#^._.^ death note theatre kid au ☆!!!

[victor-aguilar]

ali :333 whats misa like in ur au

HII CLOUDD TYSM FOR ASKING

This is all tentative, bc I'm still in the very early stages of planning it the overall fic. I only know how this starts so far. But here's what I have got her character notes so far:

Misa Amane.

Theatre kid.

15 years old.

Best friends with L Lawliet and Light Yagami, (she’s dating the latter).

Nicknames: Misa Misa, Princess, Angel.

Most popular girl in school.

Adored by all, she is seen as a sort of goddess within the student body.

Has an amazing voice and can dance.

Misa has light, curly hair that goes to her waist. She has airy bangs that go just past her eyebrows. She has light freckles dotting along her nose, cheeks, forehead, arms and necks and shoulders. She has a permanent sun-kissed glow about her. She has a kind demeanor. Her very presence is comforting. She is truly beloved by all. Often you'll find her at lunch putting on a performance for her fellow students, a complete song and dance routine, just as entertaining and enjoyable every time. She is very grateful for her popularity, but doesn't let it get to her. She remains humble and just through it all.

[cuteniarose]

HI I'M SORRY I JUST REMEMBERED THIS POST EXISTS AND THE DEATH NOTE REFERENCE MADE ME IMAGINE VAATU'S OVERLY DRAMATIC ASS WRITING HIS MANIFESTO AND GOING FULL LIGHT YAGAMI MODE, EXTREME CAMERA SHOTS, EPIC MUSIC, INTERNAL MONOLOGUE THEATRICALLY COMMENTATING HIS EVERY ACTION, TAKING A SNACK BREAK LIKE

"I'll take a potato chip... and EAT IT"

nobody bother him he’s writing his manifesto on why wan needs to die

metalbanders vaatu !!!!

for @shadelorde for finally making me pay attention to my vaatu and ofc for @nyenuma bc who knows which one of US started the hvac system rumor

[hivemuthur]

To Be Known - Ch.7.

viktorxfemale!reader explicit! (and I can't stress this enough, kids shoo!) Modern AU, set in London, current era but not very specific. It's just a love story.

<- previous chapter MASTERLIST next chapter ->

word count: 6,8K

warnings, or rather this chapter contains: safe word used, mentions of bullying and past trauma connected with it, domdrop (Reader's), fingering (anal & vaginal), asphyxiation via throat fucking, light slapping, crying, aftercare.

author’s note: Chapter in Reader's POV, we will get to know how Viktor dealt with the last time next week :) And as usual, playlist here, @rennethen my beta, massive thank you and artist is @petitesieste ♡

Cross-posted on AO3

—

It is unseasonably warm for October—uncanny, even. The kind of warmth that makes you forget time’s passing until the wind shifts and reminds you winter is only borrowing time. Noon has barely struck, but the sun hangs low in the sky, casting long golden streaks across the street where you and Mel sit outside the café, pretending this is a working breakfast and not just a socially sanctioned excuse to drink mimosas before lunch.

There’s the clink of cutlery, the soft shuffle of passers-by, the quiet buzz of a city moving just fast enough to keep the illusion of calm. You’ve shed your coat over the back of your chair. Mel’s sunglasses reflect the world back in amber, like it’s all just theatre—half-scripted, half-divine.

“Darling,” Mel sighs, her rings clinking against the half-empty glass of mimosa as she lifts it in lazy exasperation. “You are breaking my heart, you know this?” Truthfully, she’s long since made peace with the death of Hamlet in favour of Baal, but the buzz of champagne and orange juice in her bloodstream whispers sinisterly behind her ears to make you work for it anyway.

“It was yours or mine,” you say with a wide grin, lifting your own glass and draining the last sip.

“Well, aren’t I lucky you’re not handing me scraps instead,” she purrs. Her gaze sharpens, curious now. “Have you picked the director?”

“Yes,” you say, already reaching into your bag. With a triumphant smile, you unlock your phone and turn the screen towards her. A young, sharp-featured face beams back, the kind of face that says both promise and precision. The name beneath it carries just enough weight to satisfy.

Mel squints at the screen. “Oh, fun.” A pause, then a hum that edges toward approval. “Hmm.”

“Okay, also—” you reach back into your bag and pull out a folder, slapping it onto the table between your empty plates. “Screenplay. And,” you add, digging for another, “cast draft. Who I’d like.”

Mel raises a single brow as she drags the folder towards her. “I see you come prepared.” She flips lazily through a few pages, then closes it, and— “Have your Charlie contact my Charlie.”

You grin. “Are you serious?”

“As serious as I can be after three mimosas,” she replies, smoothing a hand over the folder. “But—! You’re coming to dinner on Friday.”

“I’ll take it,” you say, holding out your hand for a dramatic shake.

“There you go,” she smirks. “And now that business is conducted—what’s going on?” The change in her tone from professional to sickly sweet makes your skin prickle.

You blink. “Uh. All good?” Already unsettled, scrutinized in a way only Mel can, you sense a dramatic shift.

She shakes her head. “Not good enough. Who are they?”

You frown. “You’re weirding me out, Mel.”

She leans forward, elbows on the table, her eyes narrowed with delighted suspicion. “I know you,” she says softly, like she’s unveiling a magic trick. “Who is it you’re fucking that’s got you looking like a walking secret?”

You choke on your own spit.

“I knew it!” Mel exclaims, slamming a hand against the table, making the cutlery jump. She points at you, victorious. “See? I do know you.”

“Mel, please—” you groan, wiping your mouth and avoiding her gaze with studied precision. Your fingers linger on the napkin a beat too long. “Where is this coming from?”

“Have you seen yourself in the mirror?” Mel shoots back. “Or is it like Death Becomes Her? Are you actually a beautiful undead now?”

“Thank you for the compliment?” You wince. “I guess?”

“Why won’t you tell me? Is it a secret? Oh—” her voice lifts like a cat pouncing, “is it someone I know? Oh my God, is it Charlie?”

“Mel,” you say flatly, “I’m fairly sure Charlie’s gay. I’m actually completely certain.”

She throws her head back and groans your name, long and drawn-out. “Tell. Me.”

You laugh—sharp and too loud—trying to sound casual, but your pulse has started to flutter at the base of your throat. Your mouth is dry. You’ve never been good at lying to people who actually know you, and Mel? Mel sees too much.

“Mel, what is wrong with you!” you manage between cackles, folding into yourself, hoping humour can hide the way your cheeks burn. You can feel it, the blush rising like a flare warning. The panic tickles under your ribs, subtle and insistent.

“When was the last time you were actually doing someone?” she presses, tone exaggerated but her eyes razor-sharp. “I’m your friend, I really need to know!”

“There is no one! I’m just—happy,” you say a bit too quickly. You gesture at the folders in front of her, desperate for a redirect. “This—this is making me happy. All is well, I promise.”

Mel eyes you with all the grace and mercy of a hawk circling a field mouse. “Outright crap,” she declares. “I’ll find out sooner or later, and when I do, you will regret this.”

“You are terrifying,” you mutter. “How are you not the prime minister yet, I do not know.”

“That is because I have no interest in being the prime minister,” she replies coolly, lifting her empty mimosa glass like a sceptre. “Too many boring men and polyester suits.”

“Of course,” you roll your eyes.

“Will you at least come to the fucking dinner?”

You exhale, grateful for the pivot. “Of course I’ll come to the fucking dinner. Who’s going to be there, and what’s the occasion?”

“The occasion is that we can,” she says with a shrug. “As for participants—same old. Jayce, obviously. Salo is crashing with a friend. Mion. And Viktor.”

You pause. “Viktor?” Oh. Oh. That’s going to be... interesting.

“Yes, I blackmailed him into it,” Mel deadpans.

You narrow your eyes. “As I said—a menace.”

“That’s me,” she grins, teeth gleaming.

You’re fairly tipsy when you share your goodbyes, the bubbles from the mimosas still upsetting your balance. Mel, mercifully, has dropped the topic of your sex life—though you’re sure she’s only shelved it, waiting for a better moment to strike.

Your boots click against the pavement as you make your way towards the Young Vic, scarf trailing in the autumn air, and London shimmers like a half-kept secret around you. You cradle your bag to your chest as if it can shield you from your own thoughts.

Viktor. The name alone drips into your mind like ink in water, curling through every gap in your concentration. He’s seeped in already—through cracks you hadn’t realised were openings. Beautiful, soft-spoken, kind. Firm. The word sends a little shiver crawling down your neck, and you clench your fists on the bag, as if that might suppress the flutter rising in your stomach.

He’s the source of your daydreams and the reason you still can’t sit flat on the chair. You press your thighs together at the thought—bruises on your ass that you cherish like keepsakes. Hickeys and markings scattered over your stomach like dark petals, fading proof of the last time you couldn't keep your hands off each other. One of them still carries his quiet devotion—Moje děvče. My girl.—written against your skin in a tongue only you two share.

And truly, you don’t know what to make of it. Every time you try to find a conclusion, a category, some name for whatever it is you’ve made together—before the doubt can settle—you just go and see him. You haven’t lasted a week. Not in a long time. Neither has he.

It is hidden. Non-invasive. Technically under control. Yet somehow, it colours everything. Sometimes it costs you sleep, forces you into all-nighters just to catch up on the work you didn’t do while his cock was down your throat. And still—you’d never call it time wasted.

You pass a flower stall. Pale ranunculus nods at you from a weathered crate. You don’t stop, distrustful of your hands not to tremble. You should be thinking about the meeting with Charlie. About casting conflicts and union schedules and stage rigging deadlines. Instead, your mind loops like a stuck reel.

Last time—you were in control. And now you are not, three days in and no sign of Viktor.

You wonder if he is going through the same thing. If his hands remembered the way you told him what to do, or the way you kissed the breath out of him as if he was yours to keep. He hadn’t said much after. Just stayed, closer than usual, thumb dragging lazily across your hip like he needed the reassurance of skin. The way he looked at you—open, raw—like the wires inside him had been touched, just gently, but enough to spark.

