#of course chapter 1 and 2 will be linked to that later

[hungnitan]

CODE GEASS LOST STORIES CHAPTER 2 STORY SUMMARY (COMPLETE)

As the story itself nearly same as Code Geass anime, I only write the different scene than anime from other character PoV (it include other franchise but never get animated)

all "status" below are finished and chapter 3 will continue on other post. Chapter 1 and 1.5 can be seen from here

Schnee and Red

Character from Code Geass : Lancelot and Guren manga, those two served KoR Suzaku under Schneizel's order. In chapter 2 what they're doing mostly support Suzaku on battlefield. Their last scene is joined Second Tokyo Settlement war

Status : Alive but nothing heard after he cut his loyalty on Suzaku after FLEIJA explosion since he was thought Suzaku is a man of integrity + FLEIJA killed Red (Schnee) & Die in FLEIJA explosion while searching info on Suzaku (Red)

Benio & Savitri

Same Lancelot and Guren manga, Benio served under Kallen's zero squad, she contribute a lot at China Federation war with her new KMF. Savitri work under Lakhsata and friend of Benio, she's the one keep in check on Benio and Disel's KMF so yeah those three always had some small convo when meets.

After assault (genoside) at Geass Cult, witnessing the incident and having withdraw order from Kinoshita, Benio resolve wavered and want to talk about that incident to Savitri eventhough it should be a secret to others. They noticed by Rolo and almost get killed if Lelouch isn't come. So to save them (as he won't let Shirley incident happen again), he decided to make them forget all about Black Knight by putting geass on them

In chapter 15, it shows Benio guide someone (Guilford) to Cornelia hospital room

Status : Alive but can't remember anything being Black Knight member and live as normal commoner at Horai island (Benio) and back to her loner Black Knight enginner (Savitri)

Sapphire

Original character from Lost Stories, leader of Blue Barons, groups who hunt Black Knight at chapter 1.5. As she failed capture Black Knight, she resigned herself from Blue Barons and work under her close friend, Guilford. She mostly appear anywhere Guilford there (as his personal mental support maybe lol) but after keep meets a mysterious knightmare at every war and kill anyone on sight (Kali), she focused on searching the pilot and found the culpit along with kidnapped Disel (that's Tokyo Settlement war time)

While around Area 11 last battle, she and Claudio keep arranging things in Tokyo settlement and receive a letter from Disel. It written about Joanna (Kali secretary) location but when they go there, she's already dead by suicide.

Status : alive and good, after saving Disel she's helping administration after Tokyo Settlement war and still same

Claudio

Yeah, you're not read this wrong (lol) this man have more role on Lost Stories. At chapter 1, he helped Disel entered Britannian military while different than anime version, at chapter 2 he joined Sapphire on mysterious knightmare hunting

Status : Same as Sapphire

Marrybell mel Britannia

Character from Oz the Reflection, leader of Glinda Knight, at chapter 2 she had little appearance and just an aftermath released from her geass. She appear before second Tokyo Settlement war with her knight, Oldrin and Glinda Knight member who want to leave her after things happened at area 24.

Status : Alive and join Emperor Lelouch forces willingly as she's the only one who didn't affected by his geass and her past nearly similar to him.

Oldrin

Marybell former knight, after depart from her, she and Glinda Knight joined under knight of nine Nonette. Her new Glinda Knight contribute in second Tokyo Settlement war by locating and destroy Gefjun distruber there.

Status : Alive, now joining forces with Nonette and other Glinda Knight as Schneizel forces

Disel PoV (include Claris, Kali, Anone)

As anyone read ENG version know, they're joined Black Knight at first only to become Britannian spy later. At chapter 2 part 1, without having any memories erase she cameback to Ashford academy only to be shocked seeing everything there changed. Even Lelouch live happily ever after (lol) with his fake brother Rolo. Knowing something weird, they followed Lelouch and Rolo to Babel Tower, only to meet CC and Kallen & Lelouch memories comeback along with Disel knowing a snipet of geass (they never know it's geass, just a supernatural power)

PS : after that Disel never comeback there, not even once for now...

