#all my other WIPs are standing behind me aren't they?

[afterdarkprincess]

am i allowed to cry?

Pairing: Sami/Jey Rating: Explicit Word Count: 1556 without ever touching his skin, how can I be guilty as sin?

Thank you so much to @motherknuckers for letting me run with your amazing idea - I hope I did it justice!!

tag squad: @feelschicken @elementaldoughnut12 @imabillyami @jeysbvck @harmshake @southerngirl41 (if anyone else would like to be added please let me know!)

AO3 Link

Tags: Fantasies, Angst, Masturbation, References to Blowjobs and Sex, Big Guilty Thoughts (full list on AO3)

---

The ceiling lights up, announcing the arrival of a text message on Sami’s phone where it sits on the bedside table.

It’s late. How late he’s not sure, and he doesn’t even know if it’s worth reaching over to find out. Kevin snores in the other bed, both irritating and comfortingly familiar. He’s been staring at the ceiling for a while, unable to turn off the thoughts that tumble around his mind.

He’d spent the last of his time with the Bloodline conflicted and hurt, at war with who he wanted to be and who the Tribal Chief wanted him to be. In some ways putting that chair through Roman’s back had been a relief, a way for him to finally escape from the cage he’d willingly put himself in, unaware of how it would change him.

But that didn’t mean that he didn’t have regrets. The relief he felt as the chair made contact with the Tribal Chief quickly soured when he saw the expression on Jey’s face. The way his face contorted as he screamed about trust and brotherhood. Jimmy and Solo had no hesitation, dealing with a traitor the way they’ve been trained, viciously attacking.

Taking blow after blow, he hadn’t known at the time what came from who, but later on he watched the footage back. Watched as Jey refused to join the fray, rolling out of the ring and walking away. He hadn’t intervened to stop what was happening, but he also hadn’t joined in. That wasn’t nothing.

He’s still not sure where he stands with Jey Uso.

The ceiling lights up again.

Who could possibly be texting him right now?

Juicy Uce 2:27am- [https://open.spotify.com/track/799….]

Juicy Uce 2:30am- thought you’d wanna see it

It’s a link to a new release from the artist that Sami has been obsessed with for a while, something he found out he’d had in common with the Samoan once he’d finally gotten past Jey’s mistrust and hatred.

He’s transported back to that gloomy morning in a gym in a hotel off the exit just outside of the middle of nowhere, their heads together with one wired earbud between them. (Jey insists the audio quality is better, Sami can’t tell a difference but he agrees all the same.)

Sami can smell the sweet shea smell of Jey’s shampoo mixed with his sweat, the butterflies he’s fighting against in his stomach at how close he is, the way his fingers can’t help but move to the beat of the song. In the weeks they’ve been on the road together he’s discovered that Jey Uso is never still, always moving, always at 110% no matter his mood.

He’s fond of Jey. Despite all the suspicion and hatred Jey’s spewed his way, Sami’s seen glimpses of who Jey really is. The way he loves his brothers and protects them from Roman and themselves, How vibrant he can be when he’s deep into a game of Mario Kart with Jimmy and Solo, the way he laughs when the blue shell he launched crashes into Sami’s character (Luigi).

Not to mention that Jey is just insanely attractive. The whole family is really, that’s clear to anyone with eyeballs, but Sami hasn’t been able to get Jey out of his head. The crop tops he wears certainly aren’t helping.

Sami doesn’t catch what Jey says lost in thought as he is, but Jey’s laughing and he can’t help but giggle along. A rare moment of peace.

Kevin makes a sound like a dying elephant and turns in his sleep. The ceiling stares back at Sami and it feels like judgement.

His former? current? best friend has made his feelings about the situation perfectly clear. Sami’s “obsession” with Jey Uso is misguided and useless in his eyes.

If only he knew.

The daydreams he gets lost in. The downright fantasies that he’s had about a man who at most thinks of him as a brother.

Well there were those looks…

His traitorous and hopeful mind. Shame floods his thoughts. He shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t want him like this. There’s no use in indulging himself when it’s never going to happen. Just like there’s no use in catching Jey in dark corners backstage and pleading with him to see reason and leave the bloodline.

And yet…

Sami’s unfortunately never been one to take no for an answer, never knows when to quit. Sometimes it leads to him getting his ass kicked, sometimes it leads to sleepless nights dreaming about soft bronze skin, imagining what Jey’s lips would taste like.

He feels his face heating up, his dick stirring in his shorts at those briefest of thoughts. This is becoming a problem, spilling over from his idle daydreams into his interactions with Jey, getting distracted at each touch and glance Jey sends his way, only fueling this foolish desire further.

How would it feel if Jey touched him in reverence instead of anger? Holding Sami’s face in those big hands, warm and steady before pulling him in for a kiss.

His chest pangs at these images in his mind, memories of things that haven’t even happened. How is it he can see it all so clearly? He rubs at his tired eyes, like maybe it will banish the ghost of Jey’s lips against his own.

It doesn’t work.

Jey’s there, kneeling on the bed in those tight boxers he wears to bed, miles of his stomach exposed to Sami’s view. He reaches out to touch, letting his fingers graze the soft skin, drinking in the sigh that Jey lets out.

“That all you’re tryin’ to do, Uce? Killin’ me…”

Sami’s dick is fully invested, aching and leaking onto the soft fabric of his shorts. His hand dips under the waistband, teasing himself at first.

Jey crowds into his space, seating himself on Sami’s lap with a sly grin, rocking his hips to brush against the growing erection in the ginger’s shorts.

Sami can’t help but groan at the delicious pressure, wrapping his hand around his length and giving it a few good strokes.

_Above him Jey moans, tossing his head back and shaking sweat out of his hair, and Sami can’t resist licking the exposed line of his neck, and he is lost, intoxicated and drowning. His senses are overloaded, Jey is everywhere and everything, the salty-sweet-clean taste of his skin, the smell of his expensive cologne, the hypnotizing swirling lines of ink that adorn his skin. His panting breath, hot against Sami’s face, combining with whispered curses into a beautiful melody.

Their bodies connected. Jey’s pretty pink lips stretched around Sami’s cock. Running his tongue along the planes of Jey’s body, tracing each tattoo, each intricate and wonderful part of him.

The back of his head knocks against the backboard, his hand working furiously on his dick, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. He bites his lip hard, trying his best to keep quiet.

Jey stretched out on a hotel bed in soft morning light. Laughing at him over breakfast. Back arched perfectly as Jey takes him into his body, tight, warm, home. The face he makes as he falls apart-

Sami groans, the visions around him disappearing as he coats his hand in warm sticky cum.

He sighs out a long exhale as he comes down from his orgasm, uncomfortably back in reality with Kevin snoring away on the other side of the room as his cum dries against his skin.

Guilt crashes over him like waves, making his stomach turn. Why does he keep doing this to himself?

He gingerly pries himself up out of the bed, moving slowly to not make any unnecessary noise as he makes his way to the bathroom. His and Kevin’s friendship is still rocky, and waking the man up in the middle of the night moaning the name of their opponent certainly isn’t going to win him any brownie points.

Sami cleans himself up quickly and efficiently before staring into his reflection in the mirror. The cheap florescent light only exaggerates the dark bags under his eyes and the bruise near his hairline, a harsh reminder of what really happened the last time Jey Uso put his hands on him.

But the superkicks and blows don’t match up to the Jey he knows, the man who showed him his true colors, the Jey that haunts his mind in stunning detail.

His eyes sting with unshed tears. After all what right does he have to cry? At the end of the day, he’s only torturing himself with these thoughts.

What’s he going to do? Take Jey up on their unspoken vows, say fuck it to everyone and everything and run off and live happily ever after? It’s not realistic. That’s not how real life works.

Sami splashes his face with cold water, wiping away all the evidence of his sins before making his way back to bed.

He burrows under the comforter and tries to get comfy, letting his breath match the pace of Kevin’s deep snores to try and get himself to relax. It’s definitely past late at this point and he should really be asleep.

He stares up, blinking his aching and tired eyes.

After a moment, the ceiling lights up with a notification from his phone.

---

Hope you enjoyed!!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 47

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

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

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: hi again.

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

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You give up on escape. You don't want to upset Loki any more than he already is. You go back to the bed and sit against the headboard as you think. It would be a lot easier if you weren't here so why has he locked you in? 

The laptop continues to play the show you've lost track of. You wring your hands and close your eyes, skull pulsing as your nose throbs. The smell of grass and snarling grunts fill your head and you force your eyes open. You're in that room, not there…

You reach over to the cell phone on the night table and bring up Loki's conversation. 

“May I have some water?” You send the text and sigh. He said if you need anything, to ask.

You wait, not certain if he's seen the message or even if he'll answer your request.

Some minutes pass as you examine your palm, tracing the lines listlessly. You might be waiting for nothing. It feels like you've been doing that all your life.

You slump down and mindlessly stare at the laptop. You run your fingertips lightly over your bruises and the thin cuts on your arms. The movement raises goosebumps on your skin.

You might take a bath, it might calm you. Maybe that's what you need. You can't figure out what exactly that is, just warmth, just... certainty.

You sit up but stop yourself as you hear the lock click. You glance over as the door opens little by little. Loki enters, gingerly balancing a tea cup in one hand.

"I forgot," he says as he speaks quietly, "I thought perhaps you might be sleeping."

"Oh, uh, thanks," you turn your legs over the edge of the bed and fold your hands one over the other. You watch him place the cup and saucer on the night table.

"Not at all, my pleasure," he assures, taking a pointed step back as he faces you. "Are you hungry? Or perhaps you require another blanket--"

"Why did you lock the door?"

He blinks and raises his chin. For once, he doesn't have an answer ready. He looks at the door then back to you.

"To keep you safe," he replies as if it's obvious.

"I am... aren't I? It's just us--"

"It is only an extra measure. Last night..." he trails off, his green eyes flitting back and forth, "we needn't talk of it but we know now we can never be too safe."

You frown, "but... but you don't need to lock me in--"

"I must," he insists and throws his hands up, marching away, "if you only require tea, then I must return to my work."

"Loki," you stand, "I want..." you hesitate, "I want you to lay down. You don't need to work. You need to rest."

"Me?" He presses his hand to his chest, "I'm quite well, thank you."

You shake your head, "I don't think--"

"I will be back again to check on you," he dismisses as he spins away, "enjoy the tea."

Before you can argue further, he's gone. The door snaps shut behind him and you rush forward. The lock loudly grinds into place and you wiggle the handle.

"Loki," you slap the door, "please..."

You hear his footsteps on the other side, walking away from your pleas. You huff and let your forehead rest against the wood. What is wrong with him?

✨

After a long but unsoothing soak in the tub, you return to bed. You put on a movie, and lay on your side as you curl up. You don't know what else to with yourself. You don't have the energy to bang or holler at the door.

The windows darken and cast a haze over you, adding to the darkness creeping through the silent house. You wish it would just be over. That he'd stop feeling sorry for you and just send you off. The only reason he hasn't is because you look like a beat cat. You saw yourself in the mirror, you are pathetic.

You roll onto your back and stare at the ceiling. The lock once more ticks. You lift your head as Loki enters. This time, with a tray. He places it on the dresser then comes to take your empty cup.

"Dinner, pet," he announces.

You sit up, leaning on the heels of your hands, "have you eaten?"

"Don't worry for me," he chimes in a shallow tone, "you must eat."

You push yourself straight and cross your arms, "will you eat with me?"

"I'm not hungry," he clinks the cup on the saucer.

"You should eat anyway--"

"I have," he interjects so quickly he must be lying.

"Loki," you stand and once more he's on the retreat.

"Please," you step closer and he evades you. "Why are you doing this? What did I do?"

He stops, just by the door. He clutches the cup tightly.

"You did nothing," he says, "and I should've done more."

He turns without another word, before you can think of any response, and leaves you to ponder his cryptic statement. You sigh and listen for the lock. Click. You look over at the tray of food.

There's enough for two there. More than. If he'd just come back, you'd share it with him and you could talk. 

If you weren't so afraid of talking, maybe life wouldn't be like this. If you'd been braver with your dad, asked him why he didn't love you, asked him what you could've done to make him. You think you're done being quiet.

Your stomach growls loudly as the scent of the pasta tugs at your nose. You near the dress and consider the heaping plate. It was nice of him but he shouldn't have to keep you like a mouse in a cage.

✨

Loki returns to gather your unfinished dinner. He doesn't linger, once more abandoning you to silence. You lay in bed, alone. He doesn't return.