And then there’s the way he doesn’t ask anymore. Just says stay. As though it's fact. As though your presence is a constant now, like the worn corners of his books or the steam curling out of his teacup.

You told yourself this would never be a thing. No attachments, no mess, no cliches. You worked too damn hard to get here—built your own name from scratch, patched it together with callouses and long nights and silence where your accent used to live before you scraped it down. No one ever made it easy for you. And you swore you’d never risk anything that might take it all away.

But if someone told you now to seal it or cut it off clean, you don’t know what you’d choose. You honestly don’t. Because he’s not just under your skin—he’s around you. Seeping in like warmth through a wall you didn’t mean to lower.

You wake up in his bed more often than not. Lips fitted to the pool between his collarbones, one of his legs always tangled in yours, arm slung over your waist. He tips his head back on the pillow to make room for your face in the crook of his throat. And you... like it.

You like his sleep-rough voice when he mumbles in Czech, half-syllables that mean nothing and everything. The weight of his gaze when he watches you get dressed. His hair all a mess, sticking up in tufts like he’s been electrocuted. How he stretches with a groan, like he’s made of rusty hinges.

And he never uses the crutch around you. You’ve noticed—when the limp sharpens, when his gait falters just slightly on cold mornings. He still pretends he’s fine. And you pretend not to see it. You say nothing. You just slow your pace.

Is that what this is now? Love in half-measures and silences? The comfort of letting someone lean, even when they won’t ask?

You shake the thoughts off like rain from a polyester coat. You’re almost there. Back to the real world, the safe world. Where you are sharp and clear, and no one sleeps with their face pressed to your chest like you are their home.

Still, you wonder. You wonder if he’s eaten. You wonder if he’s thinking about you too.

On the way, you stop to pick up two coffees from the corner cart—a bribe for the fact you’re showing up slightly tipsy and a full half-hour later than planned. The cups are too hot, the sun seeping through the windows too bright, and your balancing act with your phone wedged between two fingers is precarious at best.

Charlie is already unlocking the office room when you arrive. He doesn’t even look up as you approach—just says, “Had fun?” with a pointed lift of his eyebrow when he finally catches the slight wobble in your step.

“Yes,” you say breezily, pressing the coffee into his hand like it might soften the offence. “And—I come bearing good fortune. Mel wants to do Baal. Contact her Charlie, will you?”

“Ah yes. My nemesis.” Charlie accepts the drink but shoots you a baleful look over the lid. He takes a long, exaggerated sip. “Of course, boss.”

You snort. To this day, you have no idea what the other Charlie did to earn your Charlie’s eternal disdain. All you know is that your Charlie refers to him with the same tone he uses for fascists and incompetent lighting techs.

“What are we doing today?” you ask, shrugging off your bag and kicking the door closed behind you.

He taps a stack of papers laid out across the table—scheduling drafts, lighting plots, and a newly printed rehearsal plan annotated with someone’s increasingly frantic handwriting. “First, papers. Then—auditions. Then, some more papers.”

“Great,” you mutter, already dragging a chair out. You peel your coat off and hang it over the back. “I’ll do those. Can you take care of contacting costume designers for Baal? The sooner they know the tone we’re going for, the better.”

Charlie salutes with his coffee. “On it, Commander.”

You sit down, flipping through the first few sheets. The print swims a little. The coffee hasn’t hit yet, and you’re still too aware of the heat clinging to your skin and the ghost of Viktor’s name on your stomach. You drag your focus back to the table, back to the script drafts and tech breakdowns, and remind yourself to keep it together—for at least the next few hours.

You press your thumb to the corner of a page, trying to will the words into making sense. Eventually, you give up, rise from the chair, and begin pacing. Walking-reading. It’s mindless enough to let your bones stretch and your thoughts scatter.

Charlie’s still on the phone, murmuring something about budget estimates and stage rigging, one hand scribbling notes without looking. When he finally hangs up, he doesn't say anything—just shifts to the other side of the table and starts highlighting a call sheet in silence.

And then the buzzing starts. First once, then again, then again. Your phone stutters across the tabletop like a trapped insect. Finally, Charlie sighs and leans back in his chair. “Someone’s popular today.”

“I’d like to think I’m always popular,” you grin, not looking up. “Can you check if it’s important?” You nod toward your phone, stopping in the middle of the room.

He taps the screen twice and scrolls through notifications. “Let’s see... One Mel Medarda with dinner details—oh, Soho, fancy, good for you. One Richie, for a change happy, who would’ve thought... And... one Fidel Castro, clearly horny.”

You snort. Charlie’s eyes sparkle with mischief. “You better answer that one. After all, he’s a president. Or a dictator? Does that turn you on?”

“Sod off,” you mutter, snatching the phone from his hand.

He holds his palms up, mock-innocent. “I’m just saying. That’s state-level sexting.”

You roll your eyes and flick through to the message. FC is for Francis Crick. Yours is of course YV. The text says simply: What are you wearing? A sigh of relief fights with a huff in your throat. Not only he finally texts, but he’s also back to his usual self.

In the end you huff a laugh and text back: Clothes. Shouldn’t you be working?

The response comes swiftly: I am trying. And you are being a brat. I’ll ask again—what are you wearing?

You look down on yourself with raised eyebrows and answer truthfully: A wrinkled shirt and trousers covered in highlighters and hope. I smell like coffee and sin. Still want me?

And Viktor’s return text has you blushing all the way up to the tips of your ears as you nearly forget that Charlie is still there. Always. Sin suits you. Lose the trousers when you get here. Leave everything else on. Including the attitude.

You push it: I wasn’t aware we’re meeting today. Miss me already?

Viktor pushes back: Two points. Have you grown tired of sitting?

With a breathless cackle, you type: No, I actually miss it. And you are interrupting very important work I have to do.

You hit send before you can overthink it, locking your phone and trying to focus back on the papers in front of you. It lasts about ten seconds. His reply lands with a buzz that jolts up your spine.

And he takes the bait: Are you still sore? I’m flattered. It would go quicker if you weren’t being such a tease, moje děvče.

You fall back into your sit, painfully aware now of every ghost-touch on your thighs, the dull ache blooming low in your pelvis. You glance around—Charlie absorbed in his laptop—and bite your lip, hard.

You type slowly, fingers trembling: Oh, you are no fun. How is the sitting on your side going?

His answer comes quick, brutal in its simplicity: Hard. Do I have to beg you to come over today? I will, of course—but it will cost you.

Your thighs press together on instinct. Heat pools under your skin. You swallow thickly, trying not to make a sound.

I can afford it.

You stare at the screen, pulse tapping beneath your jaw, and bite back the smile curling your lips. Three dots jumping announce his imminent reply and there it is: Come over, please. All I can think of today is fucking you.

The sigh that leaves you is so audible that Charlie scolds you with the sound of your own name. "Oi! Get a room! So indecent—I’m telling HR on you."

"Shut up," you mumble, cheeks hot. "Let’s get to that rehearsal, shall we?"

Charlie snorts. "Look at her—‘let’s get to rehearsal,’ all professional now. One dick pic and you’re glowing."

"There is no dick pic, you absolute knob," you swat his chest, laughing despite yourself.

Before slipping your phone into your back pocket, you manage to fire off one last message to Viktor: I’ll be there at 9. Can’t wait to pay my debt. It was worth it.

"Eh, I’m just jealous," Charlie sighs theatrically, picking up the folders. "Last time I sent dirty texts, I was young, beautiful, full of hope. Now I’m full of espresso and stress."

"TMI, Charlie," you deadpan, holding the door open for him as you both head down the hallway.

"Says the person who just wiped her secret romance all over my face."

"It’s not a—" you start, but don’t get to finish. Because before you can bicker back, think of a clever remark or lob a joke his way, a voice soaks the air like acid. It carries from the corridor just ahead of the rehearsal room, familiar in a way that makes your spine lock and your stomach twist. The sound of your name, drawn out and sugar-sweet, but no less venomous for it.

“Cor blimey,” you mutter to yourself, inaudible, only lips moving.

"Gosh, how have you been? I’ve heard you made it, but I had to see it for myself, of course."

And then arms are around you in a mockery of a friendly embrace, syrupy and stiff. She even smells the same, that pusillanimous cunt—heavy English rose and the ghost of school corridors, all perfume and cruelty. Your last hope wears thin.

Images flash in your mind: disgusting naked snail on your sandwich. Cereal on your clothes. Dog shit in your shoes. Your underwear pinned to the school’s information board with a banner of your name above it and a ‘nice bloomers’ commentary underneath. Your knees, kicked and bleeding from cricket sticks, accidental of course. Face full of mud. Crotch cut out from your uniform pants. Teachers shrugging, telling you it’s just friendly, it’s just pranks, telling you off with a handwave that is merciful enough to not be a slap. An actual slap on your face once you mustered a courage to talk back.

Your grip tightens around the folder in your hands until the plastic creaks beneath your fingers. Blood simmers hot and fast, just under your skin.

"Sarah," you choke out. The name stings your throat.

She beams as if you’ve greeted an old friend. "I knew you’d remember me. You always were sentimental." Her voice is all soft vowels and thorns.

"What are you doing here?" you manage, even as your lungs start to tighten, even as your feet go cold. To stand eye to eye with your nemesis—this, this you didn’t expect.

"Oh, this is just auditioning!" Sarah answers, linking her hands over her chest in a dainty clasp. Her bracelets clink like wind chimes. "I heard you were working on Further than the Furthest Thing and thought—fate, you know? Mill Laverello is such a juicy role. I couldn’t resist."

Of course. Of course she couldn’t. You school your features into something blandly polite. "Well. Good to see you still acting."

"Oh, darling, we never stop acting, do we?" she smiles sweetly, eyes glittering. "You were always so… committed, even back in school. I remember watching you in Mother Courage. You were such a little soldier."

She leans in, voice dropping like a silk scarf. "So intense. Even when someone swapped your boots for two left feet." Her eyes sparkle with performative innocence. "Terribly clumsy of whoever did that."

Your mouth twitches, but you don’t bite. "It’s a hard play to forget. Especially when it sticks with you."