Knowing Disel still work at army, Lelouch asked them to become his spy again which is the result of Black Knight member jail release a success.

During attack on Nunnally, Disel join the battle as Britannian forces along with Schee Red. At middle of war, usual mysterious knightmare suddenly appear and battling against Disel again which resulting them being MIA.

Using MIA status, they gathered info about that mysterious knightmare and found out it's their aunt, Kali. Hearing her reasons and found out they had a sister yups in the end it's yandere sisterly things lol, they comeback as Black Knight member again to get revenge on her and Britania. They contribute at Chinese Federation war with new knightmare along with Benio.

Disel new knightmare

It's kinda scary how flat Disel emotion here, they didn't show any emotion when hearing Darlton and Shirley died. Darlton basically their senior while they feels pretty close with Shirley (if I remember they just said "oh I see..." wow bro lol)

The mysterious knightmare appear again at Geass Cult war, resulting Disel kidnapped by her. In there, they found their mother body (yups Kali preserve her body...) and know she would do the same to them. So it's Disel vs Kali again with Sapphire Claudio help resulting Kali get arrested and Disel brought to infirmary.

Claris meet them and shocked knowing they still alive. Those two explain their current situation (FLEIJA war and Kali) and tell her that they need to help their friend (Lelouch). Bid their farewell, Claris gave her team knightmare creation Pendulum to her.

Disel help Lelouch Rolo running away from Black Knight after Zero reveal.

After get arrested, unknown how Kali run away and killed 50 military men + Claris

While Lelouch come across with Charles, Disel fight Bismarck Monica on knightmare battle and ended with a stalemate.

When Charles activate geass all over the world, Disel connected with C's world and meet Anone for first time. They noted that Anone looks similar with Hina (girl from Shinjuku Ghetto) and Rina (Disel's sister). She said only using a face they want to see and that place are for not living one which shocked them knowing Rina already gone.

now onto scary part Anone said their family killed by Kali and eat Vaniella (their mother) and Rina's heart yeah literally. So Disel saw the actual scene get traumatized and forgot all about it (really, can't blame them for this...)

It turn out Disel having a survivor guilt and keep blaming themself. So Anone, having Hina Rina memories tells them "it's okay, we're happy having you before dying so don't blame yourself" and finally having a peace

Knowing all that, they decide to make world a better tomorrow for anyone and join forces with Emperor Lelouch.

Right after Disel make their exit from C's world, there's indication Claris could made her appearance on Anone but she refuse (which is indication that she's already dead...)

Not long after Lelouch killed Charles, Disel know Claris situation and vow to get their revenge on Kali. They even mentioned that they will abandon their post if she came searching them.

There's so many small event after emperor Lelouch ascend to before KoR assault. One of them is Suzaku using white Vincent to clean up some rebels since Albion still not done at that time.

Then KoR members became Schneizel subordinate, Nonette is tasked to guard him which explain her group isn't there on KoR battle with Suzaku. Nonette and Glinda knight are stuck between can't agreeing with the way Lelouch dethrone Charles and Schneizel genocide war with fleija so Glinda knight kinda slack off like letting Sayoko get away (lol)

Marybell join Lelouch Britannian forces willingly. Her new costume kinda scary to my liking (royal family + soldier costume) and yeah she still alive for now

And (I'm suprise) Marika is still alive. She's one of four Bradley's knight which swiftly killed by Kallen on Tokyo settlement battle. Now she's joining Nonette's Glinda Knight (if you can't remember her, she's the only one knight getting a lewd card for this game lol)

Oldrin and Glinda Knight save Nunnally and Sayoko from FLEIJA explosion and know FLEIJA threat firsthandly which is the reason they didn't really agreeing on Schneizel ways

Kali join Area 11 last battle as standalone forces.