The morning arrives and you get up to look out the window. You take in the greenery below, longing to sit among it. You open the pane as far as it will go and let in the scent of pollen and dew. The song of birds only has you distraught. You’ve never felt more desolate.

You shut the window and go back to bed. You’re exhausted. You can’t worry anymore. Not about him or even you. The dread is eating you up. You can’t fight the inevitable. So you’ll just let it happen. You give up.

You cocoon yourself in the blankets and close your eyes. You drift into a vague sleep. You hear the door and Loki’s voice but pretend to be asleep. You don’t want to talk to him when you won’t get much of a response. He can just get it over with already or leave you alone.

You slip back into unconsciousness. When you wake again, there’s a cup of cold tea and porridge waiting for you. You eat the gummy oats in stale milk and sip the tea. You roll back into the thick duvet and cling to the only escape you have; sleep.

The day passes in that pattern. You wake to nothing at all or a glass of water, a clementine, a turkey sandwich… The only marker of time is the hue leaking in through the window. The night welcomes you kindly into darkness and you sleep deeper than before. 

Another morning. Your head aches. You can’t sleep anymore. You can’t keep hiding in the blackness.

You moan and watch the sunlight on the ceiling. Loki lets himself in, the click of the lock announcing his arrival. He puts a cup of tea on the nightstand.

“Good morning,” he greets.

You don’t answer. He stands straight and peers down at you as you ignore his gaze. He hovers.

“Would you like me to draw you a bath?” He asks.

You blink and stay silent. You refuse to move.

“Pet…” he says tentatively.

You roll your back to him, “leave me alone.”

You hear him inhale but he keeps from his retort. He hums and clucks. His footsteps trail away from you, the door shutting gently right before the lock slides into the slot. If he’s going to lock you up, you’ll do the same. You’ll lock it all inside.

You don’t touch the tea. You get up to sit by the window and watch the cardinal soar in red smears in and out of the trees. Blue jays hop along branches and grackles peck at the grass. You cup your chin and lean on the window ledge as you imagine yourself out there.

The sun reaches its peak but Loki doesn’t show. Good. At least you understand each other. Your stomach growls but you ignore it. You go into the bathroom and draw another bath. You bask in the heat and emerge, less than refreshed as the grimness remains.

You knot a towel above your chest and stand at the mirror to change the bandages on your nose. The doctor told you how before he set his attention on Loki. You do your best to remember what he said. You finish, nose thrumming.

You go into the bedroom and stop short. Loki’s there at the foot of the bed. He looks at you as you enter. There’s some stubble around his jaw and his hair is uncombed.

“You are upset,” he says.

You shrug and cross your arms.

“You should be, I failed you,” he begins, “my brother…”

“Not that,” you say. “Loki, let me out.”

He leans back on his heel and peers over at the door. He returns his gaze to you, eyes narrowing. His jaw clenches and his throat tightens.

“Why?” He asks, “you’re safe here.”

You heave, “I’m tired. You need to let me go. You don’t want me and I don’t want this. I don’t want to be stuck inside forever. I don’t want to be a burden anymore…”

“You can’t go,” he shakes his head, “why… you think I don’t want you?”

You sniff and gulp tightly, “I’ll be okay. I’m feeling better and you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“I want you,” he says.

“No you don’t. You barely look at me. You leave me here all alone. You won’t sleep beside me, you won’t let me touch you. That’s what we agreed to, or maybe I misunderstood.”

He lowers his chin and sucks in his cheeks. He shifts on his feet and flutters his fingers at his side. He’s silent as you wait for his final word. Go, get out, leave.

“Loki!” You scare yourself as your voice rises, “you have to talk to me. You can’t do this. You can’t keep me here and just ignore me. You can’t… keep me in this prison.”

“Pet…” he murmurs, “I have to… I have to…”

“I can’t– I can’t do this. If you won’t tell me to go, then I’ll just go,” you warble, shaking, “I’m old enough to take care of myself.”

You go to the dresser and hastily grab clothes. You look at them, all you need is a top and a bottom, you must have some shoes on the mat. You storm towards the door but he catches your arm and spins you back, inserting himself in your path.

“Loki,” you clutch the clothing to your chest as you rip away from him. You back up, facing him as he blocks the door. “It’s okay, you don’t have to do this.”

He startles you as suddenly he’s charging at you. You stumble back, dropping the clothing as you backpedal away from him. Your heart lodges in your throat as flames lick in his irises. You hit the door frame as he corners you by the wall. 

His hands come up to frame your face and he leans in to kiss you. You squeak as his nose brushes your painfully and he grips you tightly, urging his tongue between your lips. You touch his arm, squeezing it as he devours you.

His urgency is terrifying. His arm loops around you as he presses himself against you, crushing you to the wall. He enshrines you and you hit the dresser as he throws you off balance. He staggers with you as you bounce off the wood. He keeps you against him, clinging to your lips as he moves blindly around the room.

You hit the footboard then the bedpost, grunting into his mouth as breathes you in. He stops you at the side of the bed and lifts you off your feet, breaking away to toss you onto the bed. You cry out as he crawls onto you, penning you in as he holds himself above you. He pants down at you as you writhe and whine.

“Loki…” you gasp.

“I want you,” he repeats, “I want you. You are mine,” he lowers himself to kiss your lips again, “all mine,” he pecks your cheek, “you belong to me.” His lips make a path along your jaw and down your neck.

You squirm as he covers you in kiss, tickling down your neck and across your shoulders. The towel slackens and falls open as he pins you down, your knees splayed around his. His fingertips brush along your skin as he dotes on every inch. Just along your chest as he follows the curve of it.

You look down at his dark hair, hanging in a disarray of coil. You clutch the blankets beneath you and murmur. He stops and flips back his locks, looking at you. His gaze gleams with desperation. His hand frames one side of your chest and his eyes cling to yours as he slowly leans down to kiss the swell of your breast.

“I will show you how I want you,” he rasps.

[mrsshabana]

Aaah there are so many I want to see but for now could you show Mafia!Demon!Gyutaro?

I'm so glad you picked this one because it is one of my favorites too! This fic takes place in the AAO au. But if Gyutaro didn't go to college and joined the mafia with the other moons instead.

If you aren't familiar with my Against All Odds au, basically demons live among humans similarly to Tokyo Ghoul. But they don't have to eat humans, they can survive by eating any raw meat. Though some of them will still eat humans anyways.

Content: 18+ MDNI, Gyutaro x female!reader, violence, kidnapping, sexual themes

✧:･ﾟ→ My WIP's

𝑴𝒂𝒇𝒊𝒂!𝑫𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏!𝑮𝒚𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒐 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

The world of demons was foreign to you, but in the blink of an eye you were thrusted into this life and demons became all you knew.

The only other humans you ever interacted with were the other girls. Girls who were in the same unfortunate position as you.

You were no one special before. Just working your way through life like the rest of us. And that’s how he found you. You were the perfect candidate really. Young, attractive, and weak. He was sure you’d be profitable. Abducting you in the cover of nightfall as you walked home from work after a graveyard shift.

Your abductor, the demon with the two-toned hair, took you to the black market. Selling you to an illegal exotic dancing club. A place where humans are kept captive for the enjoyment of demons. Forced to wear lingerie and dance behind nichirin bars.

This became your new normal.

You hated everyone here. The other girls gave you a hard time because you were new, and the owner of the club didn’t help. She’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, with stark white hair, two-toned just like the demon that had abducted you.

For some reason, that demon often came into your thoughts. As you sit in the back room, preparing yourself for your upcoming scheduled dance, you think back to him. His appearance was terrifying, but something about him intrigued you. You’ve been an exotic dancer for only a week, and you haven’t seen him since that first day. 

Too distracted by your lingering thoughts, you barely notice the other girls shuffling out of the room. You’ve been surviving by following what the other girls do, the girls that have been here for years. And an uncanny feeling begins to form in your gut. One that tells you that you should follow them. So you hastily finish your hair and makeup, slide on your heels, and make your way towards the door. 

And that is when you bump into him.

In your panicked state, you open the door too quickly without realizing what’s on the other side. Walking into the man’s chest, with a huff you slip on your heels. Falling right on your ass, at the feet of the only demon you recognize in this place.

Glowing eyes stare down at you with a frown. His lips downturned in an annoyed scowl. Looking down at you as if you are his prey, his frown changes into a toothy smirk, showing off his sharp teeth. 

Every nerve under your skin burns, every muscle in your body aches with the desire to run. But you find yourself frozen at his feet. Staring up at him like a helpless puppy.

“I-it’s you…” you whimper as he quirks a brow at your acknowledgment. Crouching in front of you and reaching forward to grip your cheeks with the rough pads of his fingertips. He hums as his grin widens, turning your face side to side, inspecting you.

“Oh so you remember me? How sweet,” he coos.

Quickly getting bored, he rolls his eyes and stands, “Get up,” he orders.

“R-right,” you stutter, struggling to get back on your feet. Once you are able to stand properly you bow and apologize, “I’m so sorry for my clumsiness, please forgive me sir. I-it won’t happen next time.”

He takes a step forward and brings his hand below your chin, forcing you to look up at him. He’s pleased by how you speak to him, it’s so different from how the other girls react to him.

“So eager to please, I’m glad I found you,” he chuckles before releasing you from his grasp, “and no need to be so formal, just call me Gyutaro from now on.”

You nod and he pushes you aside, “Now scram.”

After that day, you learned who Gyutaro was and why he frequented this place. This club is owned by the Kizuki, otherwise known as the most dangerous demon mafia in the world. And Gyutaro is one of their top members, along with his sister, Daki, who so happens to be the manager here.

Gyutaro comes once a week to collect the money that the dancers have generated, and once a month he’ll bring new girls if there is a need for more dancers.

Every time you’d see him, you’d politely greet him. A part of you hates him for bringing you here, but you begin looking forward to his weekly visits, even though he rarely acknowledges you.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

You’ve been here for a few months now. Things have gotten alarmingly mundane. Your previous life becomes a distant memory as you’ve even forgotten what the warmth of the sun feels like on your skin…

Putting on your lingerie, slipping into a pair of stockings and heels before you exit your quarters. 

Daki waits for you in the backroom with a group of other girls. Something must be going on. Daki never bothers to interact with the dancers much unless she’s scolding them.

“Girls, listen up,” Daki yells in an aggravated tone, “we have some special guests tonight so be on your best behavior!”

She then begins pointing to girls out of the group, instructing them to come to her, “and… you,” she points to you, “the rest of you are off for the night.”

She picked a dozen of you from the group, “Ok girls, you’ll be having some very special customers tonight,” she smirks, “Come with me.”

You all follow her out onto the dancing stage, where nichirin bars separate you from a group of men sitting in front of the stage.

She instructs you to stand in a line. And your heart sinks at what she does next.

Pressing a button behind the stage, the bars begin to lower until there is nothing separating you from the men that sit in front of you.

And what do you know… there he is. Gyutaro sits nonchalantly with his legs spread wide, a lazy smirk on his face. He’s wearing his usual attire, ripped black jeans, black leather boots, and a black button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His birthmarks and various tattoos are visible on his exposed skin. 

The other men you don’t recognize.

Daki turns on the music and shouts, “If you're chosen, give him a lap dance. If not chosen, you're free to go back to your quarters for the night.” 

What the fuck is happening right now. As far as you know, this doesn’t happen. They never allow girls to get in such close proximity to customers for safety reasons. Having half naked women flaunted in front of blood thirsty demons is a recipe for disaster, which is why the nichirin bars have always stayed between the stage and the customers. The only time a girl is allowed to give personal dances is if the guests pay a hefty price… and even then the dancer usually never comes back.

They begin going down the line, each man pointing to a woman of his choice. And for some reason, you’re relieved when Gyutaro points to you. Feeling a heavy weight lifted from your shoulders. 

This doesn’t go unnoticed. Gyutaro’s smirk is wiped off his face when you flash him the tiniest smile as you make your way to him. You shouldn’t be happy about this. He knows you know who he is and his status within the mafia, so why are you so eager to see him?

After each man has made his selection, Daki takes the remaining girls backstage. Leaving you vulnerable at the hands of the Kizuki…

Dim lights flicker as you stand between his legs. Gyutaro’s gaze trails down your body, pupils hesitating when he reaches your breasts, and stopping when his gaze reaches your thighs.

This is quite awkward for you. Yeah, you’re used to dancing for guests but Gyutaro has never been one of your guests. He’s always just been the guy that comes to collect the money, you never viewed him as a customer. But orders are orders and in this place you know you have no choice. So you begin to dance for him.

