies. Dane started to undo Bridget's blouse.

“No, the billionaire's secret was.”

Suddenly Dane pulls away.

“The billionaire was gay.”

“Sorry Bridget,” Dane says taking a few steps back and looking at her with sudden realization. “I don’t think I can do this.”

His eyes wander over to lock onto mine, rich amber orbs seeming to really take me in. He winks. “You thought, I think that could work. What are you doing after this?” He asks smoothly “Want to go get coffee in Paris on my jet? My treat.”

#male tf #male transformation #musclegrowth #straight to gay #tf

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anincompletelist-etc · 4 months ago

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hello and welcome to modern / unconventional epistolary prompts! :D

epistolary works are most typically known as correspondence of some sort between characters, but can be any form of records or documents! they can be a fun way to explore more about the character(s) you're writing and get to know them better, and to add a creative element to your work that's able to entertain readers while also revealing details relevant to the plot.

here are some general ideas, formats, plot lines, and literature inspo!

emails

texts

direct & instant messaging / social media

music playlists / songs

work or academic means of communication (like Slack, Google Docs, etc.)

pen pals

dating apps

customer support lines and/or complaint departments

birthday cards / postcards / letters

secret codes or scavenger hunts (scenarios in which you must solve a mystery or collect all of the necessary pieces before the message(s) is revealed)

grocery lists or to-do lists

written on the body / tattoos

telepathy

+ some more interesting formats!

written in the form of an academic essay(s) with written feedback, or a document that has been annotated by someone

newspaper clippings

told through photos (or typed descriptions of photos)

a transcript / manuscript / stenograph

audio recordings (voicemails, radio, podcasts, voice notes/messages, recording devices like tapes, etc.)

search history

online quizzes

short answer forms

dossiers

maps

lipograms

personal notes / journal entries

prescriptions

invoices

here's also some social platforms that might offer different landscapes for communication:

Tumblr! :D (posts & messaging)

Reddit (posts & messaging)

Twitter (tweets & dm's)

Instagram (photo sharing & dm's)

buying and selling sites like E-bay or Facebook Marketplace

YouTube

(p.s. if you're writing on ao3, you can find some of the skins for different social sites or formats here and here for a start!)

letters that devolve or change over time

letters that at first appear to be between two characters but are later revealed to be written by only one person

letters that are left for one another at/in a physical location or exchanged in person (bonus points if communication between the characters is higher stakes (frowned upon/unexpected/forbidden))

multi character / group scenarios with the above prompts, or a - known or unknown - third party stumbles upon the correspondence and changes the dynamic (the character voices must be more distinct so the reader knows who's speaking -- unless keeping it a mystery serves the plot!)

+ some books & literature that feature epistolary style elements for further inspiration or reading!

Several People are Typing by Calvin Kasulke

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone

Things Have Gotten Worse Since We Last Spoke by Eric Larocca

Ella Minnow Pea by Mark Dunn

Dear Martin by Nic Stone

The Appeal by Janice Hallett

Meet Me at The Museum by Anne Youngson

The Color Purple by Alice Walker

House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski

please feel free to reblog with your own ideas, recs, or tips!

#writing tips #epistolary #writing prompts #creative writing #writeblr #ao3 #creative writing prompts #fanfic #my prompts

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librarycards · 2 months ago

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hi, do you have any tips on discovering new books to read in general? i've been really wanting to get back into reading lately, but am not sure where to begin; right now i'm most interested in recently released nonfiction, and have gotten some titles that interest me by browsing bookstore websites, but i feel like there's gotta be a better way to do this lol

i do have tips! growing up, i often did the same thing - i'd sit down with house md in the background on my shitty chunky overheating toshiba laptop, scrolling every single page of barnes and noble dot com. it is definitely not a particularly effective form of discovery!

here are some other methods that can help:

sign up for lit mag/small press newsletters. you can discover new books via book reviews and interviews, as well as other publicity materials, posted on these sites - Electric Lit, LitHub / Book Marks, and Locus are great places to discover new books.

Goodreads and Storygraph. I am very active on Goodreads, and have a bunch of friends who are also active if you need a place to start in terms of who to follow. After that, check the reviews of books you're interested in to see who's reviewing thoughtfully and consistently.

Re: the above, Goodreads also has lists, which were super useful when I was first figuring out my own taste in books. You can go to the page of a book you like and see which lists it's on –– stay away from generic "best books ever" lists, because those are massive and useless. Look for shorter, genre-specific lists like "best queer autofiction" or "20th century avant-garde" or something like that.

Sign up for Libby –– you can use your local library card. If you don't have one, sign up! If you don't have physical library access, try a virtual card with the Queer Liberation Library. Many branches also have ways for young people to get virtual cards, especially if you live in a u.s. state with a lot of book bans. Libby has a way to sort books by new arrivals, as well as featured collections of books on a certain theme.

lastly, and most importantly, go to your local indie bookstore. go on a non-busy day/time, like the mid-morning on a weekday. they will likely have some staff picks somewhere, but ALSO, just go up to the person at the counter if they're not busy and ask what they recommend. tell them a few books you've enjoyed, the vibes you're looking for, etc. booksellers literally fucking love this shit. people do not open or work at indie bookstores for the money. they do it because they are obsessed with buying, selling, recommending, and being around books. THEY WANT TO HELP YOU!! and they can give you amazing ideas + you can give them the satisfaction of having hand-sold a fav book to a new customer.

i hope this helps!! happy reading!

#ask #reading #anonymous

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year ago

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Hello Lady Raven! How do you do? I hope you're having a good day.

I was looking stalking at your blog when I saw your post which contained a world map of the game. This made me really curious: what informations do we have about the countries, kingdoms and other lands that appear in the map? Specially the Land of Dawning, Sunshine Lands and Kingdom of Heroes. Does the world of Twist have other lands that do not appear in the map? Are the shaftlands some sort of Twist Europe (as in; a bunch of countries that signed a agreement to be sort of unified)? And what is that big empty land north of the shaftlands?

I'm really curious about the countries and their cultures in the Twist world, I feel like we don't really have a lot of info on them, and as someone that really loves geography and history, that makes me a bit sad 😂.

I hope you're healthy, thank you for your time!

Oh, the map from this post?

Hello, hello!

Unfortunately, I don’t think I’m able to compile ALL lore we have on all available countries, cities, and towns into a single post (especially when there’s a lot of other questions that have also been posed + need answering in your ask). That’s way too large of a scope for a single post. I did compile lots of food/related lore here if you want to take a look, as I find the food and food customs in a region say a lot about its culture and history. (Plus, I’m just very interested in food!)

If you’re curious about each location, you can find the bulk of information yourself in related hometown events—however, tons of lore tidbits are also dropped in non-hometown events (ex: Floyd talks about land training camp in the second beans day event), voice lines (ex: Dorm Uniform Leona says that in his home land, scars are seen as signs of bravery), and vignettes (ex: In Jade’s School Uniform vignette, Kalim talks about how serving very sweet tea is a luxurious way to welcome guests to your home in the Scalding Sands). There’s lots out there if you’re willing to search for it!!

Please be aware that we haven’t visited most of the areas on the map, so we are still missing a lot of information on them. The Land of Dawning, Sunshine Lands, and the Kingdom of Heroes are particularly lacking in information. They’ve been mentioned offhandedly every so often. Platinum Jacket vignettes feature the boys visiting the National Museum of Art in the Land of Dawning, and there are sometimes bits of lore which mention these lands. The Mermaid Princess that strengthened the bond between merpeople and humans married a prince from the Sunshine Lands, I believe. In his Broomquet card, Idia says there is a place called “Hydra Valley” in the Kingdom of Heroes (which probably is a reference to the place Hercules defeated the hydra at). Finally, Crowley went with Idia’s parents to the Land of Dawning with to discuss important matters yet to be explained to us. The Land of Dawning is also referenced in a call for evacuation in book 7.

The map you see above is definitely incomplete. We don’t see several vital spots marked even though we’ve visited them: the City of Flowers/Fleur City, the Scalding Sands (and Silk City), Clock Town, Fairest City, the Land of Swords, Dawn City, and more. Heck, the continent that contains Briar Valley isn’t even labeled but somehow Briar Valley itself is. We cannot tell if this is even the entire world map or just a portion of it, since Lilia describes “a land to the east”/the Land of the Crimson Long, but the most eastward locations depicted seem to be the Queendom and the Afterglow Savanna. I definitely feel like there has to be more to it than what we currently see.

I would caution against saying that “[TWST location] = irl location” as even though there are oftentimes strong parallels or inspirations drawn between the two, they shouldn’t be conflated for one another. TWST often forms cultures of its own or borrows from many inspirations to create these places and to present them to us. Comparisons can be made, but let’s remain cautious to not veer too much into that since there’s no clear 1:1. For example, the Shaftlands could be interpreted as “twisted Europe”, but not really because the area often considered “twisted Britain” (which is a part of Europe) is seemingly separated and located on the other side of the map. And then you notice that this “twisted Britain” has a collection of islands that very much resembles irl Japan, an eastern country. So… in essence, sure, the City of Flowers/Fleur City resembles Paris, Fairest City feels very European and German, and Harveston is a blend of Nordic inspirations, but at the end of the day, they’re their own thing.

We don’t know what the land right above the Shaftlands is as of right now. For all we know, it could just be even more of the Shaftlands since the country seems to be a large expanse of land with variable weather depending on the region.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #question #Floyd Leech #Jade Leech #Tweels #Kalim Al-Asim #Leona Kingscholar #Dire Crowley #Hercules #Idia Shroud

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diana-fortyseven · 6 months ago

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Yuletide Reading Bingo

The 2024 Yuletide collection is about to be revealed, and many of us love to read more than just our own gifts and treats.

If gamification is your thing, why not enhance your Yuletide reading experience with a fun challenge?

Yuletide Reading Bingo Yuletide Reading Bingo 2024 (permanent link to the 2024 version) Yuletide Reading Bingo 2023 (permanent link to the 2023 version)

With this bingo card generator, you can generate your own Yuletide Reading Bingo Card and try to finish it over a timespan of your choice. If you like, you can challenge yourself to not only reading the fics, but also commenting on them. Last year, I saw people making reclists based on their bingo cards, which is such a cool idea to keep track of the fics they read for each square.

There are no fanfic/fandom/Yuletide-negative or bashing items in the lists. This bingo card is meant to be a positive experience and celebrate fanfiction and fanworks in general and Yuletide in specific.

Details and screenshot of the mobile version under the cut!

Have a lovely Yuletide and a happy Hanukkah or merry Christmas if you celebrate. <3

How to Play

Generate a new bingo card until you're (mostly) happy with the results. If some fields are duplicates or contain items you don't want to have in your card, you can then re-roll every single bingo field separately by clicking/tapping on it. Once you have a card that fits your reading habits (or that takes you out of your comfort zone, if you want to challenge yourself), take a screenshot of the card to keep it.

Closing the page and reloading it will reset the card.

Cross off the bingo fields on your screenshot as you read (or read and comment on) fics that you think count for a field.