"Some things do stick." She glances you over—your trousers, your clipboard, the buzz of activity in the rehearsal space behind you. "I’m glad you landed on your feet, truly. I always said you had… potential."

Charlie reappears at your side, expression carefully unreadable. His arm brushes yours as he murmurs, "We should get inside and settle."

"Of course," you say, already half-turned. Then pause. You look at Sarah, smile a smile that’s all teeth and theatre. "Break a leg." The sweetness in your tone is a mirror to hers, just sharper.

Sarah’s lips purse. "Always."

You and Charlie head toward the rehearsal room. Once the door swings closed behind you, Charlie leans close to your ear. "Who’s that cunt?" he says, sotto voce. "Should I hire a hitman?"

You exhale, low and steady, the first breath that feels fully yours since she appeared. "No," you murmur. "Just keep her away from the props table."

"Done," he nods. "Tripwire it is."

It takes absolutely everything in you not to send Charlie for a crate of rotten tomatoes and pelt her with them during Sarah’s audition. To your utter and absolute relief, she hasn’t progressed an inch since school. It truly eludes you—how someone can possess this much gall, remain this mediocre, and still stand eye to eye with a person she once kept beneath her heel—now far above her, poised to snap her neck.

“Thank you, Sarah, that would be all,” you say, smiling through murder, your notes speaking for themselves. “We’ll get back to you once the decision is made.”

“Well, I hope you make the right one,” she challenges, and the skin stretches on your face. Seeing absolutely nothing coming from you, she finally gets off that damn stage.

Once she’s gone, Charlie whistles. He asks if you’re alright. You nod. You push through, using up all the energy and willpower. By the end of the day, you are an empty vessel—and not in a way you enjoy. All faces and documents blur into one mass of trouble, and all you can think of is Viktor.

Feeling your dignity torn away from you, this time you do run. To a cab, and then from the cab—to press the elevator button in Viktor’s building as many times as necessary for the lift to come downstairs and take you to him. Your foot twitches when you pace inside, and when the door dings open you fall out, take three huge steps to meet him, and throw yourself into his arms, wrapping them around his neck.

“Fuck me,” you breathe into his mouth, desperate and still angry from the day—and Viktor barely has time to swing the door shut behind you. “Please, fuck me,” you beg him, mussing his hair and untucking his shirt.

But Viktor—for fuck’s sake—you have no idea how, but he knows. He tries to still your hands, to pluck you off him, the initial chuckle you pushed out from his chest transforming into concern. “What happened?” he asks, breathy and flushed, hands framing your face now, trying to steady you.

“Nothing, I just—” you lean in again, kissing him hard, fingers tugging at his belt and then lower, groping him, wanting. “Please, Viktor.”

He exhales through his nose, eyes darkening. Then he catches your hair in a firm grip, forcing your head back, gaze locked. “Are you certain?” he murmurs, voice low and rasped. “Where is my attitude, hm?”

“Up my ass,” you bite, lips parted, breathing hard.

“Should I spank it to get it out?” he chides, spinning you around and pressing you up against the wall. One hand tugs down your trousers, the other slipping between your legs and squeezing your cheek, faint markings of his palms landing still there. He sneers when your head tilts back, eyes fluttering shut at the contact.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” you gasp, pouring oil into that fire.

Impatient now, Viktor pushes a finger between your cheeks—just enough to breach, just enough to tease—and your whole body jolts. A new kind of pressure, an invasion where you are the tightest, yet not unwelcomed.

“Oh, fuck—” you exhale, head thudding gently against the wall, voice shivering with pleasure, novelty of it burning through your nerves.

“Or should I try something different?” he breathes into your ear, back to holding your hair in his fist. “Now—tell me what happened. Or I won’t touch you anywhere else.”

“I had a bad day at work,” you say, swallowing heavily around the words.

“And?” he presses deeper, unmoved, his breath hot against your temple.

“That’s it,” you say again, the lie heavier this time, dragging the words from your throat like molasses. You know he can feel it. Know it in the pause that follows.

“Filthy liar,” Viktor mutters, lips ghosting along the shell of your ear. “I know you. What made you so needy?”

You shudder as his finger begins to move again—slow, shallow pushes that tease more than they satisfy. Shame curls around your spine, just as sharp as arousal, but it’s too tangled to separate. You grind back into his hand despite yourself.

“I missed you,” you offer, voice breathy, trembling, and it’s not untrue. You did. You do.

“How kind of you,” he drawls, sarcastic and cold. “But I will never believe in this natural progression from you being an utter brat in the afternoon to this needy little thing you are being now.”

He releases your hair, lets your head fall forward as his hand snakes around to your front. Two fingers slide between your folds, stroking slowly, expertly. His other hand stills just long enough for him to spit—wet heat landing between your cheeks, and you swear you can feel the trail of it as it slides downward. He watches it drip with open hunger, gaze dark and possessive.

“Ah, Viktor,” you mewl, hips bucking involuntarily into his hand.

“Shh,” he hisses, one hand working your clit in lazy, deliberate circles while the other returns to its rhythm behind. “You want it fast or slow, moje děvče? Actually, don’t answer. You don’t deserve either. You come when I let you, not before.”

Your knees nearly buckle, the pressure between humiliation and thirst twisting into something unbearable. There’s a heat behind your eyes you don’t understand—not tears, something sharper, older. Like the years you’ve spent armoured against the world are being peeled back by the stroke of a hand. Like being wanted this way—ugly, needy, and perverted—is worse than being rejected. And yet, you want more, all that he is giving.

Viktor’s mouth is against your neck now, his breath ragged as he speaks, each word a brand seared into your skin. "You like being used, don’t you? Bent over and desperate. So pretty when you let go. When you stop pretending."

The pressure on your clit builds until your back arches, lips parted in silent pleading. Viktor chuckles—sardonic, low, and pleased with himself. "My beautiful slut," he purrs, dragging his teeth along the edge of your jaw, "I was saving fucking your ass for a proper punishment… but it seems you’d enjoy it too much. Am I correct?"

“Don’t be mean,” you manage to breathe, your voice tight and trembling.

He outright cackles, deep and delighted. “That’s not me being mean,” he says, finger twitching where it’s buried inside you. “You just gave me something to look forward to.”

He moves again—more confidently now. The slick sound of him fingering your ass fills the tight space of his hallway, wet and obscene. His other hand teases your clit with slow, lazy pressure that borders on cruel. His spit has reached its destination, warmed by your skin, and the glide of his finger becomes easier, deeper, making you feel devastatingly full on one side and terribly empty on the other—where his fingers only ghost, only tease, refusing to push in.

He shifts behind you, muttering something sharp in Czech, the sound hot against your ear. His fingers play you like an instrument, and every note he strikes is a reminder that you're at his mercy, and worse—enjoying it. It sparks a warm feeling, how he sees through you. How he touches the part of you no one else has dared to even name.

“I’ll let you come,” he hums eventually, voice dark and dangerous. “But next time you lie to me, I’ll leave you like this—dripping, shaking, and empty.”

And with that, he curls his finger just so—one deliberate twist of his wrist and you break apart with a cry, body jerking against the wall, your vision blurring at the edges. Orgasm seizes your muscles, blinding, brutal and loud, your legs nearly giving out.

You barely register the aftershocks before his hands catch you—one still pressed between your legs, the other anchoring you by the hip. He pulls your back flush to his chest, not to comfort, but to control the tremble in your thighs as he rocks you gently from side to side.

He hums into your ear, voice silk-slick and merciless. “Don’t drift yet. I’m not done with you.”

You’re undone in a new way—raw, peeled open, seen. There’s no hiding in this kind of touch. No posturing. No power left to fake.

He does you a mercy and pulls your pants back up, the motion unhurried, clinical—so you don’t trip to your knees on the way. Another mercy: a cushion from the couch, laid carefully on the floor at his feet. He sinks down to sit, legs spread apart.

You obey without thinking. Kneel. Settle. He guides your face to his groin with a gentle pressure, the heat of him pressing through the fabric.

With a vacant mind and wet lips, you open your mouth for him. He unzips slowly, eyes on you the entire time. Watches how you follow the motion, slack-jawed and pliant. When he pulls himself out, you’re already leaning forward, tongue barely brushing his tip in a quiet plea for permission.

Viktor doesn’t speak. He just feeds it to you—slow, steady, the weight of him thick on your tongue, the slide firm against the roof of your mouth. One hand stays behind your head, keeping you close. The other settles on the armrest. You breathe through your nose, eyelids fluttering, trying to pace yourself, trying to disappear into the rhythm.

But Viktor never lets you disappear. He hums low, with consideration. “Still won’t tell me,” he murmurs, brushing a curl behind your ear. “You think if you stay quiet, I’ll let you get away with it.”

You suck him deeper. Your throat contracts around him and his breath catches, but he doesn’t lose track. Doesn’t lose control.

He cups the back of your skull, keeps you still—and gently rocks his hips until your nose brushes the base of him, coarse hair against your skin. You gag, just a little, throat convulsing, and Viktor coos above you, “There she is.”

He doesn’t force it deeper, doesn’t need to. The tremble in your jaw, the slick spit dripping down your chin—he sees it all. Then, with a slow pull of his hips, he lets you catch half a breath—

And slaps his cock across your cheek.

Not hard or cruel, but sharp enough to snap your attention back, and your flinch is immediate.

He doesn’t let you go. His hand clamps beneath your jaw, steady, thumb pressing into the hinge just below your ear. There is no words, he just watches. Tracks the twitch at the corner of your mouth, the way your brows pinch faintly as your body catches up to what just happened.

You keep your mouth open and don't move away. You’re trying—you think you are.

Then, he slaps you again, this time it’s a hand, and a tear spills from your right eye. You don’t know when it formed. It just… breaks the surface.

He takes his time. Slides his cock back into your mouth. Holds your head still with one hand while the other settles on your cheek like a brace—and then his palm lands across your face again. Not a full slap, not brutal, but real. Real enough to widen your eyes around him, real enough to rock something loose in your chest.

You try to stay with it, try to be good. He’s watching so closely, you know that, you know he’s watching every breath, every blink, but your throat tightens, and shoulders shake.