“Stop,” Gyutaro says sternly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you forward, “Sit…”

You nod and do as you're told, taking a seat on his lap, straddling him. He rests his left hand on your thigh, and brings his other hand up to your face. Moving a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Why so eager to see me?” words drawn out, his hooded lids stare at you with a lazy expression.

“I-I was just glad that you picked me…” you blush, feeling your body heat up.

He hums, holding your hips down as he rolls his hips upwards. A hard bulge can be felt through his jeans, rubbing directly on the wet spot shamefully forming in your panties.

“I can’t imagine why,” he growls.

You lean forward to hold onto his shoulders for support, “You-you’re the only one I recognized…”

Gyutaro can see right through you as you spit out a half truth. Trying to convince yourself that that is the only reason that you were happy to see him. That you haven’t formed some sick attraction towards him. 

“Well, I was happy to see you too,” he smirks, caressing your cheek, “so pretty, so obedient, so eager to please… so sweet to me every time I come by each week.”

His praises make the tightness in your chest worsen, you feel like you can’t breathe. Your whole body feels hot as he leans forward to kiss your neck. Nipping at your collarbone with his teeth. Your small acts of kindness and simple decency towards him have caused him to grow a liking to you. Forming foreign feelings towards something that he only viewed as food before.

Tilting your head to the side to give him better access to your neck, you look beside you. The sight makes your blood run cold.

The man beside you, a demon with platinum blonde hair and rainbow eyes, is busy ripping out the trachea of one of the dancers. Blood covers his mouth, pooling beneath him on the floor. Looking further down the line you see similar acts. 

You seem to be the only girl left alive.

Gyutaro instantly senses your panic. Feeling your pulse increase drastically under his lips as he kisses your neck. You begin to squirm in his grasp, but he keeps you seated with a firm grip. Your breathing becomes choppy and panicked, whining as tears blur your vision.

“Hey hey hey, you’re ok,” he coos and wraps his arms around your waist to pull you close, “I’m here with you, doll.” 

“P-please…” you whimper pathetically.

“Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?” Gyutaro grabs your face, forcing you to look at him, “You trust me don’t you?”

Through hiccups and sobs you respond weakly with a nod, “Y-yes.”

“Good girl,” he groans, “It’s just me and you right now… don’t worry about anything else.”

[thepythakorean]

parallels between the boy and the heron and this painting, plus general analysis

Arnold Bocklin, Island of the Dead. 1880

i want to preface this by saying i am by no means an art history nerd, i just happen to know some stuff about the background of this painting in particular.

as soon as mahito is sucked into the tower floor he is standing at the shore of an island surrounded by an endless ocean. he is dwarfed by a large set of golden gates that say something like "those who seek my knowledge shall perish" and an even taller forest of cypress trees. these features all frame a white dolmen (primitive tomb usually made of giant rocks stacked like below) that beckons to him.

this scene immediately struck me since it has so many of the visual elements of the painting. mahito is even framed in the foreground to be so very small approaching these giant, daunting structures just like the boat heading for the island in the painting. besides the tombs, the cypress trees are also traditionally associated with mourning and death at least in europe/the mediterranean. other ghibli movies have lavish european aesthetics tied to characters (howl, yubaba, etc.) but it feels particularly intimate here given that mahito's great granduncle, the creator and ruler of this world, is apparently european and can only pass on his role to a direct descendant. (btw not saying the gaudy european decor signature of howl and yubaba aren't important to their characterization, it def is! i'm just saying it stood out to me in this movie especially.) the cliffs full of stone entrance passageways are prominent later in the movie as himi takes mahito through the parakeet's domain, and interestingly, in the delivery room where natsuko is, there is another dolmen behind her (can't find pics since the movie hasn't been uploaded yet urgh).

the backstory to the painting continues to parallel to the events of the story! so there's 5 versions of this painting. the first three versions were painted in a cemetery close to bocklin's residence which was also full of white headstones and sculptures, and cypress trees. one of his infant children, one of many children he lost, was buried there. the one i posted above is the first/second-- while bocklin was working on the first, a the soon-to-be wife of a politician visited his studio, saw the wip, and commissioned her own version with the added white figure and coffin to commemorate her first husband who had just died of diphtheria. already somewhat similar to how mahito's mother died in the hospital fire (well. she died from the fire but presumably she was there because she was sick) and when his father shortly remarried. these were also added to the initial wip and stuck in later versions of the painting. bocklin later wrote to her, "you will be able to dream yourself into the world of dark shadows". the movie is also very dreamlike-- it's a fantasy world filled with strange creatures, alternate versions of people he knows, and passages that seem to alter the fabric of time and space. people also seem to forget about it as soon as they leave even after spending long periods of time in it like a dream. the painting is also very dreamlike, but why? the warm lighting, maybe not in the version i posted but in a couple others, may explain it, but the island itself resembles the curtains and stage of a theater (referencing the audio clip below the description). even if it doesn't look EXACTLY like that to you, it's definitely a too-perfect little scene in a nebulous expanse of space. this theatrical quality is also shown in the movie by the parakeet uprising side plot as well as the scene when himi and mahito collapse in front of the delivery room-- the curtain falls directly in front of the viewer over them as though a stageplay just ended. oh and a friend mentioned to me how this is a classic hero's journey plot and mirrors orpheus in the underworld. island of the dead has also directly inspired NUMEROUS other works of art, including other paintings, stage productions, and symphonic poems. apparently the painting was so popular many people in berlin hung prints of it in their homes (i do too)! as i stated above though, a lot of the visual elements in the painting were already traditional symbols relating to death so i don't want to 100% conclude that miyazaki was directly inspired by this painting, he may have just also resonated with those symbols independent of bocklin which i still think is awesome.

the first time we see himi also reminded me of the painting. she's wearing a white dress and standing at the bow of a small wooden boat, and though her intentions are to save the warawara from the pelicans, she inevitably kills some of them too. visually and thematically she's like the white figure at the front of the rowboat in the painting. she acts as a guide for mahito (analogous to the rower? he traveled to this world of his own volition but needed a guide) for a good part of the movie and is a collage of life and death. she is a younger but kind of omniscient version of his dead mother; she's known all along she is mahito's mother but is about to be born into the world by the end of the movie and accepts her fate happily. she can control fire which envelops her like how she died in the real world, but is harmless to the touch unless she directs it as a weapon, and as we see with the warawara and pelicans it helps creation but also destroys much like fire's role in the natural world. natsuko, though a separate person from himi, is still connected as a sibling, and we see her wandering into the forest at the beginning of the movie while wearing white like himi, back turned to mahito, and that is what prompts him to first enter the tower. the strange nature of her character that doesn't adhere to a proper time or space parallels the way the white figure completely stands out in the painting, at least the ones with darker lighting. another crazy parallel surrounding fire and wwii between the painting and the movie is that the fourth version of this painting was destroyed during wwii due to bombing, again like how mahito's mother's hospital was presumably set on fire by bombing during the war.

the looming effects of war alluded to throughout the movie eventually tie into its resolution, when mahito accepts his new family that he initially rejected, his own imperfect being, and the fact that one must seek out love to be happy in this bitch of a world. his great granduncle is confused as to why mahito wouldn't want to recreate his own world like him. why would you want to return to the world that killed your mother and rejects you as a person? the world that forces your people to die in war and will eventually drop the deadliest weapon mankind has ever seen even a century from now onto your home? you can make everything perfect here! he's created something of a "paradise" himself, full of lush tropical plants, parakeets, and strange insects (some of them looked like the bugs from nausicaa, another fantastical world of lush nature which is also threatened by war. interesting), almost like a garden of eden, and it so happens to be at the very top of the tower. funnily enough, bocklin also painted this several years later:

Arnold Bocklin, Island of Life. 1888

i don't know much about this one so idk if it's an explicit companion piece to the island of the dead but it certainly looks like it. the similarities are now less apparent to the movie if there are any, it's much less lush but there are exotic plants and uh birds and stuff. this is definitely more likely a case of shared inspiration from the symbols themselves rather than movie directly looking at the painting. anyway clearly the promise of a perfect paradise isn't real, as this is interrupted by a war of his own unwitting creation, the uprising of the parakeets he wanted to breed in a paradise that literally bring about the end of the world. no world will ever be perfect when left long enough to its own devices. life finds a way! plus, this world was created through so much death (the construction workers in hazardous conditions, the way the tower keeps spiriting people away. btw in the english sub mahito's dad calls the whole ordeal a "disappearance" but he says "kamikakushi" in japanese which means "hidden by god" in reference to people who mysteriously disappeared as if from supernatural circumstances and yes that's the word they used in the japanese title of spirited away!!!) and is on the verge of collapsing from reality every three days just because of some building blocks?? the real world may be on fire but it'll go out/burn less badly someday, and at least it won't completely disappear in a snap, not in an easily imagined timescale for a human anyway. it's up to you to make the best of it, and this is what mahito decides. there are also visual allusions to other ghibli movies about the constantly present threat or consequences of war. the only other landmark aside from the island mahito lands on is a line of ships which kiriko later tells him are all fake. it immediately reminded me of the stream of planes in porco rosso which were the souls of dead fighter pilots moving on. the shadow people in the swamp were also reminiscent of those in the train in spirited away, which are never explained to my knowledge but the given that spirited away's characters are largely spirits and the way souls are so similarly designed in this movie makes me feel that they were also souls of people in spirited away.

through this imagined otherworld, there is also the blurring of lines between life and death, reality and imagination. himi plus her dyad with natsuko (they're sisters AND they look exactly the same AND both are mother figures to mahito) are great examples of this. mahito's mother is gone, he knew this and set foot into the world anyway. he rejected natsuko as his new mother but in going through the struggles of the tower he comes to accept familial love for her and even keeps confusing "natsuko" and "mom" while reaching out to her in the delivery room. a family is made up of different people but inevitably you will see each other in each person. in the delivery room scene we see the paper hanging from the ceiling lash out to attack and stick to mahito like tape, it even leaves red marks on him. this is one of the best scenes in the movie to me because of its visual contrast to him rushing to save his mother in the fire. in the fire scene, the real world around him is blurred and distorted and at times so is mahito and especially his mother. the fire doesn't seem to burn him or his clothes (i could be remembering that wrong tho) and the scene cuts off before it shows him possibly going in further. in the delivery room, everything is drawn with clean lineart, no stylization. there is no mistaking the reality of this situation even though this world is conjured, the dawning realization upon mahito that this person is his mother is so visceral that he actively fights through the paper literally snapping its jaws and natsuko spitting her hatred towards him. when mahito is ready to leave the tower, himi leaves through a separate door to be born as his mother sometime in the past though she is not a warawara and knows what has happened/will happen, an exception that further demonstrates the nonlinear nature of time and space in the movie.

after coming out of the tower, the heron tells mahito he should forget everything that happened in there. even his grandmother seemed to have forgotten the whole year she spent in there (it seems like tower time reflects irl time judging by the events of the movie). anything that comes out doesn't just disappear, it transforms into a real-life counterpart as we saw with the pelicans leaving as they were (presumably minus the ability to speak) and the parakeets going from big bloodthirsty things to regular parakeets. so mahito can't just forget, especially because he comes out changed from his experiences in there, not just himself personally but also his changed relationships with natsuko and the heron, and also his little souvenirs. then the movie abruptly ends with mahito narrating that they left for tokyo again shortly after the war ended. i like to think that this was a hopeful ending where mahito maintained that character development and was able to welcome natsuko and his new sibling into his family while being able to seek more friends and family in the future. i've seen other analyses talking about how this movie was semi-autobiographical for miyazaki and i can see it, how events early in his life shaped his personality and how he had to fight to find beauty in a world that otherwise treated him poorly, so i'm glad he ended the movie on that note, although in less words. pretty similar to how spirited away ended, although there was arguably more loss involved, but still hopeful, and that's what i find so powerful about this movie. and like this movie, spirited away involves a dyad between yubaba and zeniba as a device for the hardships and beauty of life, how they're not so discreet at times. as a last kindasorta tie-in to bocklin's work, i'll point again to the island of life which was created after the island of the dead, plus a composition directly inspired by the island of the dead, a symphonic poem with the same title written by sergei rachmaninoff. the last time i listened to this was in high school and it's like. 20 minutes long so i'm too impatient to give it a relisten now but from my vague recollection plus some quick searches it's a very somber piece that escalates into emotional climaxes yet still contains warmer tones, and goes back to the same "rowing" motif at the end. it weaves together evocations of life and death in one piece, also illustrating how the two really are so closely connected.

tl;dr, this was me the entire movie because miyazaki SEEMS to be heavily inspired by this one symbolist painting i happen to like a lot:

also also here's a self portrait of bocklin:

yes, all of his paintings are that cool.