Items like "Fandom with over 500 works" mean works in the fandom tag, not in the collection. There are specific versions for the number of works in the collection. Items like "Fandom with over 1,000 works" doesn't mean qualifying works. There are specific versions for the number of qualifying works. Items like "Highest number of hits in fandom" or similar however mean in this collection, not in the fandom tag.

If a work you read has a tag that's similar but not identical to a tag on your card, let it count. There were some almost-duplicates that I trimmed.

The Lists

Canon (options like canon released this year, book fandom, etc)

Category (the AO3 categories and their platonic versions: F/F, F & F Gen, etc)

Challenge (the unofficial mini-challenges like Yuleporn, Crueltide, Wrapping Paper, etc)

Creator (only if you checked the "After Reveals" box; options like favourite author, mutuals, etc)

Discovery (various ways you could've found a fic)

Fandom (options like previously ineligible fandom, uncategorised fandom)

Length (wordcounts from drabble to 30k)

Meta (a fic's front-end and stats, also "citrus scale for rating" xD)

Reader (your relationship with the fic; is it your comfort fic, or your first fic in a fandom?)

Style (chatfic, iambic pentameter, custom workskin, stuff like that)

Tag (roughly 1,800 tags from the 2024 main collection; Madness tags to be added)

Trope (roughly 100 tropes)

What do the Checkboxes Mean?

NSFW is basically what it says on the tin. If you tick this box, the NSFW tropes will be added to the mix. If you also ticked the Tags box, NSFW tags will be added.

Tags is also what it says on the tin. It's a list with currently roughly 1,800 tags from the Yuletide 2024 main collection. Around 270 of them are currently marked NSFW and can only be generated if you ticked both the NSFW box and the Tags box.

After Reveals includes items that only make sense after creator reveals, such as "work by last year's recipient" or "creator is your Tumblr mutual".

Leaving the NSFW checkbox unchecked should remove all NSFW tags and tropes, but you could still come across content you find objectionable. Leaving the Tags checkbox unchecked removes all tags, but you could still come across tropes you find objectionable.

This bingo generator can be used to generate totally safe-for-work or family-friendly bingo cards, but it was created by an adult with an adult audience in mind.

If you run into any issues or come across any bugs, please let me know.

If you find something that should be in the NSFW category, but isn't, please also let me know. It's possible that I missed a few tags when I worked through the list of over 2,000 tags in the 2024 main collection. Please don't ask me to remove content you find objectionable.

If there's anything unclear, feel free to ask! I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible, but please understand if it takes a while; it's a busy time for all of us. :D

Just FYI, the platform I'm using, Perchance, added AI options for their generators last year. This is a regrettable decision that I don't condone, and I'd like to emphasise that this generator is 100% handcrafted chaos.

This generator is based on my Fanfiction Reading Bingo I made as a little practice piece last year. It's responsive, which means it should work on desktop and mobile. The mobile layout isn't ideal yet; I'm trying my best to make it better (but I'd also still consider myself a newbie and I'm learning by doing).

The background image is an edited version of this photo by Simon Berger on Unsplash.

I hope you'll find as much fun in using this generator as I found in making it! Happy Yuletide!

#Fandom #Fanfiction #Yuletide #Yuletide 2024 #Yuletide Bingo #Fanfiction Bingo #D47 Codes

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demonlorddiva · 7 months ago

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What I’d get the obey me brothers as a present!

Lucifer

This man seems to have EVERYTHING I’d be scrambling to find something he would like

Factory tour is definitely on the list LMAO

Bottles of demonus is a good idea too!

But I think I’d go for a Custom record with all of our favorite songs, the sleeve is a picture of us 🥰

Mammon

He’s a car guy so that gives some options

But he’s also a fashion guy, a casino guy, and just a luxury guy in general

So if your budget is low ur gonna have to get creative

You KNOW he loves spending time with you, and I think if you made something (especially if you told him you worked really hard on it) he would be dying

Like a custom card, maybe a Lego set of his car that you put together yourself, would go a really long way

Anything matching, rings, shirts, bracelets, I think he’d really like too

If you wanna be funny do that thing where u buy a plot of land in Irland so he can be LORD mammon in the human world too (warning: he will be annoying about it after)

Levi

FINALLY SOMEONE EASY TO SHOP FOR HELLO

Any ruri chan figure that he doesn’t have will do

Really anything anime related

Any video games he doesn’t have (especially if they are 2 player so you can play together) I think he would greatly appreciate

If you got matching stuff I think he’d only wear it when you were together in his room, he would get so flustered if someone noticed lmao

I think he would enjoy stuffed animals as well!

Satan

You’d THINK he’d be hard to shop for too but I got some ideas!!

I think he would DIE if you got him one of those bookcase mini world things to put on one of his shelves would be a GREAT idea

Especially if he found out how long it took you to glue all the pieces together 🤣

I’d say get one and put it together and get another so you can both make it for a date night!

Ofc book marks, book holders, or even your favorite reads I think he will enjoy

Even if you did some origami on some paper and made a bookmark I think this boy would be happy

Also anything cat related ofc

Scratch everything just wear cat ears in front of him he will be Grateful enough HAHA

Asmo

Another easy shopper!!

Nail polish, face masks, bath stuff, hair stuff, the possibilities are endless

But i think he’d appreciate something personalized

Like a hand mirror that you decorated yourself with rhinestones that spell out his name

Or bath bombs or Epsom salts that you doctored up/made yourself would go a long way

But watch out, once you give them to him he won’t just want to use them on himself

That’s right your in for a full spa day too!!

Beel

If you can bake you’ve got his gift in the bag!

Any sort of dessert wrapped up and given to him is an easy way to his heart!

But if you want something sentimental I think he’d appreciate that too!

I think he’d wear more jewelry if you gave it to him

Especially if it matched with you or you combined belphies and his gifts with matching accessories!

Feel like he’s the kinda guy who doesn’t get things for himself so I think things like workout outfits, shoes, and socks would be greatly appreciated too!

He’s giving you a hug afterwards he’s so happy you just thought of him 😭

belphegor

Self care KING

He never has enough blankets, pillows, stuffed animals

The more the merrier honesty

I think one of those weighted heatable stuffed animals would be the PERFECT gift

Maybe some cute comfy sweatshirts too

If you wanted to go all out you can get him a heated blanket or a custom blanket you made yourself or something personalized like his name on it

If it’s a really special occasion you can buy him a star!! (Idk if you can do that in the devildom but you can do a human world one!) he’d freak out for sure

If your on a budget, just make some “coupon cards” for a free one hour cuddle or nap and he’s gonna be a happy demon

Not proofread okay bye!!!

#obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me belphie

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five-rivers · 1 year ago

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My Kingdom of Fish poll fic! Continued from here.

(Also for Dannymay Day 6: Immortal AU, because KoF is one!)

But Danny had already started to reach for the badge with the lantern symbol, entranced by its curlicues and the graceful curve of the glass. The librarian took this as him pointing, and swept all the other badges off the table.

“So, um,” said Danny, rubbing the back of his neck, “what kind of an alteration are we talking about, here?” He could practically feel his parents glaring at him, for all that he was a whole dimension away.

“The lantern is the symbol of light,” said the librarian. “That’s what it gives you. Extra light.”

A pretty minor transformation, then, compared to other places he’d been. “Anything else I should know about? Side effects? Library rules?”

“Your Library of Tongues card says you’re a minor.”

“I mean, when I got it, but that was years ago. I’m over eighteen.”

The librarian looked at him skeptically. “Chronologically, perhaps. Board policy restricts minors from accessing age-inappropriate topics. These topics include, but are not limited to, certain sexual and reproductive material, details of portal mechanics and construction, duplication, decomposition of human bodies, summoning rituals, except for instructions on how to prevent oneself from being summoned, metaphysical or core bonding, except for prevention methods, coming of age rituals, customs, and rites, and any similar rituals restricted to adults. Do you accept these restrictions?”

“I’m not sure how I’m going to tell if something includes one of those things without looking at it,” said Danny, rocking back slightly. “Why are portals restricted, anyway?” he asked, echoing a question from his Dad.

“Because they are exceedingly dangerous and liable to end people. But you won’t need to figure out what is disallowed yourself.” She held up a roll of stickers. Most of them were generic circles, but the one on the end was a cute little cluster of stars. In the center of the largest star, the word ‘MINOR’ was written. “We add these to minors’ badges. They’re linked to an effect that will prevent you from entering the relevant areas.”

“Oh, that’s alright, then,” said Danny. It grated, a little, but he had more or less accepted that ghosts, much like his parents, were never going to see him as a full adult.

Partially, unfortunately, because he never would be.

The librarian stuck the sticker on the badge. “As for other rules,” she began, “common courtesy applies. No fights. Capturing pests like dire bookworms is fine. No damage to the library. Food items should not leave marked areas. Do not attempt to remove books from the library.” She tapped the visitor’s badge against the counter and began to make another note on her pad of paper. “And be quiet, or the lost ones might take you, I suppose.”

Danny’s eyebrows went up. “Lost ones?”

“A legend,” said the librarian. “Every so often, a story circulates about people becoming permanently lost in the lower levels of the library. I’ve never seen evidence of anything of the sort happening. We do send out search parties for those guests who fail to leave when their time is up. Speaking of which, if you manage to get lost, you will be required to take two aids on your next visit.”

The librarian finished writing her note and inserted it into a slot on her desk. “The copyists’ room has been informed that you will be arriving and your preferences regarding the translation. They will give you the book you will be translating.” She held the visitor’s badge out to Danny. “Clip this to the front of your clothes and try not to lose it. It’s much more tedious to undo the alterations when you leave if you don’t have it.”

“They don’t just disappear when you leave?” asked Danny. That was unusual. Most transformations like this were location-dependent.

“They do, eventually, but since they aren’t entirely natural, they tend to stick a little more. So. Don’t lose the badge.” She wiggled the badge a little.

Danny took it and briefly searched for a part of himself that wasn’t covered with equipment and would fit the badge. It was harder than he’d thought it would be, but he managed.

The transformation hit almost immediately.

Most of the glow a ghost produced wasn’t in their skin, but their aura, hovering less than an inch above it. Danny’s aura flared and billowed out, going from moon-like to a luminous nimbus Danny could probably read by.

Actually, Danny reflected as his aura stretched out even further, pulling gently but firmly on his core, someone twenty or thirty feet away could read comfortably in this much light.

His parents exclaimed over the change in brightness and ecto-energy readings, the light no doubt whiting out their video.

He swayed slightly, and blinked hard as some mechanism in his eyes and perception shifted to accommodate the light. He reached out to the counter to steady himself, and was surprised when his hand hit not the counter, but the wall. Somehow, the equipment he had so carefully put on felt loose, precarious, as if he was going to–

At the last minute, he managed to catch the complex camera rig and lower it to the ground. Then, he decided that sitting down would be good for him, too. He put his head between his knees as best he could, stripping off a few more pieces of recording equipment to do so, and waited for the waves of dizziness to pass.

Finally, he looked up. He could see down the long reception room as easily as before, but it was much better illuminated now. He held his hand up in front of himself. The first thing he noticed was how light seemed to trail after it, a sort of neon afterimage, almost like something in a video game.

Then, he noticed how small it was.