You can’t breathe through your nose anymore, and you don’t want to come off him, but you can’t—not like this. Not while something inside you is swelling and cresting and breaking at the same time.

He pulls out. Your lips hang open, glossy and trembling. You don’t even close them. You manage to whisper, "Viktor," and it cracks on the name, breaks like a splintered rib.

Viktor stills. Both hands on your face now, cradling. He doesn’t push, doesn’t speak. Just waits, thumb brushing over your damp cheekbone. But you don’t look up. Can’t.

“Stop,” you whisper, a ghost of a sound. His thumb brushes your cheek, collecting the tear you couldn’t stop. He strokes the corner of your mouth, slow and soft and devastatingly patient.

Your mouth opens again, this time not for him, but to let the word fall free:

“Red.”

You say it without breath, a broken seal. You expect everything to unravel—and it does, but not like you thought.

Viktor doesn’t curse. Doesn’t scold. Doesn’t pull away or press in. He just pulls. One arm loops around your back, the other around your waist, drawing you gently—carefully—up from the floor. He guides you into his chest with a quiet grunt of effort and balances the both of you there, on the edge of the couch.

You don’t even realise you're crying until the sob tears from you—ugly, open, animal. It wrenches from the depths of your chest, your mouth wet and slack against his collar. Your fingers scrabble at his shirt, clutching like you can fold yourself into the fabric, into him, make yourself disappear.

Viktor’s mouth finds the shell of your ear, whispering in soft, breath-warmed balm. "Shh, it's alright," he murmurs, his voice thick with worry. “You are okay.”

“I’m sorry,” you cry, the words tumbling out between hiccupping breaths. “I’m s-so sorry.”

His hand rubs circles between your shoulder blades, slow and grounding. “Baby,” he whispers. “There’s nothing wrong. You did nothing wrong.” You shake your head, jaw trembling. “Are you hurt?” he asks gently, pausing to tip his forehead to yours, trying to catch your eyes.

“N-no,” you gasp. “I just can’t—I just can’t stop crying, oh my God—”

“That’s alright,” he says, his voice cracking now too. “Cry, all you need to. All of it out.” He kisses your temple, breath hitching. “I didn’t mean to push you like that. I’m so sorry.”

His voice is hoarse. Barely louder than the wind rattling the windows. But it never falters.

It takes you the longest moment to even out your breathing, to find your lungs again, but you follow the rhythm of his—slow, measured, careful. When you finally manage to sigh, deep and long, the sound cracks a little—but it’s a start.

You lift your head. Hands brace on his shoulders for stability, but you don’t look up. Shame presses its nails into your skin, dragging you down with every heartbeat. Your breath still trembles as you pull away just enough to give him space—but his hand rises immediately, his knuckles finding the underside of your chin.

He tilts your face to his. Gently. And speaks your name like it’s the softest truth in the world.

“You do not have to tell me what exactly happened,” he says, low and firm. “But you need to let me know if something happened. Do you understand?”

You nod, eyes still blurry. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” His brows knit together, the words quiet but immediate. “There is nothing to apologise for.”

You hesitate. “Are you angry?”

He recoils—not away from you, but from the idea. “Jesus,” he breathes, one hand sliding to cup your cheek again. “Of course I’m not angry.”

“Viktor…”

“What?” His voice is warm, coaxing. He’s listening with his whole body.

You sniff hard, blinking fast. “God. There is snot all over your shirt.”

That gets a sound from him. A soft exhale, almost a laugh, almost a sob, but not quite either. His hand tightens just a little on your waist.

He says your name again. It sounds like love. “You are so wonderful,” he says, brushing his thumb under your eye. “So beautiful.” Then, a pause, a long one.

He draws in a breath, holds it, and you feel his fingers twitch slightly against your back.

“I—” he starts, and stops. The word falters like a misstep. He exhales instead, and shifts—just a fraction—before settling, his voice quieter than ever. “I am never angry with you.” It lands like a weight, like a shelter.

You are still not fully there when Viktor beckons you off his lap and stands up. Cane nowhere to be found again, you prop against each other and walk slowly to the bedroom, where he takes off your clothes and brings you a wet towel to clean your face. You can already feel the foreshadowed swelling that will follow you into the next day.

He undresses, and there is something oddly erotic about him pulling his shirt over his head and stepping out of his pants hurriedly just to cradle you in bed. You kneel on the mattress in your underwear and one of Jayce’s t-shirts—which you long stopped questioning why Viktor has so many of Jayce’s clothes in the first place. You watch him lay down with an arm swung behind his head, his hand resting on your thigh.

“Come lay down with me,” he says, but you sit still. Then, with pleading hands, you reach for the band of his boxers—and Viktor rises to stop them.

“No more of that today,” he says, gently, as if explaining something to a child.

And you have no idea how to tell him. That this is not about sex—it’s just about being there, in your favourite place. “But I—”

“No,” he shakes his head. “You should rest,” he says, running his knuckles along your leg.

You shake your head, frustrated. “I don’t want to—” you say, and it dies before it even leaves your mouth. You wave your hands around, trying to mimic whatever gesture would describe it fittingly. Tears begin to swell in your eyes again, exhausted and resigned.

“I just,” you try again, tucking hair behind your ear, “I just want to be close.” It’s all you manage, placing your palms flat on his thighs with a long, pleading sigh and wide, wet eyes.

Viktor looks completely dumbfounded and it takes him a moment to speak. “Of course,” he says, finally, visibly trying to tuck his awe away, retreating his hands to let you in.

Encouraged, you unroll the waistband of his underwear, just enough to reveal the base of him. Gently, you pull his soft cock out and place your cheek on the plane of his navel, lips barely touching skin.

That’s when you sigh. Deeply. Viktor can feel the weight of your shoulder on his thigh, your hands cradling his waist—and slowly, he relaxes too. He threads his fingers through your hair and lies back, watching you for the longest time, until you fall asleep there, where you feel safest.

[fleeglefazbeagle]

Andrew Peterson(The Wolf) headcanons/AU info

(DISCLAIMER: I refer to The Wolf as "Andrew" for the sake of the AU. The other thing I'd like to mention while he does have certain disorders in the AU, that is NOT why he's evil, he's evil simply because he's evil, it is NOT simply because he has certain disorders, I would NEVER demonize someone because they have a certain disorder and you shouldn't too as they're still people like you and I at the end of the day. Please remember that when reading this.)

Bio:

•Goes by he/it pronouns(usually he/him but doesn't mind it/its).

•It is maverique, thingix and gender apathetic.

°He's also heteroflexible, ace-spec and aroflux.

•He's about 6ft tall.

•Has BPD, PPD, autism, OCD and some anger issues.

•Born in October 25th 1940.

General info(TW for death, neglect and murder under cut):

•When Andrew was a kid, it wanted to have a museum about dark and morbid stuff when he grew up.

°He also wanted to become an actor and a singer/musician too.

•Gangly mf with bad posture.

°Despite this, it mocks Lorenzo for their bad posture(fucking hypocrite).

•He and Marvin were childhood friends but after Marvin found Andrew's manifesto, the friendship ended.

•Very capable of murder.

•Andrew's reason for killing the Watermans was because he thought they were "undesirable, sappy freaks".

•It initially fell in love with Rosa(his wife) because he thought she was ok and all that but then over the years, Andrew got rather bitter because of a simple disagreement.

°Basically, Rosa thought Andrew was too harsh on the Watermans and the fact that he barely spends time with Ralph.

•Andrew is all about theatrics(he was a theatre kid).✨

•The only time Andrew had a crush on a man was Marvin but he never really confessed because when it initially gained that crush, it was during the time when homosexuality was not allowed, it was only a year after it was made legal he implied it to Marvin but Marvin didn't really have a crush on him back.

°They both understood and continued on as simply friends even with Andrew being a little bummed out.

•He never really got to bond with his father as he barely interacted(makes the whole thing with it barely spending time with Ralph even worse).

°As for his mother, she died when it was 4 but please note that she was a sweet woman. :(

•Considering his OCD, he would repeatedly tap his pen while counting in its head or tapping his fingers against the table in a similar vein to the Other Mother from Coraline at various moments whenever bored, thinking, excited or annoyed.

°He'd also double check everything to make sure it's all in working order and going according to plan.

°The finger tapping also doubles as a stim considering his autism.

•On the topic of stims; Aside from the tapping, Andrew would randomly ramble to himself with no particular reason(although that's not to say that's always the case), repeat certain phrases or feel various textures very slowly and carefully, almost gentle.

•When watching horror films with his(now former) friends, he'd commentate over them whenever it's in a joking way or a critical way.

°The others do join in on the jokes when it comes to horror films.

•He started killing in 1977(36 years old, nearing 37).

That's all I can think of for now, hope you enjoyed them.