[archonfurina]

★⋆. ࿐࿔ ᴡɪᴘ ᴡʜᴇɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ★⋆. ࿐࿔

I was thinking about which wip I wanted to post for this, because I have so many of them... Most are for a game I'm no longer playing though (Obey Me) and they'll most likely not be finished.. The following wip is unnamed and possibly never to be published in full because it's so self-indulgent.

Under the cut: LADS Rafayel/gn!MC, 1.3k words, wip, continuation to his Veiled Whispers card

Warnings: Kissing, NSFW, "Master" / "Good boy". Note: they drank alchohol earlier but aren't drunk.

“Then you should say… you enjoy my company. And that I can make you happy.”

MC thinks about it for a second. Rafayel looks oddly vulnerable at this moment, like he’s expecting a joke or deflection. He must see something in MC’s gaze, because suddenly he smiles and gestures at the ribbon.

“Tie up my hands again. Tighter this time.”

MC hesitates but nods. They move closer, noticing the faint scent of Rafayel's cologne. MC takes the ribbon from him, and moves behind Rafayel to tie his hands behind his back. Despite tying it a little bit tighter, they’re sure he could escape again if he wanted to.

“It's done.” MC says and takes a step back. They feel a little bit dizzy standing so close to him like this. Rafayel pulls at his bindings experimentally. 

“Good job. It’s very.. firm.” he says, then turns around and looks at MC. “So… how do you want me?” 

MC feels a thrill inside at the question, and they lift a finger to push at Rafayel’s chest. At the slightest touch, he moves backwards until he meets the couch. MC pushes his chest a bit more, but he doesn’t sit down. MC looks up at him, and their eyes meet.

Rafayel has a teasing smile on his face, but he immediately takes on an innocent expression. 

“Tell me what to do, Master.” Rafayel says, and looks at them expectantly. MC shivers. He’s used that name for them before, but it feels even more intimate this time. They notice their hands are shaking. MC quietly takes a deep breath, then answers. “Sit.” 

Rafayel obeys quickly, and looks up at MC with wide, beautiful eyes. They study each other in silence for a bit, until MC can’t wait anymore. They sit down in Rafayel’s lap, straddling him and holding onto his shoulders for balance. Rafayel gasps a little, and their chests almost touch, faces are so close to each other. 

“Master” he breathes. MC really likes to be called that. He must have noticed. “What do you want me to do?” he asks. Feeling a little braver, MC slowly slides their hands to Rafayel’s chest and plays with his tie. They inspect the little mole peeking out from under his collar. “I want you to kiss me.” 

“Anything you want, Master.” Rafayel says. “Look at me, please.” 

MC raises their gaze from his chest and looks at him in the eyes again. He looks a little drunk, and there’s a blush covering his cheeks and ears. They’ve never kissed before. 

Slowly, oh so slowly, they both lean in, and their lips touch. He feels warm and soft, and tastes slightly of the wine they drank earlier. MC lets out a little moan. Rafayel presses himself into the kiss, and it quickly turns deeper, more passionate. His tongue enters their mouth and it feels so intoxicating, MC’s head spins. They slide their hands around his neck and into his hair, and Rafayel lets out a sound at that, so MC tugs his hair gently to hear it again. 

“Ah-” Rafayel says between kisses. “You taste so sweet… I want more.” He sounds so desperate and wanting that MC has to use all their willpower to not devour him right then and there. MC pulls back and Rafayel chases their lips, then lets out a whine when he can’t reach them anymore. 

“Sorry” he says. “I was too greedy. I will take whatever Master gives me.” he’s still looking at their mouth, and licks his lips unconsciously.

“G-good boy.” MC says, and feels their face becoming warm. 

“Oh? Am I a good boy?” Rafayel smiles mischievously. “Will I get a reward?”

“Maybe.. um.. lean back.” MC says and pushes at his chest again impatiently. Rafayel leans back against the cushions and MC gets to work right away. 

They’ve been thinking about this ever since Rafayel loosened his tie and opened the top buttons of his shirt earlier that night. MC leans forward and plants kisses on his throat.. his neck.. his jaw.. his collarbone.. that distracting little mole. Everywhere they can reach. Rafayel sighs in pleasure and angles his head a little to give MC better access.

As they keep kissing, their hands work clumsily undoing the rest of the buttons on Rafayel’s shirt. He’s still tied up, so they can’t pull his shirt off. But opening it and revealing his chest is enough for now. 

Suddenly MC thinks of something. They want to mark him so badly, to give both of them a private reminder of tonight. They pick a spot that’s usually hidden beneath his shirt, and start sucking a red hickey on his skin. It makes Rafayel moan and tug at his bindings, so they do it again. Now there’s two blooming red marks on his flawless pale skin, signifying who he belongs to. Rafayel is panting slightly. He looks utterly wrecked, sitting there with his shirt open and tie loosely hanging from his neck, messy hair and red lips and cheeks and ears.

“Rafayel.. Is this okay?” MC asks him.

“Huh? Oh.. Yes, yes yes.” Rafayel says, sounding a bit dazed. MC is close enough to feel that he’s starting to get excited, and MC wants to grind their hips against him, but restrains themself. They are on a mission, and doing that would be skipping some important steps.

“Good” MC murmurs and leans down to kiss him on the lips again. They want to spend hours, days just kissing and tasting him and hearing the little moans and whimpers he makes. It’s making them feel bolder than before. “Rafayel, you’re such a-” kiss “good-” kiss “-boy”.

“Thank you, Master” Rafayel says breathlessly and lets out a sweet sound when MC bites and tugs at his lower lip. At that, MC puts their hands on his waist and slides down a little so they can access his now bare chest. This all may feel very good for him, but in truth, it’s for satisfying MC’s curiosity and their pleasure.

MC plants kisses from his jaw to his chest, licking and sucking at his skin. He tastes salty, but not so much that it’s unpleasant. MC focuses their attention on his nipples, teasing the other with their tongue and rolling and pinching the other with their fingers. Rafayel’s hips jerk up and he swears quietly, then immediately apologizes. MC takes it as a very good sign and continues, switching from one side to the other.

Rafayel is very vocal, and he reacts to everything MC does. Little moans and gasps fill the air, and nearly make MC lose their mind. Their hands touch and caress Rafayel everywhere, from his sides, up his chest and down to his stomach, which makes him tense and his voice hitch. Their lips then follow the path their hands made, faster this time. MC is growing impatient again, and cannot wait to taste him more.

They slide down on their knees in front of him, and stroke his thighs. They touch his belt buckle, but thinking they might be moving too fast, they look up at him for consent. Rafayel is looking down at them, panting with his mouth slightly open, and nods slightly. MC opens his belt, undoes the button on his pants, and pulls down the zipper. His pants are already so tight, it takes a bit of work to get the zipper past his bulge. MC wastes no time and presses their palm against his length and strokes him through his boxers. Rafayel groans quietly at the relief.

“Ah- MC.. Master.. P-please..” Rafayel moans so beautifully, and MC has barely touched them yet. MC makes a move to pull down his pants, and taps Rafayel’s thigh. He seems to understand the gesture and lifts his hips so that MC can pull both his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock. MC thinks it’s the most beautiful cock they’ve ever seen. They might’ve said it out loud, because Rafayel shudders and twitches a little. MC takes him in their hands and presses a kiss to the tip, where there is already some precum gathering. It doesn’t taste bad at all, and MC licks the rest of it from the tip of his cock. Rafayel whimpers...

[aceghosts]

WIP WEDNESDAY

It's Wednesday, my dudes, and I have snippets to share. I was tagged by @direwombat, @cassietrn, @clicheantagonist, @nightbloodbix, @inafieldofdaisies, and many others.

Gonna send some tags to @bbrocklesnar, @marivenah, @amalkavian, @alexxmason, @captmactavish, @captastra, @carlosoliveiraa, @voidika, @theelderhazelnut, @onehornedbeast, @socially-awkward-skeleton and anyone who wants to do this! (I'm sorry; I'm blanking a little on people to tag tonight.

Before I give everyone the WIPs, I'm going to take a page out of the other peoples' book, and do a tag opt in post. There are three so you can choose what you want to be tagged in. Here they are: edits, writing, and tag games.

I'm mainly working on editing the Phantom Liberty oneshot after finishing my other Rooney/Yorinobu oneshot. But I've also been working on some other stuff in between editing. (Also, these are all first drafts, which mean they are subject to change.)

The first one is one that I'm really excited for. Basic TLDR is that Rooney and Yorinobu are captured in what seems like an intimate moment together by Night City TMZ and makes them seem like Night City's newest hot couple. Only problem is they aren't together. Anyway, stuff happens and this one did spiral a little out of my control:

“Just turn on the news,” They state, frustration tinging their voice as another text from a Reporter shows up in their messages, “You’ll see what I’m talking about.” Confused, Yorinobu pulls up the news, only for understanding to cross his face a second later. A headline reads: Playboy Billionaire’s new Beau is Night City Local! A photo of Rooney and Yorinobu from that night, both of them under his umbrella as he tucks a strand of their hair behind their ear, accompanies the headline. The pair looks so intimate in the photo, and that’s what so violating to Rooney. They’re used to the military spotlight being on them, being known for what they can do. This is new and invasive, and it scares them. Tearing their eyes away from the photo, Rooney looks to Yorinobu who is smirking amusedly. “What’s so funny about this to you?” “I forgot you are not used to this,” He motions to the screen, “Paparazzi have stalked me like this my whole life. It will pass with time. Night City is not dull; they will have moved on by next week.” Uncrossing their arms, Rooney sighs in discomfort. “Are you sure?” They ask, turning towards him. “What if they don’t move on?” “Rooney,” he takes their hands in his, “I promise you it will pass. If it does not, I will step in.”

The second snippet is Rooney having a Relic Malfunction in front of Yorinobu, who doesn't know they have the Relic in their brain:

“Don’t you dare fucking tell him about me,” Johnny orders, shooting a dirty glare Yorinobu’s way as he comes to stand on the other side of the bed. Rooney doesn’t answer, only watching Yorinobu. He sighs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Allow me to restate: Are you talking to Silverhand?” Johnny’s glare deepens. “Well, fuck….Guess ‘Saka Jr is smarter than his father,” He taunts Yorinobu as if Yorinobu could hear him. They don’t answer, which only enrages Yorinobu further, who starts to pace. “I know,” He starts angrily as he paces, “I know you have the Relic in your head. Which can only allows for a few scenarios. You put it in your head willingly, which is not you.” True, if Rooney was going to have someone stuck in their head, it surely wouldn’t be the infamous Rockerboy, Johnny Silverhand. “Someone forced it on you, which I do not think is true either.”

And lastly, a little prompt snippet:

“Is there-?” “Don’t,” Shepard’s voice is low, only loud enough for him to hear, “When we get to the car, you’ll get in, and call security.” “And you are-?” “Doing what’s necessary.” Yorinobu doesn’t like that tone. Why does he get the feeling that Shepard is going to do something reckless? “Please don’t do anything rash.”

[ut-versotale]

Update Time, Update Time

Welcome back, everyone. Hope you all had a very happy New Years! I come bearing a late present for you all: A Versotale update!

Game Progress

As I anticipated, I needed to take a break around the middle of November so I could focus on schoolwork. Now that we've been on break for a little while again and will continue to be for the better part of January, I've already gotten a sizable chunk of stuff done. Still not as much as I would've LIKED to have completed - There are still like only three fully-completed rooms at the moment, and even then they have a ton of WIP assets and first-pass dialogue and all - but, that is the way of coding a game solo, mostly from scratch, and with the occasional glances at Undertale's code, isn't it?

Unfortunately, while I really want to share stuff with you guys, it's all in some way a spoiler that I don't want to spoil for the people who'd rather experience everything fresh for themselves.

...

So, if you DO wanna experience everything fresh for yourself, feel free to bow out of this post here. If you're sticking around, enjoy some mild spoiler-y content, some character designs, and some fun vague allusions to things I still really wanna talk about! I need to give you guys SOMETHING after this long wait, right?

Game Progress: Slightly Spoiler-y Edition

The OPENING CUTSCENE you saw a while back has been tweaked slightly to make Hercine more likable, and so the dialogue can flow a bit more naturally.

Two new cutscenes have been added to the beginning, albeit with some rough visuals. These three all flow into each other, and if you're speaking through each line of dialogue, they only take up about six minutes total. Still, it is a TAD bit too long for my liking without any gameplay behind it, so there's a chance I might cut a cutscene or switch the order of things around so there's a brief gameplay section before the last one. Who knows.