He jumped to his feet, then off them, so he could properly grasp at the counter. He only vaguely noticed that his usual jumpsuit had been replaced with loose pants and a smock that fell to his knees. His hands left glowing prints on the wood.

“You didn’t tell me I was going to shrink!” he hissed.

The librarian held up her hands. “Usually, it’s not quite so severe.” Her eyes practically twinkled. “But you must admit, that it is much easier to tell who is a minor at a glance, this way.”

Danny huffed, drew his eyes down over himself again, then deliberately flew in front of the cameras, light trailing behind him, lingering in the air like ink in water. “How old do I look right now?” he asked his parents.

“Oh, dear,” said Maddie.

“I was never good with ages,” said Jack.

“Five, I think. You looked like this when you started school. Danny, maybe you should come home.”

“I already made the deal to translate, backing out would be bad form.” He looked around at the equipment he’d shed during his transformation. “I’m probably not going to be able to bring most of this, though… It won’t fit, and my arms just aren’t big enough to grab on to everything.” Although, he could probably drag it around with telekinesis. That required an awful lot of concentration, though, and he wasn’t sure he could manage it.

“You can leave what you can’t take in here,” said the librarian. “We have a coat room for just such a purpose.”

Well, that was one problem solved. Now he just had to decide what he could take. The Fenton Phones, of course, since they still fit alright in his ears, but what else?

#danny phantom #poll fic #dannymay #dannymay 2024 #kingdom of fish #choose your own adventure

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lucagray813 · 4 months ago

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The Tang Chronicles - Chapter 6

Rating: G

Word Count: ~3,031

Characters: Tang, Pigsy, MK, Pigsy's Grandmother

Summary: Tang has finally handed in his final assignment for uni and celebrations are in order! Unfortunately though, it's not just his course that's come to an end.

Additional Tags: Slice of Life, Pre-Canon, Pigsy's Grandmother is called Xiùyīng

CW: Mentions of alcohol, brief allusion to alcohol abuse

Link to AO3 Version

Chapter Navigation: First | Prev | Next

----

He had done it.

Through blood, sweat and tears - so, so many tears - he had submitted his dissertation and was now finally free from the horrors of academia!

At least, he was until he started his post-grad in the Autumn, assuming he got the passing mark he needed, that was. But! That was something for future Tang to worry about! Right now, he deserved to just feel relieved and happy that the hard part was over.

On his way back home, he'd stopped by Pigsy's to tell everyone the good news and apparently they had been waiting for him.

It wasn't often MK was found in the restaurant during opening hours but he was clearly on lookout duty. Stationed at the booth closest to the window, he was leaning over the back of the chair and scouring the streets.

Tang had to admit, it was quite nice to have someone's face light up so spectacularly when they saw you. MK quickly disappeared from his sight but he was there when he opened the door holding up a very colourful, homemade card and cheering excitedly, "Congat- Congatu- You did it, Mr. Tang!"

He'd managed to arrive just as they'd reopened for dinner and as such it wasn't too busy but the few customers that were here looked very taken with MK's antics. He wasn't sure MK really understood why congratulations were in order but his grin was wide as he took his card from MK.

"For me? Aw, thank you, MK."

On the front of the card was a tall and shining rendition of himself with balloons and streamers surrounding him. On the inside, there were smaller pictures of all the things that MK apparently associated with him - his glasses, his laptop, books, noodles. And in the middle it read, "No more homework!" With many happy faces and words like "Wow", "Yes!" And "Lucky!" all around it.

It was signed MK, Pigsy and Xiùyīng.

Well, maybe he did understand why they were celebrating. He laughed as he closed the card, "Thank you, MK. This is the best "No more homework" card I've ever gotten!"

That got some amused smiles from around the room but MK just beamed at him before hurrying him to his usual seat, "C'mon, we made something special just for you!"

Xiùyīng was there waiting for him and he allowed himself to be swept up in her mighty hug as she congratulated him, "Oh, well done, Mr. Tang." She let him go and smiled at him as she continued, "You must be so relieved, you've worked so hard."

He heard Pigsy snort but he ignored him as he thanked her, "I can't even put into words how glad I am it's over. But you really didn't need to any... thing... for...."

His eyes were glued to the glowing bowl of noodles that had just been sat down on the bar. He swallowed the unseemly amount of saliva that had just materialised and tore his gaze away to look at Pigsy with eyes full of teary wonder as he pointed to the dish, "For me?"

Pigsy rolled his eyes but he was smiling fondly as he pushed the bowl closer, "Obviously. Don't start with the waterworks - you'll ruin the broth with your tears."

He sniffled noisily as he composed himself and sat down. Gratefully he accepted the pair of chopsticks MK was waving at him but before he could take a bite, Pigsy pulled the bowl away from him, "I just need to check - did you actually hand in your dissertation or did you just throw it in the river?"

In the weeks leading up to his deadline, he had gotten increasingly dramatic, threatening to scatter this Heaven forsaken paper to the winds or to burn it and bury the ashes. He huffed as he pulled out his phone and showed Pigsy a picture of him handing in his dissertation.

Mǐnyǒng had also been sceptical of whether he was actually going to go through with it or not and had bullied him into sending evidence that the deed was done - his classmates had found this incredibly funny but they had obligingly filmed and photographed him.

Pigsy nodded his approval and let him snatch his well-earned prize back. He was vaguely aware of Xiùyīng lightly scolding Pigsy but it all melted away as he took his first bite.

"Oi! What did I say about getting tears in the broth!"

He couldn't even slow down long enough to savour it, just shuffled it into his mouth as fast as he could as waterfalls ran down his face.

Xiùyīng helped MK up onto the stool beside him before taking the seat on the kid's other side so they could both tuck into their own special bowls.

Xiùyīng muttered something about too much soy sauce but it was drowned out by MK's happy humming.

When he was finished he looked Pigsy straight in the eye, "Pigsy. That was the greatest thing I've ever eaten."

Trying to hide how pleased he was, Pigsy picked up his empty bowl, "That'll be your way of saying you want more then."

This time, he took the time to savour the food and Pigsy was practically glowing as he waxed poetry about every aspect of it, backed up by MK's enthusiastic nodding and his simple, but heartfelt, compliments like, "It's really tasty!", "It's so shiny!" and, "Even the vegetables are yummy!"

That had, of course, prompted some light-hearted arguing about vegetables but if anything it only added to the enjoyment of the meal.

Eventually, Xiùyīng wisped MK away to clean him up and he got some final congratulations as they left.

His eyes caught on the card MK had made him lying a safe distance away from the splash zone and he picked it up with a smile as he admired it, "What a sweet kid. And he's getting really good with his characters."

Pigsy coughed, "Well, he may have had some help with them."

He laughed quietly, quite charmed that this card had been a collaborative effort, "Well, that doesn't change how much I appreciate it."

Pigsy turned away with a grunt to do some dishes, "Yeah, well, you can show that appreciation by making sure to still come by and visit him. I don't think it's quite clicked that you not having homework means that you'll be round less. He's going to miss you."

He smiled as he propped his cheek against his hand.

MK's going to miss me, huh?

Out loud he said, "I'll be picking up more shifts at the museum soon but I'll still be here at least couple times a week. You know I need my fix."

Pigsy huffed, "You better be." He then turned and pointed a wet wooden spoon at him threateningly, "And I better not hear that you've been sneaking off to have lunch at that noodle shop around the corner from your work - that place is a disgrace!"

It definitely did the job if you were just in the mood for some cheap, greasy food though but still he put a hand on his heart, "I have a stomach of integrity. I would never betray you like that."

Pigsy clearly didn't believe him but he let it go and returned to his dishes before asking, "Uh-huh. You doing anything to celebrate finishing uni then?"

He nodded, "A couple of us are going out for drinks tonight. Nothing too crazy planned but everyone is desperate to cut loose after a month of pure stress."

Pigsy glanced over his shoulder, "You wanting to take something away for later then?"

Coming home drunk to Pigsy's noodles sounded like heaven on earth so he grinned, "Can you double it? Mǐnyǒng is coming out too."

Pigsy nodded and started throwing something together as he commented, "I'll make him his favourite - he deserves it for keeping you out of trouble."

He huffed, "Since when do I get into any trouble?"

Pigsy raised an eyebrow and Tang hastened to clarify, "Drunken troubles! Not weird luck trouble! I'm a perfectly sensible drunk!"

And it was mostly true! While alcohol generally robbed him of his ability to shut up, he didn't tend to lose his filter or feel the need to do anything stupid. If anything, Mǐnyǒng was the more likely of the two of them to get into trouble - very easily persuaded into doing dares and challenges when drunk.

Pigsy looked doubtful and Tang responded, "What do you know anyway! You've never even seen me drunk!"

Pigsy scoffed, "And I'm more than happy to keep it that way. Drinking isn't my thing."

A little surprised, he asked, "What? Like at all?"

He wasn't a huge drinker himself but he did enjoy going out now and then and he thought it was sort of a shame if Pigsy didn't drink at all - it might have been fun to go out together sometime.

Pigsy shrugged and he continued to question, "How come?"

With forced nonchalance, Pigsy responded with his back turned, "My mā drank enough for both of us."

A little thrown by his explanation, he awkwardly got out, "O-oh... Uh, yeah. I guess that could put you off..."

By the rising tension he could see in Pigsy's shoulders, he thought that he might have regretted being so honest but he knew better than to pry and tried to move the conversation on, "Guess that means you wouldn't want to go out sometime, huh? Ah, well. Probably makes you better role model for MK anyway. Oh! Which reminds me! I still owe you that museum tour!"

Pigsy turned to look at him, a little bewildered, "How did that remind you of the museum?"

He'd really just been scrambling for the first safe topic he could think of but he tried to retrospectively apply some logic, "Well, it's a fun day out and we said we'd arrange something when I finally finished my coursework."

Pigsy eyed him oddly before letting it slide, "Right... Well about that. If he'll like it as much as you think he will I'm thinking I might save it as a treat or something for him attending his first day of Summer School. Try and make it as positive experience as possible, y'know?"

Without really thinking, he wondered out loud, "Isn't that how they train dogs? Y'know, give them lots of treats for going to the groomers or whatever?"

Pigsy just stared at him for a moment before apparently deciding not to comment, "So what I was getting at is was that the trip to museum is still a couple of months away."

A little confused, he responded, "Y'know, he can go more than once, right? And the exhibits change all the time."

Pigsy muttered something unintelligible before responding, "Yeah, I know but this is just the way I want to play it, alright?"

Sometimes, there was no understanding Pigsy, and there was no reasoning with him either so he just shrugged, "Suit yourself."

They chatted about how MK was getting on preparing for school and about what his plans were for the rest of the week before Pigsy handed him over his food and warned him to stay safe tonight.

He rolled his eyes but promised to drink responsibly all the same.

----

Two weeks later, he found himself in his usual seat slumped over the bar as his tears cascaded off the bar to create a small waterfall.

Pigsy had set up a wet floor sign beside him just in time for Xiùyīng and MK arriving back from their trip to the park.

Xiùyīng immediately approached him, "Oh dear, what's happened?"

MK clung to her dress and looked up at him as his eyes welled up with empathetic tears.

Pigsy grunted, "He was dumped."

He sobbed louder in response.