[sundewhasaudhd]

Hi Tumblr :D 👋

My name is Sundew, I’m a MINOR (high school age) I’m ace, pan, trigender, xenogender, ambiamorous, and use all pronouns

I’m an artist, actor, script writer, theatre kid, and AuDHD, EDS, and BPD haver

Special Interests: DSMP, musical theatre, casinos, Tumblr history, theology, and some others that I can’t think of off the top of my head

Hyperfixations (current and main, current and secondary, past and main, past and secondary): DSMP, Hatchetverse, Trolls, Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus, DDLC, The Skinjacker Trilogy, Descendants, Vocaloid, Nyan Neko Sugar Girls, Death Note (I haven’t watched/read it yet though), and Evillious Chronicles

Minor fandoms: Other musicals, Amphibia, TOH, ROTTMNT, Ramshackle (kind of), QSMP (kind of), Gravity Falls, Steven Universe, Chikn Nugget (that counts as a fandom right?), Bluey, SheRa, Ducktales, Adventure Time, Tangled the Series, DHMIS, Moral Orel, MLP, IDWTBAMG, TADC, Win or Lose, Kid Vampire/Mummy Joe and probably more tbh

I'm currently working on 5 different DSMP AU's/ animated fanfics, and one day I would like to make 'DSMP the Animated Series' and my high fantasy OC's cartoon, both of which would be indie animated and available on YouTube (but we'll cross those bridges when we get there)

This blog does not support cc!Wilbur or his actions, cc!Wilbur supporters DNI

Speaking of DNI, here’s my DNI list: queerphobes in ANY way (and that includes hating on xenogender people and people who use neopronouns), racists, sexist/misogynists, zionists, antisemitic/neo-nazis, islamophobes, anti therian and anti furry people, cc!Wilbur Soot/William Gold supporters, cc!Dream Team supporters, Robert Manion supporters

I post very sporadically because of school (and by post I mean post creative works, like fanart and scripts), but I post weekly doodle dumps from stuff I’ve drawn during school/on homework

Like I said earlier, I don’t not support cc!Wilbur in any way shape or form. That being said I really really super like c!Wilbur (o!Wilbur and q!Wilbur are neat too) and most of my AU’s have him as a big role

Feel free to ask me about my headcanons for any hyperfixations listed above, just know I might not always answer immediately because of school and shit like that

Here’s my tagging system:

Sundew Sanswers: ask tag

Sundew Yaps: tag for original posts

Sundew’s Scribbles: art tag (I HIGHLY recommend checking out this one)

Sundew’s Scripts: writing art (currently unused)

Also, I have a few side blogs:

@csundewsaysfuckitwebawl my DSMP OC role play blog

@yousummonusonceyousummonustwice my Lords in Black and Queen in White ask blog

@just-a-lil-theatre-guy my Hatchetverse OC role play blog

@bursssss-hesmyson my c!Wilbur AUs ask blog

Double also, say hello to my Tumblr siblings:

@rxccoonboo2 @cotableats (which is an account he and our friend Cota share) @a-sociopath-do-your-research @rae-unbeloved @loneycorner

@alchemicalwerewolf @silverwaredrawersys @beattlecub (no longer on Tumblr 😔😔😔)

Not a sibling (that I know of), but she’s one of, if not my closest online friend: @wigglyobsessedweirdo

Triple also, finally updated my pronouns

Anyway, I hope you all have a nice day and enjoy my Tumblr :D

[reverse-moon]

Playfully blaming @audrey-stawberry-1808 for reminding me what bops BMC music is.

(long post) An au very loosely based on all the songs from the musical! But it's not really the same because I try and shoehorn all 20 human into named roles which means I have to alter the plot a little.

List of who takes what roles (Blue small text like this means side note or little anecdote):

Jeremy - Rui and Mafuyu (da ourple cousins!)

Michael - Mizuki and Nene (Rui) An and Ena (Mafuyu) (Don't question An, I want her to be yeeting mountain dew)

Christine - Shiho (Rui) and Emu (Mafuyu) (side note, Mafuyu makes her cousin Rui sign up for the play stuff and Emu forced Shiho to as well with help from Ichika, Honami, Kohane and Kanade. But most of the play storyline goes to Mafuyu)

The Squips - Mostly Miku (Mafuyu) and Kaito (Rui) but the VS and their non crypton friends (Miku is the ringleader)

Rich - Akito. Mostly because I feel like he gives the most delinquent vibes of all the cast. (Unlockable side quest where he romances Toya or Tsukasa is available)

Brooke - Shizuku and Haruka

Jenna - Minori and Airi

Chloe - Saki

Awkward Gay boy(s) - Toya and Tsukasa (they act like brothers to the point Saki has many a time had to confirm Toya's just a close friend to the family.)

Ichika - Madeline (bg character originally, but now she has lore)

Honami - Katrina (bg character originally, but now she has lore)

Kohane - Madeleine (bg character originally, but now she has lore)

Kanade - Thalia (bg character originally, but now she has lore)

Normally, I'd probably not explain why I'm going with my Rare Pair of RuiShiho, but. Honestly, this one feels warranted, since Tsukasa would be a great Christine (if you don't agree you're LYING). It can be explained by the lore/my vision, so if you can forgive my straight ship (sarcastic but looking dead at all of the shippers who genuinely would) check below the cut!

So, in this "version" of it, Shiho and Emu are childhood friends. Shiho has always been more music based, while Emu was always theatrical. They both *knew* Tsukasa very well, since as kids Shiho and Emu were also super close to him, Saki, Honami and Ichika. Saki started to split off from them in middle school after her medical condition gave her a death scare and she moved to hang out with "the cool older kids" of Airi and Shizuku, eventually finding MMJ and forming the little clique.

Shiho and Emu got into the two sides of musical theatre because of Tsukasa, Shiho remaining as tech staff and stage hand while Emu and Tsukasa were onstage. Kudemy High (basically Mikudemy, but made more understanding of no VS) has a saying that if you see the pink puppy, the green tiger is nearby (basically saying Emu and Shiho are inseparable).

On the other hand, you have Rui and Mafuyu, cousins who live together with Rui's family after a custody dispute with Mafuyu's parents. The dad role actually gets replaced with my Kamishiro sibling OC Ayame and my estranged Asahina sibling OC Yuki (swapping as needed). Ena was big on art so when Nene was caught as a young kid overanalysing game art to prove she was right (she was) Ena became her friend by helping. Similarly, An and Mizuki became close friends early on. Then the 3 pairs of people got a class assignment together and became like family. (This does change 2 Player Game to 3, specifically with Rui, Mizuki and Nene.)

Because there's not a good dynamic difference between Emu and Tsukasa without kind of drastically rewriting one of the two, I leave Tsukasa as the background gay with Toya. Shiho and Emu have a yin-yang sort of dynamic, which balances with how Rui and Mafuyu also have one. And since I'm REALLY petty and must include a form of MafuEmu in every AU/Fic, changing her was non-negotiable with Mafuyu taking the place and being the Squip storyline starter. And unfortunately, Akito and Toya also weren't dynamic difference enough with Emu to make that function either. Akito is too stubborn and easily annoyed to accept being forced to sign up for the school play; Toya is too gentle to have a reason for being reluctant to sign up (especially with Tsukasa being a major influence in his life still).

And thus. I fall back upon my rarepair of RuiShiho. The one in which I am the pioneer.

I don't want to rewrite personality too much - hence why Mafuyu still has that lack of self even with not being with her parents who caused it and Rui still being his dramatic self but still reserved enough to have walls like in middle school. I tried to find ways to keep canon elements to them all.

And to quickly cover the last for on the list (Ichika, Honami, Kohane and Kanade) and what I mean by "now they have lore": Madeline, Madeline, Katrina and Thalia were all just played by main cast members in "The Smartphone Song". They have names, sure, but beyond that, they are just filler. So, in THIS, they all are part of Shiho's not-quite-a-band band. Ichika on guitar, Honami on drums, Kohane on lead vocals and sometimes guitar, Kanade on keyboard. The four of them helped Emu convince Shiho to sign up for the play, as well as convince Emu to not go to the party and basically help separate the sub-plots between Rui's Romance Arc™ and Mafuyu's Romance Arc™. In a weird way, I guess they also would be like narrators to a certain extent, or "hosts" for the audience.

For Squips, the initialisation voice would probably be Teto, and the visuals would be their main VS for the SEKAI from canon. Rui would see Kaito and Mafuyu Miku. After they both accidentally link their Squips, they would be able to see the other's Squips. Miku would be the "evil" one, but Kaito despite trying hard not to be would also become corrupt. It wouldn't be the versions in their SEKAI, though, it would be the defaults. In "Pitiful Children", you'd hear all the Cryptonloids singing in the chorus, and all the different vocal synths appearing as Squips for the school!

[sourveggies]

🎨🖌️ i n k 🌈📝 — Headcanons! :

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷˚꒷︶꒷꒷︶꒷꒥꒷︶꒷ ˚ ꒷︶꒷꒷︶꒷꒥꒷꒥

🧠 Diagnosis/Disorders:

Autism

ADHD

Nihilophobia (Fear of nothingness)

A weak stomache (or whatever a magical skeleton monster has- as he throws up from feeling extreme emotions & sensations)

🌈 Sexuality & Pronouns:

Aro-Ace spec. (Canon)

Pan

He / They (Canon)

✒️ Other! (detailed bc uhh I’m very cool & smart or something-):

Ink’s lack of empathy isn’t due to his soullessness or a disorder that affects his empathy level, but a lack of social understanding, Autism & is used as a subconscious coping mechanism (Some with Autism have a more difficult time understanding others. This does not necessarily mean they have a deficiency in empathy, but may have a few more hoops to leap through to understand it in certain regards)(It’s also important to note his past, immortality, job, probably witnessing numerous deaths daily & the fact he’s an Out!Code as factors on his outlook on AU’s & its inhabitants). (P.S. I just think it’d be extra fascinating!)

Ink has a secret envy for childhood (as he’s never been a child before).

Ink’s vials are like meds! (As he needs them to function, survive & regulate him & his emotions!) (I, however, do NOT view them like a drug addiction! That would imply those on meds who use them to simply function are addicted to drugs)

He has a contradictory, simultaneous inferiority/superiority complex to cope with his isolation (he still feels isolated as he’s still “outside the box” from others, more “knowing” than them, like his past in his original, unfinished AU; even if he doesn’t remember it. It still greatly affects who he is today & why he may not see others as real as himself).

He constantly paces around!

He’s a total theatre kid

He collects things he doesn’t need (plushies, shiny things, art, etc!)

His memory issues are due to his ADHD & the mental break he experienced when he tore his soul apart in the past as some can get brain damage from having a break. Also, I would imagine that tearing one’s soul would probably cause some sort of damage to someone’s being somehow.

He indulges & enjoys child-like activities whether it be for fun or to calm himself down (cartoons, plushies, etc.)

He likes the taste of burnt toast!

He’s a complete dumbass in social situations (States the obvious, can’t read the room most of the time, will crack jokes at the worst times possible, embarrass others on accident, blurt, fall on his face, break things, uncomfortable silences, talks over others, talk about things that are unrelated to the topic being discussed, etc.)