Undyne has been redesigned. Undyne now sports some less bulky armor that combines aspects of her canon casual and armored forms. If she's gonna be there the entire game, she may as well have a visually-interesting design rather than the blob of bluish-grey her armor used to be. I'm sure some people will consider this a downgrade, which is always the risk you run when you redesign a character you've already shown off... but I personally just can't stand working with that old design any longer. The colors barely pop, it looks messy, the armor's boring and flat-colored and almost even blends into her scales, etc.

You didn't get to see the outdated Frisk design I had for this iteration of the project, and I'm glad you didn't, because upon writing more of their scenes and reconfiguring their personality, I HAD to redesign them again. I don't anticipate this one changing ANY time soon, but, as with Undyne, no promises.

Next up, some important human characters in the first area that AREN'T Frisk! You'll meet them later on, and I really hope you all end up liking them and the story behind them! In the meantime, here, have their designs. Again, they might change, but I'm comfortable with these for now.

That's all I feel comfortable showing off for the first area at the moment! I'm hoping to record everything up until the first save point and post it on YouTube at some point before the end of January (Again, as I must reiterate, in its very unfinished form), but no promises!

While that's all for the first area, I have been poking around with redesigning some of the later characters you guys have not even seen yet. Particularly, the primary antagonist of the new Cold West. I have to admit, I was a little worried that, if I didn't switch up his design, people would start comparing him to Clover since Undertale Yellow is still fresh in a lot of our memories right now, but... I think you guys will really like "The long scarf of the law." He's a fun character.

Alright, that's all from me! I hope you guys enjoyed this brief little peek at some mild spoiler-y content! I hope to be back soon with some neat stuff for y'all to see in action!

[illiana-mystery]

WIP Wednesday

Since I gave you a taste of my work in progress for the Dafoeverse fics I've been writing last week, I decided to give you a dose of what I have written for the Molinaverse fics that have been put on indefinite hiatus.

Because I love yall, I appreciate your patience with my ever changing phases (like I'm the goddamn moon), and I've left you on read for far too long.

Also, side note, if any of you have suggestions about how I should go about continuing any of these WIPs, please let me know in the replies, my ask box, or DMs. Thank you! 😘

---

Covert Affairs (this one goes out to @freddiefredfive)

Rafi was talking to Donnie when they walked back in and Leo was nowhere in sight. Kazia figured he was back upstairs with Jeanine, so didn't think anything of it.

But the remaining brothers were talking and laughing loudly and didn't even notice that Tadeusz and Kazia were in the room until Rafi noticed the young woman.

He was staring offly hard with his big brown eyes that perfectly complimented his baby face and reddish cheeks.

He looked like Leo, but had skin as smooth as a baby's bottom and his hair was curly and styled nicely on his head.

Kazia could immediately tell that he probably thought highly of himself, since the threads he was wearing were of high expense and quality.

"Well, hello," he said seductively before he realized that Tadeusz was standing next to her.

Tadeusz scowled at him before he nervously laughed and put his head down.

But next thing he knew, he was grabbed by his collar by the older, taller, stronger man.

"Kazia's mine, got it?" he angrily said before he plucked his head.

"Yeah, yeah. I was just playing, buddy. You know Layla is my girl. I love her so much...I just wish she wanted to marry me..."

"I don't care," he sternly said. "Now, let's have a chat."

He dragged the poor young man away, much to Kazia and Donnie's horror.

"You like them rough, huh?" Donnie teased after.

"Not usually," Kazia admitted before pushing a strand of hair behind her ear and blushing. "But Tadeusz is different."

"If you say so," Donnie moaned.

Meanwhile, Tadeusz brought Rafi to one of the backrooms and threw him down before he closed and locked it behind them.

"Who's that Rudy guy?" he sternly asked.

"Tadeusz, do you have history with him or something? Why do you care?"

"My punching fist might be out of commission, but I'll use my other on your pretty little face if you don't answer what I asked you!"

"Okay, okay," Rafi flinched. "He's just a friend of mine. Well, actually he knew Layla first. They have mutual friends and when she introduced him to me, I knew he would be a perfect fit for our familgia."

"Oh, I see," he softly said as he paced. "So we don't even properly vet members anymore. Oh, silly me. Now, tell me Rafi, why do you think you can trust him?"

"I mean I am a good judge in character."

"Yes, Layla is a lovely girl," Tadeusz sarcastically said. "But you really aren't cut out for this life. What would you do if your brothers' lives were snuffed out...one by one? What if you had no one to hold you hand?"

Rafi was about to reply before Tadeusz cut him off again.

"Because I was once naive like you. I thought seeking quick, easy money would be heaven in Belarus...but it wasn't. I was betrayed many times and every time it became harder and harder to take their lives away," he coldly said.

"Until it wasn't anymore. It was just something that had to be done. You cross me, you die. It's as simple as that. So I say all of this to say, Rafi, you better watch that Rudy fella or I'll be forced to take both of you out, painfully...very painfully. Got it?!" 

"Yes, of course."

"Good, glad we had this talk. Now come on. You didn't properly introduce yourself to MY Kazia."

"Right," he moaned as he trembled while getting up.

But Tadeusz just yanked him again and brought him back into the room by his arm. He dropped him again and the young man fell so hard it made both Donnie and Kazia jump.

"Hello, Kazia," he greeted. "I'm Raphael Scaglioni, but everyone calls me Rafi. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," she softly said as he got up.

She shook his hand and then he went over by Donnie.

Kazia looked at Tadeusz confused, but he just put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

"Nie przejmuj się. Chciałem tylko zapytać go o Rudy ' ego." (Don't be alarmed. I just wanted to ask him about Rudy), he told her. "Rozumie tylko siłę." (He only understands force)

"Nie jestem zaskoczony," (I'm not surprised), she replied back. "On naprawdę wydaje się trochę przytłumiony." (He really does seem a little dim)

"To dlatego, że jest." (That's because he is)

"Prawo." (Right)

"Everything alright, Tadeusz?" Donnie asked as his little brother still hid behind him.

"Yes, everything is fine," he softly said.

Donnie didn't believe him though. He only spoke Polish, usually to himself, when he was angry or frustrated around them. Kazia nervously giggled before her stomach started growling.

"Sorry."

"No need to apologize," Tadeusz assured with another kiss on her cheek. "Well, if you would excuse us, I'm gonna take Kazia back upstairs to eat and meet Layla."

"Of course," Donnie said before they both headed back up the secret staircase behind the replica Trevi Fountain.

The secret door closed by itself behind them once their feet touched the hardwood floor of the cafe and when it did, it startled Marla and Layla. They both jumped before they both smiled at the young couple.

Tadeusz and Kazia smiled back but Kazia noticed that Jeanine and Angelo weren't there anymore.

But there was one customer at one of the tables by the painted Union Jack that was munching on a croissant while watching videos on their laptop.

This person was wearing noise canceling headphones, so they were completely unaware of what was going on around them.

---

Jealousy

"I don't know what I want to wear," Alice whined as she frantically looked through all of her clothes hanging up in the closet.

Her husband, meanwhile, was sitting on their bed, just watching her.

He began to worry that she was gonna have a panic attack again, so he tried to lighten the mood.

"I don't see why you can't wear what you have on now. You look gorgeous."

Alice giggled.

"Thank you, Aldie. But I want to make a good first impression and an red and brown plaid overall skirt and creme shirt just isn't gonna cut it," she said. "I want to wear something a little fancier."

"I don't see what the problem is. We met Rodney before and in overalls."

"I know, but he has Shaye with him. I do want to start making some friends around here."

"She's no friend until I vet her," Alden grumbled.

"Of course," Alice quickly agreed. "I trust your judgment."

The way she said that made Alden worry again since she sounded like she was about to cry. So he got up and walked over to her, rubbing her shoulders again to comfort her.

"Alice, it's gonna be alright," he whispered. "Although we are safe, I still can't help but be cautious. I don't want anyone to hurt you the way he did again."

"Oh, Alden. It isn't that. I just...even far away from home I still feel unsafe. I hate that I can't just trust people anymore."

"Not all people are untrustworthy," he said before he moved his hands down to her midsection. "Just take a deep breath."

Alice did as she was instructed and as she did so, she suddenly felt herself being picked up and brought over to their bed.

She kept her eyes closed though and allowed Alden to put her down on the middle of the bed.

"Keep deep breathing," he instructed before he hiked her skirt up and slowly took her panties off.

Once discarded, he began to softly kiss her inner thighs before he finally went for the kill. Alice was still trying to keep her deep breathing up during all of this, but then her breath hitched as soon as she felt his tongue inside her.

She, at first, gasped before she got her breaths back up and began to deep breath again. Her heart was beating so fast in her chest as her lover kept going, teasing an amazing orgasm out of her. She tried to hold it back and tightly gripped the sheets below her, but eventually she broke and loudly moaned as she climaxed.

But she didn't just climax, she also squirted a little which amused her husband. She could clearly hear him giggling between her legs, before the sound of joyous slurping invaded her auditory sense.

"I'm sorry," she nervously apologized.

"Don't be," he whispered before he kissed her lower lips. "I haven't gotten you that excited in quite some time."

She giggled.

"Yeah, I haven't had that reaction since before...the first time...he appeared..." she realized before she started to cry. "I'm sorry, Aldie. I just...I just..."

Alden immediately picked himself up and grabbed Alice before he held her in his lap and began to sing to her again to calm her down.

"It's alright, Misu. I won't let him hurt you. I won't let him get near you ever again."

Alice didn't respond, she just kept crying with her head nudged on his shoulder. He gently rubbed her back, still singing a little to her.

But as he sung, his mind went dark...real dark.

He knew he would gain so much joy taking away the life of the man that hurt his wife so. But he had to stop himself.

He had to.

He couldn't risk going to jail. It wasn't worth it.

But yet, it felt so inticing. It felt like a sure fire way to get rid of him once and for all, but he knew Alice would be against it. It was her battle to fight, after all he was her old flame.

She never wanted to put Alden in the middle of this, but now here he was. Here he was miles away from the place he used to call home, consoling his anxious and brow beaten wife in their so-say dream home.

The man took everything from them. So was he in the wrong to want to cause him the most harm he could?

He still kept his singing up, well until Alice stopped crying and moved her hand to his cheek.

He just looked at her before she leaned over and kissed him.

"I love you so much, Aldie," she softly said.

"I love you too, Misu."

She lightly smiled and was about to kiss him again before her phone began to ring.

Alden kissed her cheek and reached for the phone that was closer to him before he handed it to her.

"Hey Nick," she greeted. "What's up?"

"I just finished watching your first local interview," he started. "I love the storefront. It's gorgeous."

"Thank you," Alden smugly said. "It makes a perfect bookstore."

"It really does. Nice taste, man," he said with a laugh. "Also I can't believe Lori Amato is your cousin."

"That's what I'm saying! I was fangirling a little too hard. But she's so nice," Alice chirped. "His whole extended family is so sweet. They've been nothing but friendly."

"Well, I'm glad to hear that. I also see that you have a lot of new fangirls, Alden. There are a lot of thirst comments on this video."

"I don't see why. I'm not the stern Dr. Bertanelli of Middleburg University anymore."

"So," Alice huffed. "You're still handsome and fine as hell and these girls agree with me."

"You're not mad?" he asked.

"Why would I be? I don't get jealous like you do," she joked. "They can say whatever they want, but at the end of the day, you're sleeping next to me."

He chuckled and kissed her nose.

"Also, I noticed that the amount of views and comments on our first video with Alden performing with us as Java Joe's has gone up by a lot."

"Really?" they both asked.

"Yep, really. We also have a lot of returning reviewers to our second performance with Alden. Most of the viewers are from Navassa, of course."

"Wow, well maybe we'll have to get the band back together...for the sake of the fans," Alden said.

"I'd be down. I'm sure Quinn would be too. Adam's a father now so it might be a bit difficult and then Mitzi and Maisie have their own band, Ungaii, now but maybe I could intice them."

---

Ring Around the Rosie

"Dinner's ready!" Sabrina called from the stairs while Otto and the actuators were setting up the dining room table and bringing the stew and the freshly-baked soda bread to the table.

As soon as Flo placed the last fork down, Rosie came down with Mallory in her grasp, while Margaux clung to her free arm.

She was giggling with them which made Sabrina smile before Rosie put Mallory down for both of the girls to greet their mother.

They both hugged and kissed Sabrina, then ran to the table and took their seats.

"They're such wonderful girls," Rosie told Sabrina as they walked to the table together.

"Yes, yes they are," Sabrina chirped before she took her designated seat.