Xiùyīng gasped, a hand coming to her chest, "No! Why? What happened?"

Pigsy translated his incoherent blubbering, "Mǐnyǒng got offered a job in Chéngdū. He's taking it."

Xiùyīng placed a gentle hand on his arm, "Oh, sweetheart."

He wailed, "H-He doesn't even want to try doing long- long-distance!"

To say he was devastated didn't even begin to cover it.

He'd genuinely believed that he and Mǐnyǒng were going to be together for the rest of their lives but Mǐnyǒng wouldn't even entertain the idea of having a long-distance relationship for the year it would take for Tang to finish his masters and then come and join him in Chéngdū.

Did he want to move to Chéngdū? No. But upon receiving the bad news, he'd been severely tempted just to ditch his plans to do a masters just so they could stay together.

His mother had swiftly nipped that idea in the bud however.

Because, of course, she had been the first person he'd called.

Unfortunately, his least favourite older brother also happened to have be visiting when his snotty face had appeared on his mother's phone and he'd zero sympathy to his plight.

"Oh no, māma! Your gay wedding!"

She'd slapped his arm and sent him away before giving him her full attention, "Oh, Tangy. Tell mamā everything."

She'd been exceptionally sympathetic but hadn't minced words when she told him that no man was worth abandoning your education for. No man was ever worth sacrificing anything for.

Unless it was one of her sons, of course, then that was a different story.

He'd no longer been bawling his eyes out by the end of the conversation but he had sniffled an apology about not giving her the gay wedding she wanted. She had shushed him, "Oh, don't you worry about that. You'll find another man and I'll get my wedding yet." She raised her voice, "It's your brother that I'm worried is never going to get married!"

Almost immediately after that call, his other, much more likeable brothers, had messaged him with their condolences. His eldest brother showing he cared by threatening to fly to out and do serious bodily harm if he dropped out of uni for some guy.

Arguments that Mǐnyǒng wasn't just "some guy" and was, in fact, the love of his life were not entertained.

After that, obviously, the next person he had to tell was Pigsy and he'd been crying at the kitchen bar since he'd got here.

Pigsy did not have his mother's gentle way with words and wasn't really in the habit of lying just to make him feel better. And so he refused to tell him what he wanted to hear and agree with him that Mǐnyǒng was going to realise his mistake and change his mind.

He didn't care how unlikely it might be, he was nowhere near ready to accept the truth.

Not when he still had another couple of weeks of living together with Mǐnyǒng to convince him to give a long-distance relationship a shot.

At least, Xiùyīng was better than her grandson when it came to this sort of stuff, even if all she was offering was the generic platitudes of "You'll find someone better." Or "You were too good for him anyway."

Poor MK had no idea what was going on but he was very upset by the fact that Tang was upset and eventually Pigsy had picked him up and taken him upstairs to try and explain the situation and calm him down while Xiùyīng stayed to try and comfort him.

He'd just about pulled himself together by the time the restaurant had opened but he couldn't shake the depressed funk that had taken over him - not even Pigsy's cooking could cheer him up.

And he could tell the way he miserably picked at his food was what really alarmed Pigsy more than anything.

But how could he enjoy anything when perfection personified was about to walk out of his life? How was he ever going to find anyone remotely like Mǐnyǒng?

What if he was doomed to be single forever and he never found love again?

Because as wonderful as his mother liked to tell him he was, he knew he was high maintenance. And he was suddenly ruminating on whether he was the problem and this had been a long time coming. What if Mǐnyǒng had just been waiting for the chance to dump him without hurting his feelings because he was nice like that?

Over the coming weeks Mǐnyǒng would do his best to convince him that wasn't the case at all and that it was all because they were young and had different ambitions and that he didn't want either of them to miss out on opportunities and blah, blah, blah.

It didn't stop the heart ache and it didn't stop his erratic mood swings either.

Pigsy had taken a very tough love approach to it all, enduring his emotional tirade but only offering him cold, hard facts in return. Sourly, he thought it was because Pigsy didn't understand the pain of heart break. Xiùyīng had complained hundreds of times over the years about her grandson's non-existent love life, after all. So what did he know about what he was going through?

In sharp contrast, MK was very empathetic to his mood even if he didn't seem to really understand what had happened still. But he could often be found sat as closely to Tang as he could get away with at the bar, drawing things and offering him various toys to try and cheer him up.

He really wished he would stop and just leave him to his abject misery but he didn't need Pigsy's warning glares to tell him that rebuffing MK's efforts would end badly for him.

Xiùyīng was somewhere in the middle of the two, although she, very unhelpfully, kept mentioning a friend's son or the nice man that always stopped by on a Friday evening for takeout. I mean, could she at least wait until Mǐnyǒng had actually left before trying to set him up with someone new?

But eventually Mǐnyǒng did leave and on top of being depressed about that, he now had the pleasure of experiencing single life for the first time in almost four years and he hated it.

Unfortunately, no-one was particularly impressed with his rebound.

--Chapter End--

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LMK Fanfic Masterlist

#lmk #lmk fanfiction #my fanfiction #originally posted on ao3 #tumblr fic #lmk mk #lmk tang #lmk pigsy's grandmother #lmk pigsy #lmk dadsy #pre relationship #lmk freenoodles #au: dadsy #lego monkie kid

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sabraeal · 1 year ago

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Friends With Amenities

[Read on AO3]

“I-I’m sorry, could you repeat that?” Shirayuki’s fingers curl against the counter; the only thing keeping her upright as her blood abandons everything below the knee and rushes to her head. “I think there’s been a mistake.”

The concierge points one long nail toward her screen, angled firmly away from the customer side of the counter, eyebrows bumping up against her hairline. “Well, ma’am, it says here that you’re booked for the deluxe king suite, complete with master bath, full kitchenette, and picturesque views of the old quarter.”

“No, I— I’m sure I said two queens.” She’d only made the booking two weeks ago, fingers trembling as she read the number off the department’s travel card, double- and triple-checking that the reservation had been for two adults in two separate beds. “Very sure! I even have the email—”

“Oh yeah, of course.” Nails clatter as the woman waves her hand, unconcerned. Sweat prickles along her spine, and oh, what Shirayuki wouldn’t give to tap into some of the reserve of calm. “But it looks like you were selected for a free upgrade! That means that not only are you welcome to partake in our continental breakfast, but that you also have access to our—”

“But one king is still less than the two beds I asked for.” It’s not as if there’s a problem sharing with Obi— over the past year, she’s probably spent more nights in his bed with him that she’s spent in her own alone the last three— but that’s all…incidental. Something that happens when she agrees to just one more episode, or lets him work on one last slide as she starts in on her bedtime reading. But agreeing to this—

That would be on purpose. A plan to share space. Two bodies beneath the covers touching.

“Can’t you just put me back in my old room?” The bitten ends of her nails carve painful crescents into her palms. “If you upgraded me to a king suite, that means there was a double queen you left empty, doesn’t it?”

The concierge grimaces, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but this conference has got us booked to the gills. If there was a double queen available, it’s been booked out now.”

“But…” Her eyes sting, and ugh— this is a silly thing to to care about. Pedantics, really, when they probably would have ended up curled up on the same bed anyway. But that doesn’t stop the pressure building in her nose, or the hot, helpless tears hanging at the end of her tear ducts. “Why?”

“Ah, I’m not sure of the…er… selection process when it comes to these upgrades, ma’am.” The concierge pointedly looks down at her screen, uselessly wiggling the mouse. “Maybe it was random, or maybe they looked at your reservation and saw something about it that made them think you might have…hm…wanted one bed at a better price point…”

“What would…?” Her teeth snap shut around the question. The double queen was cheaper than a single king; even a couple might look at the price points and decide the extra bed wasn’t a deal breaker. Two people with the same address—

But they didn’t have Obi’s address, or hers. Just the department’s card, and two names, one male, one female.

My point is, you’re in a hotel filled with people who won’t find it intimidating that you can mark a turtle migratory pattern on a map just by looking at its skull. Yuzuri’s shrug is seared onto the back of her eyelids, so casual, like like the logic of work hookups is obvious. What happens at conference stays at conference.

“I’d like to”— speak with your manager perches right at the tip of her tongue, threatening to tip over, to cause a scene, but a deep breath scuttles it before she can founder— “ask if there’s any other rooms available?”

The concierge casts her the sort of side eye Yuzuri could only dream of, but she keys in the request anyway. “The honeymoon suite? That comes with—”

Shirayuki slumps. “I’ll take the deluxe king.”

It’s not hard to find Obi— he’s hovering at the edge of the bar, as promised, the entire impossible length of his legs unfurled between seat and floor. There’s the barest hint of tanned skin where his shirt has begun to roll up, and—

And it’s just her luck that Yuzuri’s already there, curled around her drink like her smile’s curls around the straw, watching her watching him.

“There she is!” she calls out, one hand swinging out in invitation. “Suzu’s already searching for swag on the expo floor. I was gonna wait for you, but it looked like things were getting heated down at your end of the counter, so I thought I’d leave you to it.”

There’s an edge of her tongue that could lash out, could cut with a real wry thanks— but it blunts when she considers just what sort of help Yuzuri would have been with one bed on the line.

A dimple furrows itself between Obi’s brow as he sets down his glass, the plastic gator at the bottom bobbling between layers. “Everything all good, Doc? I can go over and cause a problem if you need some—”

There might be no way to guess this cocktail’s composition— some kind of juice, probably, maybe with champagne for bubbles, or vodka for a kick— but whatever it is, it’s certain better than trying to explain all this sober. Shirayuki reaches out with both hands, completely ignoring the suggestion of straw or stirrer, and takes a full gulp.

It’s almost disappointing how little it burns going down. It does taste good though.

Obi lifts a brow. “That bad, huh?”

She takes a breath, running a hand over the back of her mouth before she tells him, “We’ve only got one bed.”

“Aw, come on, Doc.” Obi shifts his bag over his shoulder, biceps flexing to redistribute the weight, and haah, it would be nice to get a little warning if he was going to make himself so dangerous to look at. “How bad could it be?”

Her suitcase rolls too close, nipping her heels halfway to the door, but even that can’t keep her from rolling a glare his way. “You know better than to say something like that.”

“I know, I know, but I’m just saying— bed as big as that, we’re practically in different zip codes.” He shrugs, and oh, he might be playing casual, might be pretending that all this hits him like water off a duck’s back, but Shirayuki doesn’t miss the stiffness of those angles, the way tension hampers every twitch. “I could go full starfish and you’d still have to ship international to get to my fingers.”

She snorts. “I think you underestimate just how much limb you have.”

“I think you mean rippling muscle.” He flexes one in demonstration, close enough that she catches the nutmeg and bergamot of his deodorant. “Unending plains of gains. The heartland of hulk. The absolute breadbasket of—”

“I didn’t realize we were talking about Mitsuhide,” she hums, too innocent, swiping her card in front of the door’s scanner.

“Hey—”

The door swings open, and all his planned protests elide into a heartfelt whistle. “Wow, when they say upgrade, they mean upgrade.”

“I guess so…” The double queen had been just a room with beds, two chairs and a table thrown into a corner to give somewhere else to sit— plenty of room for two people who were used to navigating the same space— but this…this is practically an apartment. The stumpy entryway leads right into the living room, small kitchen to the right and bathroom to the left.