He likes clowns & mimes & doesn’t understand why anyone would be afraid of them

He has a secret “Turning Red” - like sketchbook & would die of embarrassment if anyone found or read it (Reference to the movie when Mei was under the bed)(LMFAO-)

Ink belongs to comyet

🌈🎨🎭🗯️🖌️

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷˚꒷︶꒷꒷︶꒷꒥꒷︶꒷ ˚ ꒷︶꒷꒷︶꒷꒥꒷꒥

[totaled-drama]

hi

uh...

Can you explain Little League? Thnaks..

Hi!! Thank you for the question.

The Little League AU places the gen 4 cast onto little league hockey teams based on their teams in season 1. The Frogs of Death team is called the Leap Frogs, and the Ferocious Trout team is called the Flying Fish in this AU. All of the gen 4 characters are 9-10 years old.

Lightning and Svetlana are the coaches for the Leap Frogs team, while Jacques and Josee are the coaches for the Flying Fish team. Sky and Jo are assistant coaches for the teams. The other alters in the system will coach the team as well if Svetlana isn’t fronting.

Plot lines in this AU directly reference canon!! They do not line up 100% correctly, and I have heavily edited the plot lines to make them make sense with the new setting, but they use canon as a guideline. For example, Millie still writes about everyone, but she writes in a diary with glitter pen, and all of her notes are just silly complaints that a kid would have (“Axel wouldn’t let me use her green marker to color in my picture :(” or “Ripper is mean! >:(”).

Some plot lines don’t take place at the hockey rink. For example, S1E6 is trip to an amusement park that has a catapult ride. S2E1-5 all take place at the school during field day, so the kids are on field day teams (their season 2 teams) during those plot lines. Their hockey teams remain the same during this time; those don’t change at all in this AU. The Frogs are still Frogs in season 2, and the Fish are still Fish.

The hockey program in this AU is directly connected to their school, so the hockey program is kind of like an after school club. The three main locations in this AU are the hockey rink, the school, and the theatre. The theatre is where Nichelle performs at (instead of being a famous actress).

The gen 1-3 and RR casts also show up in this AU. They mostly work at the hockey rink, school, or theatre, but some of them work elsewhere (Chet and Lorenzo work at a card shop in town and host D&D games there, for example). All of the gen 1-3 characters in this AU are in their mid-late twenties.

A lot of the plot lines for gen 1-3 also have parallels to canon in this AU, but the vast majority of them happened when they were still in high school.

I’m going to eventually write a fic for the LL AU, so it’ll probably all make more sense once the plot lines are written out completely, but this is most of the basic information about the AU!! If anyone has any questions about a specific plot line or character, please let me know. :)

I always tag my LL AU posts with “#td little league au,” so you can look through that tag if you want to see my previous art for this AU and answers to questions people have asked me in the past!!

[unapologetiicapathy]

OKAY HELLO THERE FOLKS im here rn to tell you abt a heathers au i have where jd survives !! i wrote most of this vv late at night so forgive me if it doesnt make sense or if its dumb lol, also this is based off the movie bcuz i havent seen the musical yet

(copypasted from notes)

(putting it under the cut cuz its long as FUCK)

-okay so theres multiple versions i have of this au, in one of them jd and veronica arent together, but that made me kinda sad (my poor little mega-crush-on-jd heart doesnt want him to be lonely </3) so i have another au where their shared secrets end up keeping them together, and then that one also has two versions, one where they have a kid and one where they dont (this is proof i have too much free time amd i write shit way too late at night) (also i have way more hcs abt the "they do stay together" version lmao)

-so the bomb didnt work quite as well as he thought it wld. he still got blown the fuck up but not bad enough to kill him (obvi). someone called an ambulance (im not sure who but definitely not veronica /lh), he got rushed off to hospital, he was there for quite a while and got a lot of scars and stuff but somehow he managed to survive (they thought he was a total goner man)

-veronica didnt know he was still alive for a few weeks. the explosion was on the news, but she was majorly avoiding tv altogether at the time (no matter where you are the news is always reporting on some sort of death and tragedy, and it served as WAYYYYY too much of a reminder of what she and jd did). she didnt find out til she actually saw him in person

-she was at the 711 (or wherever the fuck they got the slushies from idk its midnight rn) getting potato chips (yes this is an important detail to me. dont ask me why.) and he happened to be there at the same time

-she totally freaked the hell out when she saw him ("no. no! youre dead! youre dead! youre fucking dead!" "well you see, the thing is, im actually not.") and it took her awhile to come to terms with the situation

-in the "veronica-less" au, they ran into each other a few times after that, veronica refused to talk with him, and he ended up leaving sherwood and going to. um. somewhere else idk thats honestly as far as i got with this version 👍👍👍

-in the "they stay together" version (holy fuck i need proper names for these man), they also kept running into each other, but this time it worked out different yk (god i sound stupid sorry). they were both rlly conflicted abt it. it was like they both wanted to see each other again, but at the same time it felt like the worst thing that cld possibly happen. but you see, it kept happening. and happening. and happening. its like they couldnt  avoid each other. and at some point or another, they started just wanting it to happen. then kind of actively trying to make it happen. and then he finally just asked her out. she said no bcuz she needed some time to think abt it (they did go out a couple weeks later tho)

-(skip back in time a lil here bcuz im a fuckin scatterbrain lmao) when veronica found out jd was still alive she was scared of him yk (i mean i wld be too if my supposed-to-be-dead ex showed up outta nowhere) but she realised that like. he changed. smth happened in his silly lil head when he nearlu died, and he realised that everything that happened was totally fucked up and he actually regrets it and wants to do things different yk. (wanna be a better person? have a near-death experience /j)

-youd expect them to go get slushies when they finally do go on a date. NOPE. they actually go out for breakfast and get waffles (jd absolutely 100% loves waffles and you cannot convince me otherwise)

-at some point or another, veronica buys him little vinyl dinosaur stickers (yknow like the kind you can put on laptops and helmets and stuff). i dont know when this happens. i dont know why this happens. but i know it happens.

-jd kinda wants to be a theatre actor for a lil while, he ends up having tiny roles in a few things but he never rlly has any cool roles yk (im not quire sure why this is part of my au now but its probably just bcuz i wanna watch the musical lmao)

-okay i told you there was two points where this au branches off and congratulations youve just reached the second point 👍👍👍 this is where the path splits between "jd and veronica with no kids" and "jd and veronica with a kid"

-in the "no kids" version, they cant have a kid bcuz theyre scared that they wont be able to raise a child properly and the kid will turn out like they did, and thats the scariest thought in the world to them

-in the "jd and veronica with kids" version (srsly i need the power to create au titles man eueueue), they have a teenage daughter named alina

-theyre super super SUPER protective of her and like theyre always fretting abt whether theyre doing a good job

-they dont tell her abt what they did in '88 bcuz theyre worried abt how shell react, sometimes they think maybe they shld say smth but they always end up agreeing to "just wait til later" (theyre never gonna tell her man theres no way in hell)

-jd knows that the only reason veronica was involved in the deaths was bcuz she was with him, and so he gets extra extra worried whenever alina starts dating someone bcuz hes scared that shell get taken down the same path that he took veronica down all those years ago (which is very unlikely but i mean can ya blame him?)

-jd 100% needs therapy but cant get it bcuz how the fuck do you tell a therapist that you murdered three ppl and then tried to explode yourself. so instead he has a diary he writes in every day and he uses it as sort of self-therapy (i tooooootally didnt just take one of my own personality traits or habits or wtvr the word is and give it to him. totally not. totally. 👍)

-uh thats it for now but i definitely have more au hcs tucked away in my one singular braincell, i just need to find em apparently- also apologies for the excessive parentheses 👍👍👍

[buffporcupine]

death note headcanons

because i know my death note mutuals aren’t getting what they wanted from me

light

-can crack his elbows the way one would crack their knuckles

-probably had to do a musical elective in his first year of middle school and chose guitar cause he thought it would be easy but it wasn’t.

-the type of song he really enjoys is very specific. going to hell yet i tried so so hard to please god song. i missed my only chance song. why wasn’t i like the other kids song. thrones playlist. i could elaborate but i won’t

-as for sexuality, i see him as not wanting to put a label on whatever he is in theory but in practice being some type of bispec (probably berriromantic) for romantic attraction and then somewhere on the asexual spectrum for sexual attraction.

-as for gender i see him as agender whose not really in labeling himself as anything when it comes to sexuality and gender.

-agender but probably 100% fine with being super male presenting. he just wants to keep out of gender as a convo and that’s great. good for him

-no!!!!! i refuse to say this mf is aromantic (because it’s not accurate and it’d be an insult to aromantic people to say he’s aro)!!!!!

-just because he manipulated misa and kiyomi into doing his bidding and didn’t love them doesn’t immediately make him aro. i’m sure he could have found someone if he wanted to, and he could have loved them if he was with them to love them, but he wasn’t with them to love them he was with them to use them.

misa

-half belgian half japanese. her parents met in belgium while her father was on vacation.

-also im torn bcos i wanna write an au where misa is mexican and that’s it everything else is the same as canon but i’m pretty sure that’s just me wanting her to be even more Like Me (tm)

-speaks a little bit of english, way more french, and obvi japanese. finds linguistics interesting but doesn’t have enough time to research it that thoroughly

-likes being short and “small” small girl aesthetic i guess but sometimes wishes she had longer legs so she could wear skirts w/o looking silly and short

-panromantic does not see gender at all when becoming attracted to someone. i see her as def on the ace spectrum, maybe something like demisexual or aegosexual. could be me projecting dunno.

-she’s probably dated both girls and boys before

-would NOT break up with someone in a rude way or just dump them. she’d put a lot of effort into an apology and explanation into why.