Otto led Rosie to her seat while Harry cut the bread and Flo and Moe helped scoop the stew unto Margaux and Mallory's bowls.

"Daddy," Margaux asked.

"Yes, Rosie Posie?" he answered back while he took his seat, watching as Flo and Moe went ahead and put the stew in the adults' bowls too.

She giggled.

"What's this?"

"It's Irish Stew and Soda Bread," Otto answered. "Thom Donaghue's recipe."

"Who's that?" Mallory asked.

"My father," Rosie excitedly answered with a big smile, making the girls giggle. "And your father learned the recipe and now he's able to make it for us."

"He's never made it before," Margaux admitted.

"I wanted to make it for Rosie. To welcome her back into our family," Otto explained.

"It was my favorite meal my father would cook for us," Rosie added. "It was also the first meal he had with my parents. He was so nervous to meet them but then he and my father bonded over Tolkien."

"Who's Tolkien?" Margaux asked.

"He's a wonderful author. He wrote fantasy novels. His literature was a great escape for me when I was younger."

"He wrote The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings," Rosie added. "Are you familiar with those books?"

"I didn't know they were books. But I know of the movies," Margaux answered.

"Otto, you need to get them into the books," Rosie nudged. "Have I taught you nothing? They love literature. I'm sure they wouldn't mind sharing your love of Tolkien with you."

"How many books did you read to them upstairs?" Sabrina suddenly asked.

"Just three. But they are so inquisitive and curious. They're two bright little girls. Well advanced beyond their age."

"Thank you!" they both chirped.

"Would you be interested in learning more about Tolkien?" he asked them.

They both nodded, so he said, "Well, alright. Guess we're gonna be taking another trip to the library."

The girls both cheered.

"But until then, we can watch The Hobbit tonight if you would like. We do have Family Movie Night on Fridays. And Rosie, you're welcome to watch the movie with us."

"Where can we watch The Hobbit?" Otto asked Sabrina.

"We have a subscription with the parent company of our SmartTV. You can rent it or buy it on their website."

"Oh, well guess we have our movie for movie night!" he cheered.

Rosie giggled after taking her first bite of the stew.

"Otto, you really outdid yourself. This is really good."

"Thank you," he said with a genuine smile.

"You're welcome," she said before taking another bite.

"I suppose he used to spoil you too with his cooking."

"We would switch nights to cook, but when it was his turn. He always blew me away. I'm not surprised though. Maria was a wizard in the kitchen. She always had the best side dishes at my family's parties."

"Maria was close to your parents?" Sabrina asked Rosie.

"Oh, yeah. After his father died, she would come around all the time. We loved having her."

"How nice," Sabrina cooed.

"Sabrina," Rosie started. "I must say I love the way you decorated this home. Otto told me you picked out most of the decor and I'm impressed. Also I love the crushed flowers hanging on the walls in the guest room. It just takes me back to our old apartment and my old office at the university."

"I figured you would," she said. "We actually bought those for our old apartment when it was just us two. Otto told me how much you loved crushed flowers so I decided to get them since I love them too."

"My mother and I used to make scrapbooks of different flowers we would find around the yard," Rosie started. "I would pick them and show them to her before we would crush them and add them to the book."

"Small world," Sabrina chirped. "That's what I used to do with my grandmother back in Atlanta."

"No way!" Rosie chirped. "Well, now we have another reason why Otto fell for you."

"I guess so," she joked. "But wait, are you from NYC?"

"No, no. I'm from Rochester but moved to NYC when I got accepted to Columbia University."

"Oh, gotcha. I'm from Atlanta originally, but moved here to pursue my dreams of being on Broadway. Of course my dreams changed when I met Otto and especially when we had the girls, but I love my life. I wouldn't change a thing."

"Glad to hear it," Rosie said. "It's funny because my dreams changed too when I met Otto on those steps. I was planning on moving to Belfast and being a professor there, but then he knocked me off my feet with his science know-how and dorky smile."

"Am I that charming?" he asked before blushing.

"Don't flatter yourself too much," Rosie warned. "No one looks good with a big head."

"Fair," he moaned before taking a bite of his soda bread.

"Mommy," Mallory asked.

"Yes, Muffin?"

"Can Rosie stay with us?"

"Yeah, can she?"

"Well, I hope she can. Your father did set up the guest room all nice for her."

"Rosie?" Margaux asked with big puppy dog eyes. "Would you like to stay with us?"

"I would love to," she answered before looking at Otto. "I see she has your puppy dog eyes."

"Yeah, she's my little twin."

"Daddy, can she tell us a bedtime story tonight?" Margaux asked.

"Am I not good enough to read you a story anymore?" he asked with a whiny tone. "I thought you liked Story Time with Sailor Aubrey."

"We do, daddy," Margaux assured. "But we..."

"Margaux, how about this. What if Sailor Aubrey had a first mate? How about we have Story Time with Sailor Aubrey and First Mate Annie?"

"Anne is her middle name," Otto whispered to Sabrina, noticing her confused face.

"Yay! I like that! Can we do that, daddy?"

"Sure we can, Rosie Posie," he told her. "Thank you, Rosie."

"Of course. I hope you don't mind, Sabrina."

"Oh, no. I don't. I let Otto handle story time. I handle bath time."

"Okay, good. The last thing I want to do is ruin your groove."

"Oh, no, you're fine, Rosie. Thank you for being considerate though." 

"No problem," she said. "So what's for dessert?"

---

Jolly Ol' Saint Otto

Imag'n Toy Boutique was not too far from their Chelsea townhome, so it was a quick, quiet drive.

Their parking lot was behind the building, so Otto slowly turned the corner and parked in the empty space next to the back entrance.

He got out of the car first, taking in the crisp cool air as his breath was first taken away in a wisp of cold smoke as he took a first.

His actuators, who were once out and free huddled next to his vehicle's heater, quickly tucked themselves tight inside his big coat, jittering from the cold sensation they were forced to feel.

And although Otto was freezing and shaking in his coat, he couldn't help but adore how adorable Sabrina's reaction was to the snow.

The whole ride there she was silently humming Christmas carols while watching the snow fall, making his heart skip a beat.

Slowly, he opened her door and helped her out. She giggled and twirled around in the snow fall after she was released making her cold husband laugh in delight.

Swiftly, he joined her before she ran over and hugged him. He tightly hugged her back, enjoying the fluffinest of her coat as well as her natural warmth before he remembered the task at hand.

"We should have a snowball fight," she cooed as they walked gloved hand and hand to the front entrance.

He chuckled and answered, "After we finish shopping. I think there's probably enough snow in the parking lot to do that."

"Okay," she happily chirped.

They didn't even manage to fully get through the front door before the owner jumped out from the back to greet them.

She had a very happy attitude with a big white smile to boot. Her very curly red hair was bouncing in the reintroduced wind that the open door brought while her blue-green eyes twinkled in the bright lights about her.

"Hello, welcome to Imag'n!" she cheered before she realized who was standing in her doorway.

It was like she lost her train of thought as she stared at her customers, immediately noticing the actuators popping out of the bottom of Otto's coat to enjoy the warmth from the store's heater.

She squealed and ran over to them.

"Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. I can't believe you're in my store. I'm such a big fan, Sabrina."

"Oh," she chirped. "Would you like..."

"Yes!" she immediately answered before she took her phone out of her pocket. "I just want a picture."

Sabrina nervously giggled and replied, "Okay."

Flo moved over by them and picked up the woman's phone much to her surprise. Meanwhile, the others came over to observe her before Otto told them to come back by him.

Reluctantly, they obeyed and Flo was able to take the pictures in peace. She took three and then handed it back to the woman, but her claw stayed opened with a faint glow of yellow.

"Ooh, these are really nice," the lady chirped. "Who knew the tentacles were this good at photography?"

All of them screeched at her comment before Sabrina pet Flo's claw and corrected her.

"They're called actuators. They hate being called tentacles," she said before the other three came by her and pet her cheeks in response.

"Wow, they really like you," she observed. "Not that I should be surprised. I watch your podcast all of the time and they're always all on you."

"You're an Actuatually fan?"

"Am I? I started watching it after I saw you perform as Giselle. You were amazing. And honestly, you two make such a cute couple. Relationship goals."

"Thank you, I think," Otto responded.

Sabrina giggled.

"Oh, where are my manners?" she jokingly asked. "I'm Elinor Whittaker. But you can call me Ellie. I'm the owner of this establishment."

"Oh, we know," Otto remarked. "I read about your grand opening in the Post."

"Funny, I thought you would have said The Daily Bugle."

"I don't read that trash," he grumbled.

"Right," she moaned. "Well, I assume you're here for the little one. I heard the news. Congratulations. You two are gonna be wonderful parents. Now if you just follow me, I'll take you to the baby toys."

"Actually, we're here for..." Sabrina started before Otto stopped her.

He insisted that Elinor take them to the baby toys, despite Sabrina's look of frustration at him.

Elinor didn't notice though and led them to the back of the store nearby the many Lego building sets that were displayed based on difficulty.

The baby toys, which were on the adjacent wall, were displayed flawlessly with each type of toy being put in a certain place.

The sensory and teething toys were right in the center of a buyers focal point while the educational toys were to the right and the plushies and dollies were to the left.

But Otto's eyes lit up when he noticed a plastic toy boat that looked a lot like the one he had as a child.

However, he reserved his excitement until Elinor finally left them alone to browse.

After she left, Sabrina started to softly tease him about the fact that they weren't there to look for toys for Margaux. But he was so fascinated with the boat that he didn't even register her teasing.

Slowly he grasped it in his leather gloved hands and just took in the amazing craftsmanship of it.

Although it was just plastic unlike the wood carved one his abuela gave him decades ago, he still could admire the beautiful paint job reminiscent of his old toy.

He hypothesized that whoever made this really want to put a nice little touch on it.

Sabrina soon noticed his fascination and the little admiring twinkle in his eye, which made her warmly smile.

Leave it to Otto to find the simple, little things in life so intriguing, she thought.

But she did admire that about him as well though.

"Starlight, we should get this for Margaux."

"Octi, we came here to shop for..."

"I know, I know," he playfully huffed. "But I want our little girl to have a piece of my childhood."

"Piece of your childhood?" she asked curiously.

"I used to have a toy boat just like this," he happily explained. "But it was handmade...wood carved. My abuela made it for me. She painted it almost exactly the same."

"Your abuela was a woodworker?" she asked in a surprised tone. She knew that his mother, Maria, was half Spanish so the fact that he called his grandmother 'abuela' didn't confuse her, but what did confuse her was how fondly he spoke of her.

He rarely talked about his family other than his mother, but it was a welcomed info-drop nonetheless.

"Yeah," he said with a bright smile as he kept looking at the boat in his hands. By then the actuators also fully crept out of his big coat and admired it too, their lights glowing as pink as Otto's pale face.

"She was a woodworker and a potter. Her mother was gifted in the work of clay and her father was a carpenter. She was the third of five girls and my great-grandfather was afraid that he wouldn't have anyone to pass the skill on to. But she grasped it real fast and helped him at his shop until she met my Opa. He was on a European tour and they met at a Cafe. They fell in love and eventually moved here. My mother grew up not too far from here."

"You never told me that."

"It never came up," he said with a chuckle. "Maybe I'll show you on the way back home."

"I would like that," she replied. "So I guess you really loved that boat."

"I did. I took it every where I went when I was little. My Opa was an boating enthusiast. He had his own boat that he would take me on all of the time and we even participate in some boat races near the Hudson. We won a couple of tournaments."

"Hmm, so that's why you're so good with your hands," she hummed. "It was all in your hereditary."

He chuckled.

"Yes, well that and many summers with abuela and opa."

---

If you haven't seen my Dafoeverse WIPs and are interested in reading them, you can read them here.

Stay tuned for some Otto & Sabrina and Alden & Alice fics that I shelved until further notice. As well as my long-overdue WIP for Closing Time!

But until then, Happy Reading!

[soulsilversprings]

WIP Wednesday

I finally remembered to post for one of these! The opening of "I Know A Friend" - Ch. 3! Ash vs. Norman is happening soon, and Petalburg City is still as unhinged as ever :')

The gang was scheduled to meet outside Petalroot Savory – some upscale establishment with cursive signage and dim lighting. But five minutes past their reservation time, the Hoenn natives still hadn't arrived. 

"Well, we better go in" – Dawn checked her Pokétch – "or we'll lose our reservation."

"Let's go, I'm starving," Ash agreed, charging ahead of the group to enter the restaurant. 