Obi saunters past her, dropping his bag on the sectional— a full couch plus chaise— and hooks his hands on his hips. “Damn. This TV is bigger than ours!”

She clucks her tongue on habit, flushing when his grin. “We’re not here to watch TV.”

“Right, we’re here to get some billionaire to sign off on saving turtles,” he says agreeably, even as he flicks it on, scrolling through the guide. “But while we’re not doing that, I bet this thing gets all the channels. I wonder if HBO still plays porn after midnight…”

“We’re here for a conference,” she reminds him, taking the two steps up to a set of folding doors. “And hopefully finding Eisetsu Rugilia among the attendees.”

“Right, but they don’t have lectures and two am, so—”

“Obi.”

He holds up his hands. “You’re right, Doc. Two am is when all these billionaire babies have their parties. I won’t have time for” — he squints at the text stretching across the screen— “Damon’s Seed when I’m already living my own Eyes Wide Shut.”

She stares at him, blank. “You know I don’t get that reference.”

“I know.” One shoulder lifts; the most aggravating of his shrugs. “It’s funnier that way.”

With anyone else she would let it drop— woodland fairy creature she may be, but she didn’t begrudge her childhood a moment of sunshine— but with Obi she huffs, fitting her fists around the door’s knobs, informing him, “One day I’m going to watch all these movies, and then you’ll have to find some other source of entertainment.”

“Believe it when I see it, Doc. Believe it while I see it.”

“You will. After I finish my thesis, I’ll have plenty of time to”— the doors whip open, a more dramatic entry than she planned, and—

And her whole brain narrows onto a single, “Oh.”

“Wow.” Obi’s breath catches far too close to her ear. “Now that’s some bed. I think we might lose you in the pillows.”

Her jaw works, managing a single, “Um.”

“Oh hey!” Obi peers around the jamb. “Look, there’s more room! That’s pretty…”

He slinks past her, all sinew and swagger, and—

And nearly stumbles, all his words peter down to a “Woah.”

“A jacuzzi?” Yuzuri groans, head sinking into her hands. “You guys got a jacuzzi?”

“A jacuzzi tub,” Shirayuki corrects numbly, the stem of her Shirley Temple twisting between her fingers. “Not a…a hot tub or anything.”

“Big enough to be one though.” Obi’s hand brushes over his shoulder, contemplative, before settling back on his drink. “Probably could fit the whole lab in there if we didn’t mind getting cozy.”

Izuru tilts her head. “Oh, like…naked?”

As brazen as Obi can be, even he chokes. “The lab tub party would definitely have a bathing suit dress code.”

“Oh.” She sighs, disinterested. “Disappointing.”

“Where’s my free upgrade?” Yuzuri leans back, head tipping over her chair in despair. “I want a jacuzzi.”

“Maybe one of your hookups will have one, if you’re lucky,” Kazaha drawls, flipping through his copy of the conference directory. It’s not quite phone book sized, but it is intimidating, filled cover-to-cover with people not much older than her but far more accomplished. Only a few hours ago, she might have questioned her place here, whether she would ever contribute enough to the field to even get an abstract in the door, but—

But right now she’s still stuck on the full bathroom, visible from the bed. Except, of course, the toilet. That, thankfully, is tucked away in a smaller closet. But still, shower and tub and bed with nothing but a change in flooring to separate them.

Yuzuri can never know. “I don’t want to take a bath in some guy’s tub! Like god, how would that even be relaxing?”

“The sex could be interesting,” Izuru offers. “Just like a hot tub.”

“No, we’ve been over this!” Yuzuri waves a hand, as if that might be enough to shoo the idea away from the table. “You need preparation for water sex. Lube, for one. A plan, for another. Insurance, since at best you’re going to crack your head open, and at worst, you’ll end up at a gynecologist.”

Suzu blink. “Worst?”

“There are things that can happen to a vag that I’d rather be in a coma for.” She gives Shirayuki a pointed— and completely unnecessary— glance. “Trust me.”

Obi simply raises a brow, sipping from his straw. “You didn’t bring lube?”

“That’s not the point.” Yuzuri rolls her eyes, flicking a ribbon of blonde over her shoulder. “If I’m taking a bath, it’s going to be with bubbles and salts and no less than four jets, all alone.”

“But he could wash your hair.” Suzu’s forehead furrows, oddly concerned. “That’s nice isn’t it? I liked it when then did it at the salon…”

“It is nice, Suzu, but it’s also intimate, and if I’m just looking to— ugh.” Her hands fly up in the air. “Never mind. No jacuzzi sex, end of story. Now what are you going to do about the one bed situation?”

“Y-yuzuri!” Shirayuki sputters, hoping her cheeks are only half as red as they feel. “That’s— that’s not important.”

“I think it’s important,” she hums, smirk wrapping around her straw. “Entertaining, at least.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Obi huffs, settling back in his chair. “There’s enough bed for the population of Luxembourg. Me and Doc could both be on that thing and not be within shouting distance.”

Yuzuri swivels in her seat, glaring at Shirayuki across the table. “It’s so unfair you guys got that room and you’re not even going to f—”

Suzu clears his throat. “Not to state the obvious but…doesn’t this room have a couch or something?”

“The program says G7,” Shirayuki murmurs, lingering over the letters printed at the head of each aisle. “Which I think should be down over here, if— Obi, are you all right?”

He might have dogged her heels through the doors of the exhibition hall, but Obi’s lagged behind as she navigates through the field of half-empty tables, only a handful of posters properly displayed. He grunts, adjusting the half dozen canisters on his back. “Well, it is kind of a burn to have Suzu have to remind me couches exist. I mean, I would know, wouldn’t I? Done plenty with only two feet of cushion—”

“I meant with the posters,” she sighs, doubling back to lift a few from his shoulders. “I can’t believe they sent us to set up all of them.”

“I can.” Obi smirks, leaning the rest against the table. “It’s our punishment for getting the best room. And for not— how did Yuzuri put it?— using it to its fullest.”

“W-well, you’d think they’d have a little more professional pride in displaying their work.” The caps on the canisters put up a fight— Shidan had said they might after they came off the plane, something about pressurization and vacuums and other physics concepts she only had a casual acquaintance with through undergrad— but Shirayuki’s happy for the excuse to be doing something when she adds, “You can if you want to, you know.”

One of Obi’s posters pops open with all the subtlety of gunshot. “Uh, want to run that by me again, Doc?”

“I just mean if you wanted to brings someone back and…er…take advantage of all the…amenities…?” She strives to be casual, to be cool, like it’s none of her business what he might get up to unattended. Like she hadn’t bitten her nails clear down to quick under the covers when he was out with Haki’s friend, slinking home well after midnight. “Just let me know.”

“Me?” he coughs. “Really? And just what would you do?”

She shrugs her shoulders, striving for the kind of calm Obi exudes on an everyday basis. “I’m sure Yuzuri wouldn’t mind some company.”

One of his eyebrows creeps to a skeptical altitude. “If she isn’t taking advantage of her own amenities.”

“O-oh, well!” She shakes her head, trying to look anywhere but at him. “She won’t take anyone back to her room, so, uh, that might be even better, if you think about it. Someone using it, at least.”

Air hisses out through his teeth with no hint of his usual humor. “Listen, Doc, really, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not really…” He shakes his head, one hand scrubbing at the bristle in back. “I mean, I appreciate the vote of confidence, but I’m not in the market for…”

He hesitates, eyes narrowing. “Ryuu?”

Shirayuki blinks, tracing his gaze under the table, to where Ryuu is curled up, travel pillow under his head. He shrinks further into his pillbug position, managing a bleak, “Hi.”

“Hey there, big guy.” Obi crouches, folding his arms over his knees casually, like people hang out under tables all the time. “Me and Doc were just out here putting up the posters. What’s up with you.”

“Not much.” He shifts, blue eyes searching both their faces before he admits, “They lost my reservation.”

Shirayuki squats down beside him, brow drawn. “Excuse me?”

“They don’t have a record of my transaction in their database,” he murmurs, rubbing his cheek against the soft microfiber of his pillow. “Even the manager tried. But it looks like even th payment didn’t go through. They think it might be because I’m not— well, an adult is supposed to make the reservation, and I was the only one in the room, and with no legal guardian…”

His nose wrinkles, mouth pursing mulishly before he blurts out, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Stay with us.”

It takes a moment for Shirayuki to realize it’s not her voice saying the words, but Obi’s. He glances at her, and anyone else might be looking for permission, but there’s only confidence there, so certain that she was only a slip of the tongue behind him, that they were single in purpose, and—

And it’s stupid it took her until graduation to realize that this is what she’s been wanting.

“Really?” Ryuu perks, head lifting off the pillow.

“Of course.” Shirayuki knows better than to reach out, to try to comfort him through something as offensive as touch, so she just smiles instead, hoping her sincerity shines through. “We’d be happy to have you.”

He glances between the both of them. “You’re— you’re sure it’s okay?”

“Why not?” Obi says, casting her some rueful side eye. “Now that we know we have a couch, we’re made of room.”

Ah, that’s right. The couch. The couch Obi was going to sleep on…

“Guess it’s a good thing that bed could fit a small country,” Obi mutters, getting to his feet— and then freezing. “Can I help you?”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Shirayuki scramble to her feet, but if the voice isn’t familiar, the man who speak with it is even less so. “You’re part of Shidan Weise’s lab, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” She brushes off her skirt, trying to look somewhat presentable. Like a colleague, instead of someone who spends conferences crouching under tables. “We were just setting up for the poster session. Is there something…?”

“Ah, no, no. I’m not here about the posters.” The man smiles, but it never reaches his eyes. “My name is Shuu Grately. I’m here to tender an invitation.”

Obi’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. “Invitation?”

“On behalf of Eisetsu Rugilia.” One corner of his mouth hooks, humorless. “He would like you to come to his dinner tonight.”

#obiyukibingo24 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #modern au #conservation au #the wide florida bay #my fic #ans #oh man it has been AGES since i wrote WFB #but this thing practically wrote itself #it's good to let shirayuki suffer a little #gotten even out all the years of obi suffering

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sprintingowl · 1 year ago

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Dead Beats

I release an rpg every week, and a lot of them are one or two pagers with a goofy concept and some simple mechanics. This is because of the large, ominous pot bubbling loudly at the back of the stove.

That pot is the thing I've been cooking in the meantime, which in this case is Dead Beats.

Which launches on Wednesday 4/3/24 at noon.

Dead Beats is a grimy 1990s stylish action horror ttrpg. You play as a down-on-your-luck loser who fights demons because no one else will.

Tonal influences include Devil May Cry, Jujutsu Kaisen, Evil Dead, and Chainsaw Man. Also the writings of Joe R Lansdale and the Constantine Hellblazer comics by Jamie Delano.

Mechanically, Dead Beats pulls from a standard poker deck instead of rolling the dice, and this is so you can mark your cards, add new cards to your deck, know when all the face cards are depleted, etc.

It's also very much played in two phases---everything else, and combat.

Dead Beats' combat is inspired by fighting games and beat-em-ups. Weapons are locked to your character, and have deep upgrade trees. You can chain multiple actions together, but the more you chain, the more your fatigue builds up, and the more likely you are to drop your combo.