-if she met miu iruma they’d be best friends. sorry i bring danganronpa into everything guys

-can we please just appeciate mexican misa for a second. she’s cooking sopa de fideo for the task and being the bilingual hot girl we all needed

-mexican misa

-as for her music taste she probably listens to upbeat english language music and sappy love songs. “there is a light that never goes out” and “melt with you” sound like go-tos for her sorry. i could also see her being a bimbo pop ayesha + britney manson girlie though

-tbh whatever your race/ethnicity is you could project it onto misa and it’d work. i love it. anyway d d d d d d d did i say m m m mexican misa

-i think she’d love love love getting her hair done!!! sensitive scalp mf but she’d still love getting her hair done

-mexican misa visiting mexico and getting braids and cute clothes and her fave candy

-was not a theatre kid. sorry guys but her middle and high school didn’t offer theatre 😔😔

lawliet

-chronically dehydrated just because he forgets to drink water. he tries to drink water and always gets afraid of developing kidney / liver problems but he just keeps forgetting. what the fuck L

-soup stan i think he’d love some good soup. soup stan x soup cooker (lawmane)

-i think you could have a really deep convo about anything with L. if you’re passionate about anything he’ll just listen and he’ll talk to you about what he’s passionate about to. he loves to think and would def entertain you with a convo about whether a hot dog is a sandwich or something dumb like that you know.

-he’s a thinker he just loves discussions

-has a british accent when speaking english bcos watari and lived in england you know. he thinks british accents in english sound good tho and LOVES making fun of how silly new york accents are (me too bro. me too)

-if he went to middle school or the japanese/british equivalent of it, he’d def be the type to choose some weird ass elective fucking creative writing instead of the “normal” guitar, choir, band, orchestra and shit

[victor-aguilar]

Okay i came here to ask your fave moments in the dn musical but then I saw you have a dn theatre au?? Pls tell me EVERYTHING (and also your fave dntm moments)

OMG HI I LOVE YOUR BLOG IS SOOO COOL ALSO OMG TY YEAH!! You're actually the first person to ask me abt dntm, which is one of my favourite things to talk abt alshslsj.

Favourite DNTM scene has gotta be mortals and fools i think. stalemate and twta close seconds... just !!! the way misa is so sure of herself and kira's love and how sure she is of it being reciprocated... and rem's pleading to try and convince misa love is nothing but bad. and ughhh ALL WHILE??? ALL WHILE SHE HERSELF FALLS FOR MISA??? OBSESSED.

i mean i could go on abt everything but i haven't watched the musical in full, so really all i know is the songs and im this obsessed yikes

also my standard reminder to you all LISTEN TO DEAN JOHN WILSONS THE WAY THINGS ARE okie ty

now to actually answer your question sksjdkslj

MY AU!!! THANK YOU FOR ASKING!! TYTYTYTYSMMM

SO BASICALLY It's this au, where L, light and misa are best friends in their freshman year. misa is the most popular girl in school, she's basically a princess and everyone worships her. Light, her boyfriend, is the most popular guy in school as well the smartest. everyone wants to be his friend, or go out with him, or be him. as for him being the smartest, it's kinda true. he has this academic rival, l lawliet. they tie in everything. they have this very heated competition to who is the best at everything. all the other students think they despise each other, but that's actually far from the truth. they're best friends!! they have been since they five actually. they just both let their egos get the best of them. misa is just as part of the group as the other two btw!!!

so, the three are cast as the leads every year in the musical. they have been every year, this was how it worked, no one else seemed to have a problem with it either, so it went unchanged. misa and light were usually the romantic leads, and l would be the other male lead, like for example 7th grade, they were light/jack, misa/kath and l/davey in newsies! anyway, this year however, they find out, (to the boys horror) l and Light were cast as the romantic leads this time. anyway, this leads to painful revelations, healthy communication, unhealthy secrets and suppression and melodrama!!!

agjjddjk that's the main summary of it least. the fic will progress over the course of the year, with occasional flashback chapters bc their backstory in this au is probably my favourite part. there are many things still in development rn, like what to name the fic, and what their school musical should be, anyway yeah!! chapter 1 should be out soon, it's the first day of school :) yeah, tysm for listening!!! and asking ^_^

[treezxu]

Could you list all of your Au’s and what each acronym stands for

YEAHYEAHYEAH!!! I HOPE I GET EM ALL LMAO THIS GOES SOOOO FAR BACK

this includes aus without tags but i'll tag the ones that have tags lol

EAPS au. Evan afton's pizzeria simulator: evan survives the bite and goes on to be scooped, later reuniting with an alive and healthy michael in ffps. shenanigans ensue

N? au. Normal? Aftons au: The afton kids survive and evan and michael, along with a ton of other characters, have to work to stop william elizabeth and a mystery killer

normal aftons au: just ur run of the mill happy au. everyones normal and silly

mm au. Murder Mystery au: Afton kids live and liz calls them to solve the mystery of their father's disappearance while they uncover certain... concerning things

Pitdad au: william gets springlocked before he can kill any kids and becomes springbonnie early on. springbonnie also becomes sentient and the two of them have to mend the family william has neglected for so long

dysfunctionally functioning au: Nobody dies but the afton kids have to learn to deal with their abusive household dynamic (important note! the abbreviation for the fic of this au is gbwwwg and stands for getting by with what we've got.)

Wizard's Quest au: Springtrap and William team up in ucn to escape while its in a fantasy type landscape

Michael's robots au: William, Henry, and Michael build the robots together following the deaths of michaels siblings. however not only does william has a lot of dark secrets, mcihael is learning a whole lot about his robot friends (like how. yk. theyre possessed)

Swap au: Exactly what it sounds like. Elizabeth is michael, michael is the puppet, evan is circus baby, charlie and sammy are golden duo, and theres other thigns im not getting into rn

fnaf x tadc au: just the fnaf characters getting put in the digital circus world

fnaf x ut au: fnaf/undertale crossover but i changed so much its unrecognizable at some points

Werewolf will au: william is a werewolf adn kills people and manipulates his friends while keeping his kids hidden for evil nefarious reasons

Employee trio au: William drags vanessa and henry into killing people and everything goes to shit

kill ur dad au: Michael kills william and drags evan in to help him cover it up. unfortunately, william always comes back

Traveling circus au: the funtimes, as humans, run a circus and meet elizabeth who got lost when her father had a springlock accident. while htye take care of her, william gets help from a shady wizard and things dont go well

Fnaf theatre au: where the fnaf game characters are a highschool theatre class and end up making a huuuge broadway show that retells the fnaf movie

anthro au: everyones a furry and the aftons are searching for william who disappeared many years ago

Golden memories au: Evan and Cassidy fail to keep william in ucn and end up losing their memories of everything past being killed (which includes meeting each other officiall) and help cassie throughout ruin

this isnt rlly important but good ending tfc au: novel elizabeth goes home with charlie instead of dying and they become friends

scrap baby's pizzeria: scrap baby (not liz), lefty (charlie), and molten freddy run a pizzeria in ucn and have to watch william while cassidy is away on torture vacation

Foxymike au: Michael is a robot william built years ago. he looks like foxy and ev n liz dig him up and decide to adopt him as their new big brother while william has a more special, evil plan for him

Lizzie time travel au: Elizabeth travels back in time after fnaf 6 and has to fix everything

the immortal and the restless au: Evan survives the bite and both him and mike work to fix everything, but they dont meet again until fnaf 6. evan burns down fnaf 3, and mike still gets scooped and all.

Fredbear sb plush au: Evan follows greg around as a possessed discontinued golden freddy plushy and they become besties

glitched mike au: au where michael goes looking for his missing sister and gets wrapped up in the remains of glitchtrap, whos clawing his way back to life

Zombiegolf au: Michael works at the pizzaplex and is bestfriends with monty and theres other lore but william is glitchtrap, evan and liz r there, and gregory is there lolz

Zombie apocolypse au: William accidently makes a zombie virus and everything goes to shit while his kids search for him and he finds his ex wife again

time travel crack au: Michael goes back in time but hes like. nine. and hes pissed as fuck and is trying to kill his dad wiht cassidy

fnaf wcm au: Ellis goes to the pizzaplex and meets the ghosts of the people who died there (most notably tony, gregory, and cassie) but somethings wrong. gregorys still alive...

Monster Island au: (the fic for this is deep end!) au where the animatronics are giant monsters on an island where a bunch of kids get stranded (afton kids, mci kids, sb kids, ect)

mer cbby au: circus baby is a mermaid that michael befriends (not liz!!!)

Michaels plush shop: michaels family gets cursed as plushies and he realizes any plushy he makes comes to life so he just has a funny little plushy family

flashlight frights au: flashlight duo are springbon and golden freddy and they r besties while william runs fazbear frights and jeremy, michael, and vanessa are security guards there

fredbears pizza mania au: glitchtrap remakes the afton family in a video game and they become sentient

little nightmares au: au based on the LN games. full of angst and horror adn afton brothers

Cityscape au: Au where its all futuristic shenanigans centered around glitchtrap vanny and the sb kids

afton house of horrors au: au where the afton kids meet the very kind hearted robots fredbear, springbonnie, circus baby, and ennard. unfortunately for htem, williams testing his nightmare gas in that house

ucn mike au: post fnaf 4 mike gets stuck in ucn bc cassidy fucked up the timeline and hes stuck with william

warrior cats au: jsut fnaf retold with kitties

Elliz sb protag au: Ellis is the sb protagonist and befriends monty

Williams apprentice au: Elizabeth lives and becomes williams helper

Williams successor au: an au based on a post by @/puhpandas (go follow him!!!! NEOW!!!) where william tries to make evan his successor and evan flips him the bird

Afton family business au: a murder family au catered to me

the sun sets in utah au: Elizabeth, grown by now, returns home after college to find both it and the people in it have changed so much. Especially her family

Glamrock baby au: Elizabeth in the pizzaplex what will she do

marionette emily au: charlie is accidently killed possesses the puppet. henry takes her as his daughter still. what could go wrong? (a lot)

the puppet and the carver: Charlie is trying to get her father to move on, but he has work to do. So much work. A lot of charlie and henry angst n stuff

summer camp au: Michael dies and is a ghost and his family + cassidy investigate

those are the ones of note i can think offff they dont all have tags like i said. I'll link this on my pinned post btw so anyone can find it

[moonpool-system]

Fictive & other introject source list!

Partway for personal records and partway an invitation to ask us about source/fictive related things! Our system management can make sure no questions are directed at members uncomfortable with answering, so please feel free to engage respectfully regarding source stuff! 💙

While most of our introjects do identify as an iteration of their sourceselves and have the memories to match, please keep in mind that some things about us and our memories might be divergent or completely different from source, and consider that you might get an answer different from what you expect because of this.