But whereas normally, Ash's presence brought warmth wherever he went, this time the atmosphere went frigid – the hostess’ smile dropping as Ash approached the stand. She pulled aside a nearby waiter and leaned close, covering the side of her face as she spoke in a hushed voice.

What could be the matter? Chloe wondered.

"I'm very sorry," the hostess finally said, turning her attention back to Ash, "but unfortunately, we're unable to seat you tonight."

"What's wrong?" Gary asked, eyes narrowed as he pointed to a row of empty tables. "Those aren't all reserved, are they?"

The hostess grimaced and looked down at the register. "Yes, well, unfortunately–"

"Get 'im outta here!" one patron yelled, and a chorus of boos followed from the dining area.

"What's going on?" Chloe asked.

"I'll tell you what's going on," an elderly woman said, waggling a finger in Ash’s direction. "This one wants to besmirch the good name of Petalburg!"

“That’s right!” The man next to her stood up indignantly. "Those who dare challenge the great Norman are not welcome here!"

"Arceus, not this again..." Ash groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as the customers continued to jeer. "We didn't have a problem last night. What gives?"

“What do you mean, again?” Dawn asked.

Meanwhile, Goh rested a concerned hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder while shuffling behind him – looking both to protect and be protected at the same time.

Chloe couldn’t quite blame him, though, as more irate customers began to approach the lobby.

Are we… really getting kicked out?

She’d never seen anything quite like– 

"Are you kidding me?!" a set of new voices sounded from behind. The group turned around, Dawn and Ash beaming at the sight of the three indignant guests who had just entered.

“This is ridiculous.” The bespectacled, Farigiraf-proportioned man approached the hostess. “I can assure you, my dad would want us to be able to eat here.”

“Pardon?” the hostess asked.

All eyes were drawn to the bandana-clad brunette, who shot a fiery glare at the staff as she slammed her fists on the stand. "My dad is Norman, you fucking idi–”

Her wrath was restrained by the other man – cabbage-like hair and about her height – who, even as he pulled her back by the shoulders, looked upon her fondly, wearing a smirk as if he were impressed.

Tense seconds passed as the employees murmured amongst each other in confusion. Then, the hostess stammered – something resembling an apology – and just like that, she led the group to a table for eight.

[merlyn-bane]

Fic Writer 20 Questions

Thanks for the tag, @frostbitebakery !!🥰🥰🥰

1.) How many works do you have on ao3

35, but that also includes some of pyro's that I'm listed as co on because I helped with so much of the plotting out and behind the scenes stuff

2.) What's your ao3 word count?

336,631

3.) What fandoms do you write for?

Right now primarily Star Wars bc that's where my brainrot is, but I've been known to play around in a few other sandboxes. There are a few Star Trek fics on my AO3 as well, and there's a multifandom xreader sideblog floating around somewhere that I am not going to tag because I consider it a Different Era and not reflective of the work I'm doing now. Even though I'm STILL getting notes on a Wolverine smut fic I posted all the way back in 2018.

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

Foelu

SubObi Week Day Five

SubObi Week Day One

SubObi Week Day Four

SubObi Week Day Six

(Foelu is leading by A Margin in basically everything but hits now, it's insane)

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to! And I'm usually pretty good at it. Sometimes I'm really not sure what to say and sometimes I get kind of overwhelmed so not always, but I do try. I'm super behind on Foelu atm bc you all continue to just blow me away with the support on that one, but I promise I'm planning to sit down and try to get caught up soon.

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Angsty endings aren't super my thing, to be honest. Most of the things I've actually finished have happy endings, just because that's my personal preference. Most of my angst is in the middle, and I'd say probably the angstiest fic I have (at least right now) is Traveling Song. Ari has...been through it. It used to be a whole lot worse before the first rewrite happened though.

7.) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Idk, maybe the Obi-Wan Omegaverse series I did for SubObi Week?

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet, here's to hoping that doesn't change anytime soon.

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Oh, yes. All sorts of it 😈😈

10.) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Crossovers have never super been my thing, so no, not really.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that know of, again, hoping it stays that way.

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not yet, I think, but I have had one or two podfic'ed!

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

I'm listed as a co-author on @pyromanicdaydreamer 's The Moments In Between since I helped with so much of the development for it (what can I say, I'm an ideas guy if I'm anything), but I've never really co-written anything, as far as the actual words and stuff.

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

I'm mentally ill about Codywan in a way I've never really been before or since, to be honest. They're my special little guys. Also, though, Octavious and Jedidiah from Night At The Museum, Obviously.

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Oh, so many.

16.) What are your writing strengths?

I think the most consistent feedback I've gotten is that my character work and humor are good, which does just make me feel real nice because characterization is something I worry about.

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

I am a total slave to the muse, my WIP graveyard is sprawling. I do think I could stand to be a little more descriptive at times, and I'm never going to claim that an English teacher wouldn't cry at some of my grammar. I'm a lot more concerned with how things sound than if they're technically correct.

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

It's one of those things that's dependent on the characters, but when appropriate I do think it can add more depth. It also just makes sense for some characters--for example, you can be on either side of the clones-being-Mandalorian debate, but picking up another language from the trainers that the Kaminoans and likely their future generals don't know could only be in their best interest strategically.

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

Marvel I think. Pyro and I wrote a bunch of OC stuff in the 2012 era, and I think one of my very first ones was a Thor x OC that might even still be on ff.net.

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

Oh fuck. Uh. C'mon, man, this is like asking me to choose a favorite child. Shit. Um. I don't know if it's my favorite, but They Told Me I Couldn't Bag A Jedi was a lot of fucking fun to work on.

I think I'm gonna tag @ferretrade @goddammitjim @shootingstarpilot @bluemaskedkarma @brigittttoo

[mamavino]

Hi MamaVino! 💕

For your ask game what about 🦋, 🪲 and 🌻?

Hey Kalolasfantasyworld. Thanks for your message 🎀.

Oh we start with a deep 🦋 ⇢ share something that has been on your heart and mind lately. This is a bit personal but my uncle is doing very badly, he is at the end of his life and is on a morphine pump, he has spread cancer. So you automatically think more about life and death now. Yeah that keeps you busy sometimes.

The second one stands with me as a cube. So I'm guessing this one haha. 🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here Here we go:

Together with Yami, Charlotte walked toward the circus tent. The smell of freshly popped popcorn and cotton candy tingled up her nose. Dust was blown up as a clown danced on one foot through the loose sand. Alarmed, Charlotte stepped aside and accidentally bumped into Yami. 

His gray eyes watched her playfully. Why was he with her again? This man was short-circuiting her mind. Music from a violin overtook them and quickly both Charlotte and Yami looked up. Beside the entrance to the tent was a large birdcage, inside it a woman with skin as white as snow. On her shoulder, a violin, the soft melody brought a cheerful but mysterious sensation. 

In front of the big main circus tent a big man suddenly appeared, proudly the man looked from under his top hat. When he spoke, his big thick mustache moved. He brought his chest forward and made a bowing motion as he danced a kind of staff through his fingers. 

“Ladies and gentlemen. Boys and girls. Step right up, step right up. Come closer, you won't believe your eyes. Behind this curtain. Witness something you've never seen before Heard before, dreamt before The most amazing show on Earth.” 

Two dancers in tight fitting suits making handstands while throwing a ball at each other. 

“It's the most amazing show on earth”

In the distance, a trumpet sounded from a gray fat animal with a trunk. 

“Do you want to be widely entertained? People to know your name? Do you crave fame? Well, they say, "Things aren't always what they seem to be" Even your greatest fantasies. You won't believe your eyes. Won't even recognize. The wonderment that lies Behind the shimmer and the lights.“

Just past Yami suddenly walked a sturdily built woman in a beautiful dress. She was beautiful but her beard was the first thing that stood out. Flirtatiously, the woman winked at Yami

“Is it true what they say? Is it all just fun and games? Or is there more behind the makeup? And the faces full of paint? I ask you, do you want to come and play?”

Again the clown ran through the audience, almost fell, for fun, and ran on again as if he had almost had an accident. Very strange. 

“Get the world to come and play”

Charlotte and Yami handed their tickets to a beautiful woman with hair like cotton candy and a freckle above her lip. After this, they walked into the tent. They heard the ringmaster shout something else. 

“So sit back, relax, fasten your seatbelts. It's going to be a bumpy ride to the other side” 

Time to take a closer look at the show.

[wanderingaldecaldo]

💕 self-love time! talk about which ones of YOUR creations (edits, artworks, fanfics) you like the most then send to other creators to do the same 💕

Thank you so much @kohnnor!! 🥰

I posted about Val as the creation I like the most for the first ask I got, but by god I'm gonna answer every one of these because I'm really proud of all the stuff I've made in the last few years!

My longfic No One's Gonna Love You is right behind Val as far as creations I love. As I mentioned in that post and in others, I hadn't felt compelled to write in a long time. I have a couple of WIPs from DA:I and ME2 that I would pull out to work on whenever I had inspiration, but that wasn't often. I wouldn't say that I missed writing so much as the idea of being a writer.

When I started Cyberpunk, I had no preconceptions about the NPCs or romances, and I certainly didn't expect to fall for a minor NPC with not much screen time. (This is the first time it's happened to me, actually.) Initially I was captivated by Goro like so many others, but I fell in love with Mitch when V woke up in Pan's truck during The Star ending, and he was waiting for V to wake up. Any thoughts of writing a Pride & Prejudice inspired fic between Goro and V flew out the window because of those beautiful blue eyes.

For months Val and Mitch consumed my brain. I stayed up late every night to write, pouring more and more of myself into the story, learning more about both Val and Mitch as I went. At the time, I felt it was some of my best prose, like the intervening years that I hadn't been writing but was still consuming other media didn't matter. As if I was able to translate the years of experience I'd accumulated into words that could evoke feelings. What was meant to be a fun, smutty romp turned into a study of grief and loss.

And I found a new freedom to play like I hadn't experienced before. I experimented with the narrative; used repetition in different ways; played with flashbacks and dialogue; left room for characters to breathe and tell the story their own way. I had more fun writing that story than just about anything else I'd written to that point in my life.

More than that, I also learned how to create for myself. It didn't matter that I ended up in rare pair hell with few people there to cheer me on, because I was the target audience for the fic. It's the most self-indulgent thing I've written, because I wrote it for me.

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading. Words aren't as exciting or captivating as pictures, but words are my life, and these words in particular are some of the best words I've ever put together.

Chapters: 7/7 Fandom: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mitch Anderson/V (Cyberpunk 2077), Female V/Mitch Anderson, Referenced Mitch Anderson/Scorpion, Mitch Anderson (Cyberpunk 2077)/Original Character(s) Characters: V (Cyberpunk 2077), Mitch Anderson (Cyberpunk 2077), Streetkid V - Character, Panam Palmer, Carol Emeka, Cassidy Righter Additional Tags: Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Spoilers, The Star Ending (Cyberpunk 2077), Angst, Angst and Feels, Porn with Feelings, Porn With Plot, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Gratuitous Smut, Shameless Smut, like a ridiculous amount of it, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Character, Stand Alone Series: Part 2 of Into My Arms Summary:

V studies his face, half shadow, half moonlit. He is handsome, now that she’s looking for it—once broken Roman nose, full, expressive lips, slate blue eyes now full of concern, the scar exaggerated by the shadows. How could she have missed this, missed him? So much time wasted.

[mandareeboo]

🌹

for every “🌹” received in my inbox i’ll post one random sentence of a random WIP i’m currently writing

Waving her inside, Eda was surprised to have the girl stand in front of her desk with her hands behind her back. "Aren't you supposed to be, like, a little hellion? What's all this junk?"

"I respect you waaaaay more than my other teachers. I was, uh, hoping to find out if you take requests? Of a more serious nature."

"I am not teaching you kids sex ed. The sheer amount of shit I'm already getting for telling you to fuck the government is-"

"No, no! Nothing like that." Emira held her hands up with a disgusted expression. Eda privately wondered if she was picturing a lesson from her grandma. "See, I've been doing Healing on the side with my Illusions. And I like it a lot. Like, a lot a lot. I'm thinking of dropping Illusions entirely for it. So I've been studying a lot about various illnesses, and there's nothing about curses, so-"

"Oh, here we go," she tsked, feeling thirty years of her Gwendolyn's pestering land squarely on her shoulders. "Look, Minty Fresh. I appreciate the thought, but curses aren't- you can't fix me."

"I know that," she replied sharply. "I was thinking more along the lines of stuff I can give cursed patients. Phone numbers for help lines, good elixir shops, basic pamphlets. They don't have anything about any of it out there. It's ridiculous! I'm sure there's a lot of cursed people on the Isles that just don't know where to go or who to talk to. Me and the girls really want to destigmatize it."