Fights are fast. Turns are meaty but quick. And you end up with a lot of options outside of the game's core moveset depending on how you customize your outfit.

Again, this game has been cooking for a while, so it's going to end up as a slightly beefy book.

If anything I've said here sounds good to you, feel free to pop over to the kickstarter page and hit Notify Me (if it's before Wednesday,) back the kickstarter (if it's after Wednesday,) or put down your device and squint your eyes at the rad-soaked horizon hoping the cybercrows don't come back (if you found this on a battered tablet in the distant future's desert ruins.)

#ttrpg #ttrpg homebrew #ttrpgs #ttrpg design #indie ttrpgs #rpg #indie ttrpg #tabletop #dnd #rpgs #devil may cry #card games #urban fantasy #grunge #chainsaw man

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askroahmmythril · 1 year ago

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Development of the RMN Series

A recent ask got me thinking about how I developed my set of Robot Masters over the years, which ones were made earliest, which ones came later, design elements that changed over time, etc. So figured I could compile some of that here.

High School Era

The earliest one I made was Vegas Man. I've always had a bit of a fascination with playing cards, so I wanted to theme a Robot Master around that sort of idea, I definitely wanted to make card suits part of his design (I don't think I'd seen RM&B by that point, so I was unfamiliar with Magic Man). His design changed a bit over time, gaining some slight western theming, as well as a change to his weapon, the Casino Shield. The earliest version was an actual physical circular shield he wore on one arm, designed to look like a roulette wheel.

Next up was Bow Man. I think I was somewhat inspired by RMs like Knight Man and Yamato Man that were equipped with solid "real" weapons. Sword Man might have been on the list by that point as well, come to think of it. I figured an archer robot could fit right in. My mind immediately went to Robin Hood as a design base, an overall medieval look. It took some time to come up with a design that carried that feel but looked "robot armor" enough, but I'm fairly pleased with the current iteration.

Third in order was a very early version of Glass Man. I had the overall design elements, and solid idea of how I wanted his weapon, the Shatter Shard, to work. Earlier versions were more solidly based on more colorful stained glass, but I could never really come up with a solid design that I liked, they all just came out looking too complicated or just an overall shape I didn't like. As such, design for him kind of sat on the bench for awhile.

Fourth was Met Man. This one seemed like an obvious design to go for, as I always liked the Met / Metool / Metall enemies from the series, a longtime favorite. His design is probably the overall least changed from conception to current iteration. Earlier designs had the usual line and + mark on his shoulder pad "helmets" as well. The artist who drew the usual reference art I show for my RMs, Alex, drew him without those markings on the shoulders, and honestly I think that looks better, less cluttered. (I know I just recently posted his art of my RMs, but I put it up above at the start of this post for easy reference, and hey, I love the art and was honored to receive it, so I like showing it off, haha) I think the biggest change Met Man got was getting armed with a pickaxe, a design that came about when I started getting into the MMBN series and wanted to get a bit of Mettaur virus design in there.

College Era

While at Full Sail, my habit of doodling in the margins of my notes continued, and along the way, more custom RMs were born.

Fifth up and starting this period was Devil Man. I wanted a fiery volcano stage, but wanted to go with a less standard fire based idea. I had the idea of an RM using a grappling hook to get around the dangerous volcanic tunnels, and that idea ended up taking the form of a sharp, pointed devil-style tail. I didn't really have a solid personality in mind for him, though the actual visual design came along fairly quickly. Alex again gave me something that I adopted as canon for this RM, in his drawing of Devil Man, he was depicted "throwing the horns," so now I imagine him to be a major metalhead, headbanging on the job as he listens to his favorite heavy metal music.

Sixth in line was Origami Man. Origami is an art form I always liked, my mum had a lot of books on the subject, with step by step instructions for various creations. I knew I wanted to do something with that. The overall design gave me trouble, figuring out something that truly looked like origami armor. The pallet was something else that gave me trouble, but in the end, I opted for a softer pastel pallet, largely for some visual contrast from other RMs I had, a good number of which were already on the warmer side of colors.

This was also the period of time where I largely had Vegas Man's finalized design pretty much down, as well as the redesign of his weapon.

YouTube Era

For lack of a better term of time frame, I didn't really think too much about my custom RMs for awhile after Full Sail, until I had started making videos on YouTube and hanging out with various friends. One conversation with a group of people I used to hang out with involved the idea for a Mega Man fangame, and so, we set to designing RMs. While I did think of my older designs, I also decided "why not try making some new ones?"

Seventh on the list was Fruit Man. Our overall designs for the RMs for this game were more on the silly side, so I decided to go wild with his design, making him a mascot character for an orchard, and thus fully theming him on various colorful fruits. In keeping with the sillier ideas, I made his weapon a pun, the Pineapple Grenade.

The eighth and final design was Disco Man, or as he was originally dubbed, Groove Man. His original design was a bit less solidly themed on one genre of music, instead he was sort of build like an entertainment system featuring tape decks, a CD slot, speakers, etc. I was playing around with visual designs for the head, and the one I ended up liking most had a sort of disco ball afro design. Thus, he started leaning more toward a Disco design, with the disco ball motif migrating to his shoulders, the mixtape taking over his chest, chill shades, platform boots, and a more refined afro design. What can I say, I'm a sucker for disco aesthetic (bring back Miror B. you cowards).

This was also around the time I finally came up with a solid visual design that I liked for Glass Man, and thus, the family was complete.

The Mystery 9th Robot Master...

Technically speaking, back in the High School era, I did have one more RM I had been working on. In true order, he was the fifth design I was working on. His name was Quartz Man. He was going to be a time based RM, armed (literally) with a wristwatch device that gave him time control abilities. However, it was a case where a) I couldn't come up with a visual design I liked enough, and b) I couldn't really think of a solid way to give him time powers that felt unique enough. I think about the only solid part of his design aside from the watch was I think I wanted him to have glasses, I felt it would give him a sharper, more "intelligent" look. I think I had it in mind that he was sort of a strategist type, using his time powers in clever ways to gain the advantage. (EDIT : One further detail I remembered was his color pallet, I wanted him to have at least some sort of bright teal-ish green in reference to the "glow" function of digital watches.)

And so, that basically wraps up the ol' design process I went through over time for the RMN series. Hope you enjoyed this bit of personal history.

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mjonthetrack · 12 days ago

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vice queen II

Chapter 10: Red Flags and Radar

The bunker was cold, all cement and steel — no windows, just focus. That’s how Camille liked it when the women assembled at the war table, all five of them locked in and dialed up. Concrete beneath their heels, ledgers and tablets spread across the long obsidian slab in front of them.

The hum of industrial lighting buzzed overhead, casting a sharp glow as Camille stood at the head, pointer in hand, pages of the Black Mark Book splayed across the screens behind her.

“Territory’s too hot right now,” Camille said, her voice like velvet laced with smoke. “Something’s creeping in off the east. I’ve got two mules that ran numbers from the Colombian coke drop—and some new skeemers tryna intercept without calling it.”

Ariel, lounging with her feet kicked up on the arm of a chair, her perfectly manicured nails flying across the screen of her iPad, muttered, “Digital logs show a trail, but it’s been coded. Somebody thinks they slick.”

Marissa didn’t look up. She had her hair pulled into a tight ponytail, sitting cross-legged on the couch with two matte black glocks laid out like tarot cards in front of her. The twin steel beasts gleamed under the low light as she loaded fresh mags of her custom-grade bullets, each one engraved.

Sefa was hovering nearby — definitely too close — trying to get in good graces again.

“You want me to run the north point?” he offered, voice low, like she might not shoot him on sight.

She looked up just enough to ice him. “What I want is for you to stop breathing in my radius. I got targets to pick.”

He backed off with a grin, but not too far. That boy stayed pressed.

Lo, quiet as ever, was at the far end with her iPad angled perfectly to hide her FaceTime screen. She was tracking inventory logs, but Jacob’s voice hummed faintly through her AirPods as he checked in on corner shifts across town. Business and flirtation, equally dangerous.

And then there was Courtney — posted next to Camille, thick thighs crossed, nails tapping a rhythm against a thick stack of ledgers. Hair up in a sleek claw clip, Chanel frames perched low on her nose, chewing her pen cap as her glossed lips curved into a knowing smirk.

“Something’s flying low on the radar,” she said, voice syrupy and sharp. “From the drop areas in North Point and Central. Numbers only slightly off each count-up — like, half a band here, three quarters there.”

Camille tilted her head. “You ran back through the previous tallies?”

Courtney nodded and flipped a page. “Past three months. Consistent enough to be intentional. We’re lookin’ at roughly fifty bands a location that’s been skimmed — quietly, over time.”

Ariel perked up, now paying full attention. “That’s organized. That’s inside work.”

“Or somebody’s ghost riding our trucks,” Courtney said, pointing to a highlighted line on the page. “These hauls ain’t documented with any reroute, but the gas logs show delays. Trucks are being stopped just long enough.”

Camille’s lips curled, not into a smile — something darker. “Fifty bands at two locations, three months. That’s three hundred large.”

Marissa hummed. “Let me handle it. Give me one name and I’ll test out the new rounds.”

Courtney licked her thumb and flipped another page. “It’s not just the money though. It’s the pattern. Whoever’s skimming is buying time. Clocking our drops, learning the routes. They’re building something.”

Lo tapped the table. “I got inventory miscounts at the same locations. Whole crates going light, and I don’t miss.”

Camille folded her arms, tapping her lip with the tip of her pen. “Looks like it’s time to clean house.”

Courtney leaned back with a smirk. “Y’all ain’t gonna let me interrogate nobody? You know I look good with a knife and a deadline.”

“You look good doing anything,” Ariel snorted, “But sure, Miss Loud. First name’s yours.”

Marissa cocked her head. “Just make sure the second’s mine.”

Courtney clapped her hands. “Period.”

Camille gave a single nod, then looked around the room, every one of her girls locked in, ready to scorch earth if needed. This was why the empire stayed tight. Because the baddest of the bad were all seated right here.

And now?

Now they had a trail to burn.

Chapter 11: Armory Confessions

The clink of metal echoed off the walls of the bunker’s armory, the scent of gun oil and steel thick in the air. Racks of rifles, crates of fresh ammo, and handguns laid out like a deadly puzzle, all being accounted for with military-level precision.

Zilla stood at one of the central tables, heavy hands working through a fresh shipment of customized firearms. Matte black, chrome trimmed, serials filed off and clean. A small earpiece buzzed low with Camille’s voice confirming counts upstairs, but Zilla had it muted halfway. His mind was somewhere else.

Jey leaned against the ammo cage, sipping from a styrofoam cup, eyes following Zilla’s movements like he knew something was off.

“You triple-counted that box, blood,” Jey pointed out, raising a brow. “You good?”

Zilla grunted but didn’t answer right away. His dreads were tied back, jaw locked tight as he re-packed the tray of weapons. He moved like he was trying not to think, which only made it worse.

“Nah, talk to me,” Jey said, stepping forward and knocking his knuckles against the crate. “You don’t move like this unless something in your chest is twisting.”