Please remember that we don't agree with every single ideal expressed in every single one of these sources! Just because we have fictives from somewhere doesn't mean we're caught up on The Discourse™ or support every sketchy ideology connected to it. Thank you!

Sources marked with a ✨ are our sources most important to the system in some way!

Sources marked with a 🪶 are our sources most important in a different alterhuman context in some way!

And now, on to the list!

🎲 Game sources 🎮

[Game sources]

- Celeste ✨🪶

- Splatoon ✨

- Hollow Knight 🪶

- Cookie Run (Ovenbreak & kingdom) ✨🪶

- Kirby

- Danganronpa (All 3 main games) 🪶

- Persona (3 & 5) ✨🪶

- Genshin Impact (note we don't know ANYTHING about this source lmao)

- Pokémon

- Super Paper Mario

- Kingdom Hearts

- Hades

- Sonic the Hedgehog

- The Legend of Zelda ✨🪶

- Octopath Traveler

- FNaF: Security Breach

- Final Fantasy XV

- Solar Ash ✨🪶

- Star Wars: The Old Republic (Considered the same source in-system as regular SW)

- Omori

- Monster Camp

- Portal

- Warhammer (considered the same source in-system as ITEHTTS)

- Dungeons & Dragons

- Rain World 🪶

- Undertale/Deltarune (Considered nearly the same source in-system) 🪶

- Catherine: Full Body

- Slay the Princess ✨

- Cult of the Lamb

📺 TV, movies, animations, etc sources 📽️

- Nine Sols 🪶

- Ace Attorney 🪶

[TV, movies, animations, etc sources]

- Red vs Blue

- Bungou Stray Dogs 🪶

- Inanimate Insanity

- South Park (we see a kid gettin treated badly and they get adopted. simple)

- Sk8 the Infinity

- Kanata no Astra (Astra: Lost in Space)

- Assassination Classroom

- Mai HiME

- The Promised Neverland (Season 1) (the rest in: books, comics, etc)

- Lucifer

- Steven Universe ✨🪶

- Our Flag Means Death

- The Good Place

- Moon Knight (series)

- Star Wars ✨

- Bee & Puppycat

- Kyou Kara Maou!

- Kung Fu Panda

- O.K. K.O.! Let's Be Heroes

- The Owl House

- Beyblade

- Inuyasha

- Puss in Boots

- If the Emperor had Text-To-Speech (ITEHTTS) (Considered the same source in-system as Warhammer)

- Lackadaisy (have yet to read the comics)

- Helluva Boss & Hazbin Hotel (Considered the same source in-system)

- Lego Monkie Kid (Sometimes seen as intertwined with Journey to the West source)

- Adventure Time / Fionna & Cake (Considered the same source in-system) 🪶

- The Amazing Digital Circus

- ENA

- Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

- Ben 10 (Gwen 10 AU)

- Gundam: The Witch From Mercury

- Parkour Civilization

- Simulation verse (Evbo)

📻 Podcast, songs, & theatre sources 🎤

- The Wild Robot

- Megan (Movie series)

[Podcast, songs, & theatre sources]

- Rabbits (podcast) 🪶

- REPO! The Genetic Opera

- Addict by Silva Hound

🌘 Mythological sources 📜

- Collared by Lily Vane

- The Post-Traumatic Manifesto by Weevildoing ✨🪶

[Mythological sources]

- Journey to the West & related media

- Hellenic mythology 🪶

- Chaos Magick collective deities 🪶

📚 Books, comics, etc sources 🔖

[Books, comics, etc sources]

- Warriors ✨

- The Promised Neverland (Season 1 also in: TV, movies, animations, etc. The rest by this source)

- Moon Knight (comics)

🌌 Original Sources 🌊

[Original Sources]

- [fill out info later]

[captive-prince-a03-feed]

We Were Just Kids

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/Yv2B6PX by TaylorSims A world where the alcoholic Aleron effectively abandoned his two sons. A world where Auguste, Laurent were taken in by Theomedes, and grew up together with Damen under the same roof. A world where Laurent is a gifted theatre kid and Damen an athlete. This is a modern AU where Laurent, being the youngest, is fiercely protected by all around him (even Jokaste) and trauma free. This work also seeks to explore and humanise the character of Jokaste beyond her cold, calculative and somewhat materialistic surface. [original summary moved to the notes of first chapter under "background"] Words: 1123, Chapters: 1/15, Language: English Series: Part 1 of In this world it's just us Fandoms: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat Rating: Mature Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage Sex Categories: Gen Characters: Auguste (Captive Prince), Damen (Captive Prince), Laurent (Captive Prince), Jokaste (Captive Prince), Theomedes (Captive Prince), Aleron (Captive Prince), Regent (Captive Prince), Kastor (Captive Prince) Relationships: Damen/Jokaste (Captive Prince) Additional Tags: Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Found Family, Loss of Parent(s), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Child Neglect, Family Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Child on Child Non-Con, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Extremely slow burn because Damen and Laurent's romance doesn't start until the sequel, Puppy Love, Break Up, not romance focused, Implied/Referenced Death in Childbirth

[ninjadeathblade]

Moulin Rouge Discotrain AU (part twenty two)

Summary: (Post-game canon) The Conductor and DJ Grooves agree to finally work on a movie together. They come up with 'Moulin Rouge', a musical drama filled with romance. Over time the two directors grow closer and discover that maybe they don't hate each other as much.

Beginning | Previous | Next

Word count: 350

Warnings: None

Author's notes: Didn't plan on the story taking this turn but here we are!

"They're finally all asleep," Roxie sighed, leaning in the doorway of the front room.

"I could've helped," Conductor pointed out with a shrug.

Grooves glanced over at his friend, a strange fluttery feeling catching in his chest.

"I can deal with my kids. Besides-" Roxie raised a hand, a few old tapes in it. "-you wouldn't have let me bring these down if I'd let you upstairs."

"No."

"Grooves, wanna see Conductor when he was at his theatre club as a kid?" Roxie asked with a smirk.

"Well, I'll admit, I'm kinda curious," Grooves said.

Conductor shot him a quick glare before looking back at Roxie.

"Fine, put it on," Conductor conceded, lying down more on the sofa and resting his head on Grooves' chest.

"Connie, don't be embarrassed," Grooves whispered, holding onto his hand.

"I was a two-bit talent back then," Conductor said, squeezing Grooves' flipper tighter.

"Shut up Dad. They were some of your best bits of acting. Better than what you put in your movies," Roxie argued, turning round to face Grooves.

"You've got a choice of three: Hamilton, Phantom of the Opera, or something that's just got a drawing of a star. Pick your poison."

Conductor dashed across the room, snatching the third tape out of her hand and pocketing it into his dark coat.

"Where did you get that?" Conductor asked, hand shaking at his side as it clenched into a fist.

"Emily mailed it to me after Mum's death. She said to save it for when you had a friend over to share it with," Roxie explained, brow furrowed.

"Pecking Emily," Conductor swore, rushing out the room.

The front door slammed and Grooves got to his feet and watched as the owl charged back to the train outside.

"I don't even know what's on that tape. Emily gave specific instructions for Dad to see it with someone he considered a friend," Roxie murmured.

"Who's Emily?"

"One of Mum and Dad's old theatre club friends."

"I'm going to go check on him," Grooves decided.

"He probably won't be okay. Just… try to help him."

"Always."

[margridarnauds]

give me a high school au for your favorite irish mythological characters. gogogo

Let's go. (Because we're saying "high school", I'm assuming "American High School" and not the Irish secondary school system.)

(1) Lugh is That Kid who gets acceptance letters from every single Ivy League university because he's been in, like, 10 different extracurricular activities since Junior High. He is absolutely insufferable about this. He is like the unholy genderbent combination of Sharpay Evans, Regina George, and Heather Chandler and, to make it worse, he IS good at what he does. Even if a couple of rivals also had "accidents" happen to them that allowed Lugh to slip in....

Edit: It is also vital to understand that Lugh WOULD be that highschooler who is a little *too* into Death Note and believes Light Did Nothing Wrong.

(2) Bres is a theatre kid, he and Lugh regularly fight over roles (usually with Lugh winning, which is killing Bres especially since Bres is rapidly approaching graduation and Lugh is still a Junior). This has sometimes led to literal fights and detentions being handed out, which both were able to slip out of. Has the reputation for being a stuck up bitch, which is partially earned, partially because he never attends parties or bothers to socialize, even with his half-brothers. He's not STUPID but he never earns As, mainly because he doesn't want to put in the effort/might have some type of executive function issues, which his father is absolutely never going to get treated because it's easier to write him off as lazy. The only person who really seems to be able to get to him is...

(3) Sreng mac Sengainn, captain of the (American) football team a town over who has a longstanding rivalry going back generations with them. Before, Bres + Lugh's high school had an unparalleled winning streak, especially thanks to Bres' brother, Ogma, but since Sreng took over as captain, they've been getting wins here and there, enough to make them worried. (It goes without saying that Bres + Lugh are also in a very preppy, gentrified high school setting, either an outright private high school or one that might as well be thanks to zoning, while Sreng's is more egalitarian, so there's an added sense of horror at how *those people* are beating them.) He and Bres started dating when they were both Juniors, to the horror of everyone from both high schools, and they're going strong. He goes to Bres' shows, Bres goes to his games and cheers on for the other side, they considered going to each other's respective proms together but decided to blow it off and do something else.

(4) People are never sure whether Manannán dropped out or not -- he shows up about three times a year, attends class, and then usually leaves by the end of lunch break, usually with a surfboard under his hand. Several hours later, it's revealed that he pulled a massive, elaborate prank. How did he do it, when he was, by all accounts, sitting at his desk, doing math homework? Who knows. Likewise for why he hasn't been expelled yet, except for that it looks bad for the school's reputation.

(5) ....the Dagda.....would be responsible for at LEAST one teenage pregnancy. It's unfortunate, but. We know this. We *know* this.