"Girls?" Eda heard herself say, but it felt hollow. She was struggling to process the sheer passion on the Blight's face.

"Some gal-pals I've made in the Healing classes. We're all super interested!"

[haellen-o]

10 for the unwriten/unpublished fic thing

so its kind of a weird situation because i post almost all of my writings in a private friend group (which you obviously know but others may not) so i guess its kinda cheating to share what i've posted there?

so i guess i'll share this snippet of a WIP that i'm writing currently

but since i think you're the only person who follows me (that actively uses tumblr) that's from our friendgroup server. i'll share this little bit too from a fic i posted there. just for the folks are aren't in the server

Ophelia once again sat on the sidelines of another noble's ballroom party. The entire fortemps family invited, but conveniently they forgot to send an invitation to the girlfriend of the only daughter born to the fortemps name. And to boot, its invitation only, no plus ones. If you aren’t on the list or have an invitation. You aren’t getting in The bigger shame was this was one of the few times ophelia had actually dressed for the occasion. A black vest with a white shirt underneath with a pale blue tie. And a matching coat with black fur She wanted to actually show ysayle she could dance, not just simple waltz moves. But more complex intricate couples dances too… She may have received some training as payment many years ago for helping out around the ala mhigan refugee camp But alas. At the door ysayle was rejected, and once more ysayle had to stop ophelia from flying into a rage. The fortemps brothers and edmont had tried to cheer her up after and even talk to the venue holder behind her back. But the answer was simply no. Ysayle wasn’t getting in no matter how hard they pleaded… Or warned And of course. A beautiful woman well dressed and alone, led to many single noblemen trying to court her. Even a few noblewomen tried it. But the response was always the same. She had a girlfriend. And wasn’t willing to dance with anyone but her (much to emmanellains dismay too) “May I have this dance?” A voice checked ophelia back into reality She looked up and saw a well dressed elezen, the perfect mental image of a nobleman. Silky fabrics, expensive clothing, and a snake's smile. She had just about had enough of it today “The only dance i’d have with you is the one where i’m running a blade through your heart”

actual unpublished thing below this since its got endwalker spoilers

Ophelia let go of her sword and walked forward a little “You can give up. We can leave here, and you can join me in my journey to find fulfillment in this life… We’re cut from the same cloth, we live for the violence… And I've found something outside of that violence, something to live for” She extended a hand. Gesturing to him “There’s a chance you can find that too. Even if it all circles back around to us fighting… I’d relish the opportunity to have someone who can stand up to my level. Even if it was for a friendly spar” She smiled. A genuine friendly smile “Would you be willing to find that fulfillment if given the chance?” “Or” She gestured back to her sword “Would you prefer to end this now. At the edge of creation, where wills are made manifest. A clash of our very desires” A smile curled on the edges of her lips “Not the will to live. Not the will to deliver justice… A primal desire to kill, for the sake of killing. Not for survival. Not for revenge. Or anger. Or sadness… For fun” The grin was hard to contain “Seeking the pleasures only people like us can seek, the pleasures of flesh only demented souls dream of. No warm body on a lonely night could amount to what this would give us… And it’ll be gone again after, forever unattainable to us. As the victor is drenched in the blood of the only person to ever give them life. The deep knowledge that this was the last time they could feel truly alive, and fulfilled…” A silence fell over her, like she already knew the answer zenos would give

[mintmatcha]

i unironically think Zeke is attractive. it's his attitude and personality, as vile as he can get sometimes, that really keeps me hooked. i don't know what it is. i think it's a culmination of things.

also his sub voice actor also voices Dio from JJBA and i've always thought his voice was sex appeal distilled into a single sound so 👀 voice kink for Zeke? perhaps.

anyway all this to say i want an arranged marriage with Zeke. Modern AU, Historical AU? i don't care. i want an Enemies to Lovers arranged marriage with Zeke. i want Reader to initially hate his stupid attitude and dumb smugness. i want his sarcasm to be biting and grating. i want it all to culminate into the night you guys finally consummate the marriage and you realize how wet all of it makes you - and of course he's an ass about it.

and then it all goes downhill (read: you guys start to get along and gradually open up to one another) from there.

i don't need another WIP but fuck i love hate this asshole so much, i think a relationship with him would be so interesting to explore. no one's gonna read it cause it's Zeke but i'd dedicate it to you lmao

im currently reading the song of Achilles so I'm really partial to a historical au fhdhbdfh

turning your nose up at him as a suitor-- and thats what gathers his attention- and his fathers.

"Do you know why my father pursued you as my bride, despite your rejection?"

Zeke stands on the other side of the balcony, gently cleaning the thick lenses of his glasses. A guard stands in the room behind you, watching with a placid look; privacy will be slim until your marriage is official, to ensure you aren't 'sullied' before the union.

This thought alone makes your lip curl.

"I assume the dowry was a hefty motivation." you reply.

"The dowry is nothing to him." Zeke sighs, heavy and exasperated. "He chose you because of your distain."

"Your own father wants you miserable? How tragic."

"He said only a smart woman would turn me down." annoyance builds in his tone, "And a smart woman is the only person who could handle being my bride."

You take a step forward, closing the gap just enough to set the guard on edge.

"I wish the gods had made me stupid then."

[ma1less]

✾ •°* •°* •°* :::::::::::................  Fear of the Unknown, a WIP story ✾ •°* •°* •°* :::::::::::................ 

(owo the divider looks so pwetty)

Hi. I think it's better now than never to make something about my story, Fear of the Unknown.

Before I really say much about FotU, lemme tell you what it's about. Cuz, you know, it's what I gotta do as a story writer.

✾ •°* •°* •°* :::::::::::................  Synopsis-ish ✾ •°* •°* •°* :::::::::::................ 

After a moon of suspension, Lenard Hartmann finds himself caught in a club, or rather a department, he had never dreamed of signing up for: The Drama Department! With his timidness and his inability to speak up for himself, it's still a wonder why he was admitted in the first place.

With the help of Anastasia "Annie" Cunnings, a simple volunteer for the student council who transferred just last moon, Lenard began to understand just who he was and what kind of elf he should become with the support of his newfound friends. And only Crater knows how much he needed that support right now.

However, everything starts to spiral down during Lenard's little time within the Drama Department. Why was he put into it in the first place? Why did he go berserk last moon despite being so quiet and friendly? Why is he always going out of character when he's not acting?

And why, in the vast universe of Similia, is it always pointing back to Anastasia Cunnings?

✾ •°* •°* •°* :::::::::::................

The thing is kinda old but that's basically what the story is about -- just a little elf boy who needs the support and love of others. And someone pulling the strings behind the scenes.

And this entire thing is old too. 3 years old. This upcoming March will be the third anniversary of the creation of FotU...

...and I'm still at the damn beginning arc...!!!

*sigh* It's just because I couldn't make up my mind...

So a little history about the story since this is my first WIP post about FotU:

It was meant to be a Gacha Club series.

Yeah...

Gacha Club...

I'm a visualist. I love seeing stories come to life, whether that be through illustrations and animations or vocal and audio production. I just love to feel it.

And you can't do that through just words alone.

So that's why, even if I don't have any proper knowledge about animation and running a full-scale project, at least my story can come to life somehow!

Somehow...

Somehow...

In the end, I couldn't even make a Gacha series. Not because I didn't know how (I knew the basics thanks to a different community I shall not name cuz I despise it to its core) but because the community...

...the Gacha community itself is...

I've been in the community for a long time (almost 10 years now) and a lot of negativity is spread throughout it. I mean, every community can't escape the drama, but everything I saw was just negativity after negativity and I just couldn't stand it.

(I have enough low self-esteem with my art skills already. Imagine if I made a series and it flopped or it wasn't up to the community's nonexistent standards or anti-Gacha people just tell me to draw it instead...)

So that put me to a halt. What made me drift away was just because I felt restricted with my creativity.

Specific outfits I want for my characters doesn't exist, the angles I want for the series is restricted to a 3/4 right-looking angle (and just a mirror of it instead of an actual left-looking 3/4 angle but I don't count it), and there aren't enough props to create your own custom/interactive background.

So I decided, even with all this low self-esteem I had with my art, why not I just make it into a comic? It'll be awesome to read, my creativity isn't restricted, and it helps me visualize my story better! All I have to do is draw!

Draw...

I have to draw...?

I haven't even developed an art style I can plateau on and I'm telling myself to make a comic???

*sigh*

Obviously that didn't go well... I can't even make a background without overthinking it, what makes me think I can make a comic? Jeez... Such high expectations for myself, huh?

So I opted out of that right away.

But if I don't wanna be shamed for using Gacha, and I can't draw for the life of me, what the hell should I even do?

Novel.

I've written plenty of stories in novel form before. Surely it'll be easy!

Except... since the story started off as a visual story, meaning a visual aide is kinda needed, writing it into novel format is extremely hard...

Oh, I know! Make it into a light novel! It's a Japanese niche of books that feature anime art in their novels as a visual aide. I can certainly do something like that!

Am I forgetting something...?

Oh, right!

I can't draw.

So... novel...?

Nah, I'm going back to its roots and making it into a Gacha series!

Someone slap me in the face now cuz this is the reason why the story is taking 3 years to make and it's still in the beginning stage!

In the end, due to some personal issues, I decided to make it into a novel with no visuals. I just have to learn from my roots and write how I used to write when I was just a child.

Which is extremely difficult.

Better than nothing, I guess. At least I have a word count goal! Kind of...

(Don't tell anyone but I'm 2K words behind on my goal today;;;;)

My plans for the story is to get it self-published. Obviously, writer being a writer, I got distracted and ended up researching how self-publishing works, got even more distracted and caught up with another indecision, there's a bird, and forgot to write.

Yeah... Needless to say, I kinda got demotivated.

Kinda.

I mean, I've been writing ever since I was ten, and I haven't quit after writing over fifteen stories. Well, story ideas, since I never finished any of them and also got even more -- there's another bird.

Okay, it's gone. Now what was I saying...?

(Seriously, tho, I really got distracted with the bird cuz I put it on my Redbubble as a design lmfao)

But aside from self-publishing, FotU has two books. The first book, I'm writing, and then the sequel, which is planned. To be fair, the entire story is planned. All I need to do is write it.

Plotters, anyone?

Well, I shouldn't say that cuz I didn't exactly plot-plot a lot-lot. I just did the basic beginning, rising, climax, falling, resolution thing with a bit of notes of some good ideas I can fit in. Otherwise, I'm a plantser with more plot.

No, not that plot.

Can the anime titties please get out of my face? Thank you.

The first book, I named it as Fear of the Unknown: Project Action and the second as Fear of the Unknown: Mission Survive. I won't spill too much about book 2 since it'll spoil book 1. Let's just say that joining the Drama Department was the least of Lenard's worries.

Oh, right, I also need to talk about "the vast universe of Similia", huh? Well, the thing is, Fear of the Unknown is a series based within a universe I precreated for a story called Rewritten. Well, not exactly a series but more of a saga. It's already been, what, six years?

Just like FotU, Rewritten was made for a Gacha series but more for a Gacha fanfiction of Lunime's game Gacha World. I won't go too much into it since this isn't a Rewritten WIP post. Let's just say that I've plotted everything and need to write it.

Like usual.

But Similia is a universe made up of three galaxies that consists of elves, technicians, and hybrids. The similiens we'll be following for FotU will be based around elves!

I'll go more into the world in another post. Seeing how long this one is getting, I should be wrapping things up and finally be writing my story.

I know this post might be all over the place but I'm glad I made something for FotU. I'm not a person who updates her stories out of fear of... the... unknown...

That was not intended...

I just have difficulties trusting the internet after one of my stories was called a rip off of someone else's, and I ended up getting cyberbullied cuz of how defensive I was getting.

Hey, I'm very stubborn when it comes to my stories. If someone assumes something like that again, I'm still gonna end up repeating my mistake.

I mean, if you spent over a year or two creating and perfecting your story and you finally just made a synopsis of it only to have someone assume it was a rip off of someone else's story, wouldn't you get pissed off too? After the countless updates I put up, someone assumes it to be something I never made in the first place?

Now imagine if, after putting my synopsis out there for FotU, someone assumes the same bull again.

One year of work, I just got defensive. Three years, I'll go berserk. Rewritten with six years+? Hmm... Let's not get to that point, shall we?

Anyways, enough dwelling on the past. I gotta end things now so see ya later. Maybe.

(Don't know what it'll be about unless someone's curious about something specific since I only scratched the surface)