Zilla finally exhaled, long and low, dropping the lid shut on the weapons case and resting both hands on top.

“It’s Maya,” he muttered.

Jey tilted his head. “She good?”

“She perfect.” Zilla paused. “She been... real attached to Miss Loud lately.”

Jey’s brow twitched. “Courtney?”

Zilla nodded once. “Won’t go to bed unless she FaceTimes. Said she wanna match fits every day now. Refused to eat unless Courtney ‘seasoned’ the plate. That lil girl deadass told me I needed to upgrade my drip ‘cause her second mama don’t like ‘broke boy energy.’”

Jey cracked up, nearly dropping his cup. “Yo—Maya’s wild for that.”

Zilla didn’t laugh. He just kept staring down at the sealed crate like it had answers.

“I ain’t never let no woman around Maya,” he finally said, voice low. “Ever.”

Jey’s amusement faded. “I know.”

“I don’t do that confusion shit. Don’t want Maya getting used to somebody that ain’t finna stick. Don’t want nobody playin momma if they not built for it.”

Jey nodded, taking that in. “Makes sense.”

“But Courtney... it ain’t even like I let her in. Maya dragged her in. Attached herself like glue and now—fuck, Jey—she act like Courtney been here forever.”

“And how you feel about that?” Jey asked, looking dead at him.

Zilla didn’t answer right away.

“I should be mad,” he said finally. “I should’ve shut that shit down. But... it felt easy. Natural. Maya happy. Laughing. Safe.”

Jey smirked. “And you?”

Zilla let out another breath, this one more like a growl. “I ain’t even know I could feel shit like this again, bruh.”

The silence stretched heavy between them. Zilla grabbed another clip, started counting bullets, but his hands were slower now, more distracted.

“She ain’t scared of me,” he muttered. “Courtney. She talks back. Makes jokes. Walks in my house like it’s hers. Ain’t phased by none of this empire shit. Maya be throwing tantrums, wildin’, she don’t flinch. Just handles it.”

“She chooses it,” Jey added quietly. “That’s the part that hit you.”

Zilla nodded once. “Yeah. She ain’t scared of the shadows I live in.”

They stood in silence a beat more. Jey finally tossed the empty cup in the bin.

“Well, blood... sound like the princess just picked her queen.”

Zilla didn’t smile, but his jaw eased a little. “That’s what I’m scared of.”

Chapter 12: Heels in the Armory

The hum of fluorescent lights buzzed low above the armory, echoing against concrete walls and metal shelves. Zilla was deep in his focus, his massive frame bent over an open crate of M4s, inspecting each one like they personally owed him money.

Jey was lounging on a nearby bench, lazily scrolling through something on his phone, boots kicked up and shoulders relaxed like a man who had no meetings the rest of the week.

Then—

Click. Click. Click.

The sound sliced clean through the thick air—sharp, confident, expensive. Chanel heels on bunker cement. Zilla didn’t even look up. He knew that sound.

Jey lifted a brow, smirk already forming. “Incoming,” he muttered under his breath.

Courtney strolled in, unbothered, long curls bouncing, lips glossed, body wrapped in one of her signature fits: cropped black Chanel blazer over a latex corset, high-waisted designer slacks hugging her curves, and the kind of earrings that whispered “I own more offshore accounts than you got socks.”

She stopped a few feet from Zilla, hands on her hips, raising a brow.

“Was supposed to be a girls thing,” she started, her voice smooth, biting at the edges. “But y’all think different. So I figured I’d throw you a bone—y’know, instead of letting you count the same glocks all day.”

Zilla turned then, slow, arms crossed as he looked her over. That usual storm cloud face still present, but his eyes definitely drifted lower than they were supposed to.

Courtney stepped forward, pulled a stack of ledgers from her designer tote, and held them out.

“We were in the war room,” she said, “chopping it up on numbers and people. I caught something off the rip.”

Zilla took the pages, flipping through as she went on.

“North Point and Central drop zones,” she said, tapping the edge of a sheet. “Every count-up for the past three months? Slightly off. Like, a half band here, three-quarters there. Real surgical shit. Consistent enough to be intentional. Quiet enough to avoid flagging auto-alerts.”

She folded her arms, watching him like she dared him to underestimate her.

“Fifty bands unaccounted for at each spot. Not all at once. Over time. Like someone was bleeding it slow, hoping we’d never notice.”

Zilla let out a low whistle as he scanned the clean breakdown, her handwriting tight, notes meticulous.

Jey stood up, now fully alert. “Damn, you sure?”

“I don’t miss,” Courtney said, lips quirking. “Ask Camille.”

Zilla looked up at her, something unreadable flickering across his face. A mix of curiosity and respect... and maybe a little bit of you turn me on when you do math. He set the ledgers down carefully.

“You know how many people go over these books before they even hit Camille’s table?” he asked.

“I ain’t most people,” she shot back.

Silence. Stretched between them like a live wire.

Jey broke it with a chuckle. “Maya might’ve picked the second mommy, but looks like Zilla got himself a second-in-command.”

Courtney rolled her eyes, snatching a gummy from the edge of the table and popping it in her mouth. “Don’t do too much now.”

Zilla finally cracked a smile, subtle but there. He leaned against the table and nodded once.

“Good eye, Loud.”

“I know,” she said sweetly, turning to leave with the same click-clack of those heels.

But just before she hit the door, she paused, glanced back.

“Oh, and baby daddy?” she purred.

Zilla lifted a brow.

“Tell Maya I ordered us matching Birkins. One pink, one gunmetal. She said she needs it for ‘gangsta recess.’” Then she winked and walked out like she ain’t just drop a mic and a bomb.

Jey whistled. “Boy. You in trouble.”

Zilla was already flipping through the ledger again, jaw tight, heart louder than the bunker silence.

Chapter 13: The Numbers Never Lie

The war room had a heartbeat tonight.

A low thrum of tension pulsed through the bunker like electricity in the walls. Blueprints were spread out, red dots marked with precision. Files stacked in color-coded folders lined the metal table at the center of the room—just beside two matte-black iPads flashing live feed from three different drop zones.

Zilla leaned forward with both fists planted on the table, broad shoulders tight beneath his black tee, that trademark Fatu storm face carved deep into his features. Jimmy stood to his left, arms crossed, a gold tooth peeking every time his jaw clenched.

The room was hot, not from the Miami heat—but from the weight of betrayal.

“She was right,” Jimmy muttered, tapping one of the printouts. “Three months. North Point and Central. Slight skims off the top, just enough not to hit trip wires.”

Zilla didn’t say anything. His eyes were burning holes through the sheets.

“They was real smooth,” Jimmy went on, voice calm but deadly. “Not greedy. Just consistent. That’s what makes it dangerous.”

“Somebody inside,” Zilla finally growled. “That kind of consistency don’t happen unless you got boots already under our roof.”

Jimmy nodded. “Could be distro. Could be loaders. Maybe one of the new dudes on drop security.”

Zilla pulled his tablet closer, flipping through the reports Courtney marked. Her notes were damn near surgical. Circled truck IDs, time stamps, name initials on who signed off. Even flagged some inconsistencies on digital ledgers that got past three different checkers.

“She circled these codes,” Zilla said. “Said they don’t match the standard drop site logs. And she was right. These numbers? Dummy codes. They been used to cloak transfer trails.”

Jimmy whistled low. “She knows her shit.”

“More than most of the men in this room,” Zilla muttered.

There was a beat of silence before Jimmy side-eyed him, smirking. “So that’s your girl now?”

Zilla ignored the jab. “She the only reason we caught this before it turned into a war.”

Jimmy’s grin dropped back into something sharper. “And now?”

Zilla turned to him, face set.

“Now we handle it.”

Cut to: A Black SUV — Midnight

The back of the SUV was silent except for the occasional chirp of the secure comms. Zilla was in the passenger seat, Jimmy behind the wheel, both dressed down in all black, sidearms strapped beneath jackets. The kind of look that said: We didn’t come to talk.

They pulled up outside a small distribution warehouse in Central. Legit business front on paper. But they already knew—this was the bleed point.

“You sure it’s the night shift?” Jimmy asked, glancing up at the cameras above the door.

Zilla held up his phone. A text from Courtney sat at the top. Camille sent her the full shift list. 3AM crew—two weak links.

Zilla nodded. “Let’s knock.”

Cut to: Inside the Warehouse — 3:12 AM

The two men sat duct-taped to metal chairs, sweat dripping from their brows, eyes darting everywhere but at the two Fatu kings pacing in front of them.

Jimmy leaned in, slow and precise, tapping one of the burner phones on the table. “You know what’s funny? You ain’t even try to cover your trail. Dummy accounts, fake routing codes—but no firewall? No cloaking IP?”

Zilla snorted. “Y’all dumb and disloyal.”

The man on the left opened his mouth to speak but choked on his words.

“We ain’t ask for talk yet,” Zilla snapped. “We wanted to see if you’d lie. But guess what?”

He held up Courtney’s ledgers, the ones she annotated in pink glitter pen. He slapped them on the table.

“She already told us the truth.”

The man flinched like he’d been hit.

Jimmy straightened, cracking his neck. “So now we just gotta decide how to end the lesson.”

Zilla drew his sidearm slow, the barrel shining under the low light.

Jimmy looked at his cousin. “Wanna send a message or wipe the slate?”

Zilla stared at the two rats.

Then:

“Both.”

Cut to: The Bunker — Sunrise

Courtney was sipping her iced coffee, sitting at the long table, looking like she just stepped off the runway—relaxed, poised, fresh nails clicking against her phone screen.

She didn’t flinch when the door opened and Zilla walked in, a little blood on his boots, a little less tension in his shoulders.

He tossed the ledgers onto the table in front of her. “Handled.”

Courtney raised a brow. “Both?”

He smirked. “Like you said—can’t play with our money.”

She nodded, then handed him her phone. A new ledger already halfway compiled. “Good. 'Cause I found three more inconsistencies.”

Zilla blinked.

Courtney just winked. “And I haven’t even had lunch yet.”

Chapter 14: Miss Loud Brings the System Online

The war table was packed with silence and tension—until it wasn’t.

Courtney stood at the head like it was a damn TED Talk for criminals, long legs crossed at the ankle, hip cocked with a calm kind of arrogance only she could pull off in a designer mini and Louboutins. Her fingers snapped once—pop—to break the attention of the three kingpins seated around the matte black table. The projector hummed to life behind her.

“Alright, y’all ready to stop playing Monopoly and start running shit like it’s 2025?” she said, popping her bubblegum, glossy lips curling into a grin.

Jimmy leaned back in his chair, brow raised, but a smirk playing on his mouth. Jey sat up straighter, already clocking her tone. Zilla just stared—quiet, unreadable—but his attention? Laser-focused.

Courtney tapped the projector remote. The sleek screen behind her blinked on, showing a crystal-clear interface with the Vice Queen insignia she helped Camille rebrand in soft violet against matte black.

“I got a new tool for y’all,” she said, walking to the side. Her heels clicked with authority. “Spent the last few days wiring a full digital scan and inventory system for the entire armory. Ammo, crates, weapons, accessories, even cleaning kits. We don’t gotta rely on manual counts anymore—and better? We got live tracking now.”

She pointed at the tablets in front of each of them. Custom, armored, and synced to the war network.

“Each kingpin got their own password. Camille and I crosslinked it through the secure net—triple encrypted, five-second refresh rate, location-lock failsafe. This ain’t Amazon, baby. This is black market luxe.”

Zilla’s brow twitched.

Jimmy leaned forward. “You coded this?”

Courtney popped another bubble, then grinned. “Wrote the framework, built the interface, and linked it through six firewalls. I don’t just look good in Chanel—I got skill sets, too.”

Then she turned to her Louis duffle, unzipping it slow. From inside, she pulled something the size of a thick nameplate—but smooth, see-through, and glinting with embedded tech. She held it up between two fingers.

“This,” she said proudly, “is my baby. I call her Cleopatra.”

Jey snorted. “You named the gear?”

“I name my lashes, too. You got a problem with personality?” she shot back, before walking to the demonstration table like she was revealing an art piece.

She placed the clear device atop a crate of unsorted ammo.

“Watch this.”

Tapping her watch, the projector updated in real-time. She pulled out her phone and typed in her access code. The screen blinked.

Suddenly, the tablets in front of each kingpin lit up.

Armory Crate #4A | Digital Readout:

5,000 hollow tips

3,600 rounds of 9mm

24 12-gauge scopes

7 silencers

18 repair kits

“Boom,” she said, chewing her gum. “Inventory scanned, logged, tracked. No one can move shit without your notification. It alerts on motion, weight loss, temperature shift, or tampering. And you can track anything across the entire compound, from the warehouse to the fleet to the armory lockers.”

Jimmy whistled. “You serious right now?”

Jey shook his head, a little impressed grin on his face. “This better than some of the stuff the feds been braggin’ about.”

Zilla, quiet and deadly, finally spoke.

“You built all this in three days?”

She shrugged. “Four if you count the mani/pedi break.”

Jimmy turned to Zilla with a grin. “Yo, how you let her run this whole tech game and steal your daughter’s heart?”

Zilla just watched Courtney with that low-burning intensity that made people forget to breathe.

“She do both like it’s easy,” he said, voice like gravel, “and she don’t even brag about it.”

Courtney grinned. “Oh, I brag. I just do it in heels so it hits different.”

She walked back to the head of the table, folded her arms, and stared the three down.

“Now you got real eyes on your arsenal. I’ll be updating the software weekly, and y’all better use it. Because if even a bullet goes missing and one of y’all didn’t log it—Camille said I got full rights to slap the shit outta you.”

Jey raised a brow. “She actually said that?”

Courtney smiled wide. “No. I added that part. But y’all ain’t gonna challenge me on it, right?”

The room was silent for a second.

Then Jimmy laughed. “Nah, Queen Loud. We hear you.”

Courtney turned on her heel, scooping her duffle.

“Good. Now I gotta go. Maya got ballet at five and told me I wasn’t allowed to be late or wear ‘ugly girl jeans.’”

Zilla huffed a breath out his nose—maybe a laugh. Maybe admiration.

Whatever it was, he was watching her walk out like she just rewrote the whole empire manual… in lip gloss and gum pop.

Chapter 15: Queen Approval Required

The lights in the war room were dimmed low, the only illumination coming from the glowing edge of the projector and the gold detailing on the maps across the back wall. The door clicked shut behind Jey, the last of the three Fatu men to enter.

Camille was already seated at the head of the table, her long dark nails tapping against a black leather notebook, lips painted a deep blood red. Her expression? Unbothered. Knowing. Regal as hell.

Jimmy took his seat to her right. Zilla settled across from her, arms folded tight across his chest, jaw twitching like he was holding something back. Jey leaned into the back of his chair, lacing his fingers across his stomach with that same laid-back but dangerous air he always carried.

Camille didn’t look up at first. Just flipped a page in her notebook.

“Y’all been circling like hawks for the past hour,” she said flatly, her tone bored but sharp. “Somebody gon’ tell me why or am I supposed to read minds now?”

Jimmy cleared his throat. “It’s about Courtney.”

Camille paused. Then finally raised her gaze, lashes slow to lift.

“What about her?”

Jey answered next. “The tech shit she dropped in our laps? That ain’t normal. That was next level. You knew she had that in her?”

Camille’s lips curved—just barely.

“Didn’t have to know. I trusted her to show me when she was ready.”

Zilla’s voice came last, low and rough.

“She got access to everything now. That tech system she built out—ain’t nobody slipping past it. Not unless they want a bullet in the back. That type of control? That ain’t just assistant work. That’s boss-level clearance.”

Camille’s smile grew, but it was more cutthroat than sweet.

“You asking me to promote her.”

Jimmy leaned in. “We’re saying it’s earned.”

Jey nodded. “That girl be in every room, every convo, every corner—but she don’t talk too much. She just listens. Works. Moves smarter than some of our oldest hitters.”

Zilla didn’t say anything at first.

But when Camille turned her sharp gaze to him, he met her eyes without flinching.

“She protect my daughter without blinking,” he said, low and clipped. “Used herself as a shield and didn’t think twice. Ain’t nobody earned trust like that. Not in my book.”

Camille leaned back slowly, steepling her fingers.

“Big Court,” she mused. “Y’all want her moved to what? A floor boss? Logistics head? You want me to slice off a piece of the tech division and hand her the reins?”

Jey shrugged. “Give her whatever she want. Hell, she built her own damn lane.”

Jimmy grinned. “Let her name her position. Just make it official.”

Camille took a long pause, then smiled.

“Funny. I was already planning to promote her. Just wanted to see how long it’d take y’all to catch up.”

They all blinked. Zilla tilted his head, suspicious.

“You already made the call?”

Camille laughed, dark and low.

“She got full clearance last night. I gave her an office upstairs. Room next to mine.”

Jey raised a brow. “She know?”

Camille leaned forward, voice velvet and steel.

“I told her this morning. Said she could choose the title herself.” Beat. “She said she’d think about it.” Smirk. “And then asked if she could have a velvet office chair that spins.”

Jimmy barked out a laugh.

Zilla exhaled through his nose, something like relief washing over his features.

Camille flipped her notebook shut and stood, heels clicking softly against the polished floor.

“She earned her stripes. And now? She moves how I move.”

She looked at each of them in turn.

“She’s not just with us. She’s one of us. Don’t get that shit twisted.”

Then she walked out, hips swaying, eyes burning with that queenpin fire.

The three men sat in silence for a beat.

Then Jimmy leaned over toward Zilla and grinned.

“Your little girl done chose the right Miss Loud to latch on to, huh?”

Zilla just smirked.

“Damn right she did.”

#zilla fatu x black oc #zilla fatu fanfiction #romance #x black oc #mature fic #crime au #dark romance

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vetsen · 4 months ago

Text

1890s library customs

Source: Public Library Handbook by Dana, John Cotton (1895). Link to Archive.org // This book mostly talks about hosting small libraries and how Denver Public Library operated.

Departments

Denver Public Library had two departments:

1. Reference department (also called reference library), which hosted...

encyclopedias

dictionaries

books on science

magazines/serials older than three months

this month's journals (assuming this means stuff like science journals)

You could NOT borrow books from the reference library, only read them within the library walls to ensure everyone could access them.

2. Circulating department (also called circulating library), which hosted...

fiction

magazines of this month and the two previous months (older ones were bound and sent to the reference library)

general works (encompasses all kinds of books, incl. collections, books on humanities, and yearbooks)

periodicals and journals that were older than one month and unbound

sheets of designs and photographs taken from illustrated journals, art magazines, works on design, etc.

These books could be borrowed by anyone with a borrower's card.

Fiction books could be kept for 7 days.

Magazines could be kept for 3 days.

General works, periodicals, journals, and the sheets could be kept for 14 days.

Borrowers

Anyone deemed local could get a borrower's card. Often, they needed a guarantor (although exceptions existed).

Borrower's card:

Replacing a lost card cost 10 cents, and the new one would be marked with a D to stand for 'duplicate.'

The card would expire in two years.

Using the library

Book lists

People who preferred not to browse for themselves could write lists of books they wish to read. This list should be written not with titles but the ID numbers of the books, it should be a list of minimum six books, and they should be written in order of intrigue. A borrower could give this list to the counter attendant, who would then go and look for these books starting from the first book listed. They would bring back whatever book was found.

So, if a list was of books A263, BG274, and X2746, the attendant would look for A263 first. If it was not available, they'd move on to look for BG274. If this was available, they'd bring this book back to the borrower.

At the counter, people with lists would be helped before people with only an individual book request, since the attendant would be wasting a lot of time if the person gave one book idea at a time, forcing the attendant to go back and forth.

(photo of a book list)

Browsing

Browsing books yourself was allowed in most bigger libraries: it wasn't required to use a list.

Reading at the library

You could read at the library, and it was generally asked that after you're done, you leave the book on the table. The attendants would return it to its right place.

Catalogues

Libraries had catalogues on their books, which could be browsed freely. These include finding lists and dictionary catalogues.

I'll add this here because it's not important enough to be its own entry. A type of a catalogue was the accession book, which was an invoice book. In it, librarians marked every single book that came into the library (in the order they came in) as well as its information. Thus, the accession book was a complete list of the library's contents over its lifetime.

Borrowing a book

1. Take your chosen book up to the counter, where the counter attendant should be (if they're doing their job well) and present your card.

2. The attendant removes the book card from the pocket pasted inside the book's front cover and writes the borrower's card number onto the book card.

a book card (also called a slip) contains the book's call number and thus identifies the book

the pocket is a small paper pocket big enough for the card

3. The attendant then stamps the pocket, the borrower's card, and the book card with today's date. If the return date is something other than the usual 3-14 days, the return date is also written on these cards and pocket.

4. The attendant places the borrower's card inside the pocket and the book card inside a box.

5. After closing, the attendant arranges all book cards in the box in the order of the numbers and letters (the book's identification number). They're then put in a file/a tray behind a guide card showing the date. (see photo below)

"Charges of Books in Circulation" means the book cards of books out in readers' houses. The verb "charge" is used a lot when talking of borrowing a book.

6. When the book is returned, the attendant ensures the dates on the pocket and the borrower's card match, then checks behind the guide card. If the date on the book card matches as well, everything is in order. The attendant stamps the borrower's card with today's date as proof the book has been returned.

What happens if you don't return a book on time

Every day, a fine of two cents is imposed.

Three days after the agreed date: A notification is sent notifying you of your "delinquency" (as the book puts it) and to request you return the book. This notification adds a fine of two cents.

Seven days after the agreed date: A notification is sent to the guarantor asking for them to collect and return the book as well as pay the fine.

Fourteen days after the agreed date: If the guarantor fails too, a "special messenger" will be sent to your house to collect both the book and the fine. This will add 25 cents to the fine (and/or 2 cents per block: the book mentions both).

If a book and/or the fee cannot be recovered, the borrower's card will be canceled, and they can't use the library again. The guarantor may not be accepted as a guarantor again.

In the case of a damaged/lost book, the borrower would have to pay for the new book as well as all the costs in getting the book back on the shelf (such as costs of binding or cutting if needed).

#history #library #victorian era #1890s #customs #writing resources #writeblr

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