Kali flashback, telling some useful info like she's ex Britannian knight under Charles main forces and Marianne's friend. After telling her about her sister keep lying to her, Marianne telling her Charles immortal plan and the world without any lies then ask her to join their causes. After Marianne died, she move around area 11 as Charles personal unit to find ancient relics for their plan. The reasons she kill Vaniella and Rina is it doesn't matter if the immortal world plan came true (same like Charles Marianne)

Disel vs Kali. In the end Disel kill her, opened her hatch then shoot her with gun (feels like Roze anime style). After Lelouch announce his victory, Disel suddenly gone and last part closed with Disel comeback to school.

In the end of credits, there's kind of an afterlife scene with CC voices. I think it telling about the possibility Lelouch of Ressurection movie later.

Status : Disel won against Kali in one on one battle (Disel & Kali) Dead (Claris)

PS : If anyone asked me how I, someone live outside Japan know Oz Reflection and Lancelot Guren manga stories, the answer is Code Geass Wiki (lol) ! They're pretty up to date, even they're already covering some part of lost stories and roze anime too~

I kinda like Roze anime but the conclusion feels too forced to me. Too bad they killed Ash, that scene indirectly tells there's something can't be avoided even with "live" geass but it doesn't feels right to compare Ash with Suzaku. In first place their KMF spec already different (lol)

And there's info ENG version will close for good at Aug 28 so yeah my bad on them. ENG players won't taste damocles KMF 42 cost~

(And me too since I don't read any event stories on JP)

My conclusion : Most new character insert are good here but Kali join force with Charles gimmick feels too forced for me and in the end we never knew anything about Joanna.

[hivemuthur]

The Game of Teaching Body - Ch. 1.

viktorxfemale!reader mature! (for now, I will mark later chapters as explicit when the time comes)

AU university, AU modern era, slow burn, frenemies to lovers, teasing, pinning, banter, eventual romance and therefore smut, Viktor is simultaneously a menace and needs a hug, TA Viktor

Ch. 2. | Ch.3. | Ch.4. | Ch.5. | Ch.6. | Ch.7. | Ch.8. | Ch.9. | Ch.10. | Ch.11. | Ch.12.

word count: 4,3K

tag: #the game of teaching body

summary: Reader is a second-year science student that had just switched schools to escape the suffocating love of her parents and Viktor is being a black cat all the way through. A 12-chapter story of two emotionally problematic people falling in love through acknowledging each other's imperfections.

author's note: This is less introspective than my other fics, attempts to be lighter and funny at times. World is completely made up, even though contains some real things in it. Viktor's disability is present, but decreased (no back brace and breathing affliction). I will soon create fic masterlist and pin it on my blog and will be linking chapters with future updates.

Cross-posted on AO3 + POV3rd Person Version

—

You sat wedged between a hot, doe-eyed girl named Sue who was going to be your roommate, and some skinny guy whose name you hadn’t caught—Callum, maybe? Your friend Hale had ditched you to join his theatre group on the other side of the campus, leaving you to navigate introductions with your new course mates alone. Changing universities mid-degree was stressful, but staying back in Sheffield with your parents had been worse. So, yes, it had been the right call. A very good call, you reminded yourself.

Camden had a tiny science department with a handful of brilliant professors. It wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t Sheffield. And it had Hale, who had convinced you to come down south with promises of freedom, self-discovery, and the chance to reclaim your status as the unstoppable friend power-couple you’d been in high school (not that you had mattered at all back then, of course).

The room buzzed with overlapping conversations and sporadic bursts of laughter, the faint thrum of inoffensive pop music humming from a Bluetooth speaker in the corner. The second-year welcome party was more like a casual gathering, hosted in one of the university lounges with just enough couches and harsh fluorescent lighting to feel awkwardly cozy. You sipped from a plastic cup of lukewarm cider, your attention flitting between three different conversations happening around you.

To your left, Jayce was in the middle of an animated retelling of how he’d nearly blown up a lab during his undergrad years. His booming laugh and sweeping hand gestures kept everyone engaged, even those who had only half-heard the setup to his punchline. You found yourself smiling despite having missed most of the story. You vaguely recalled his introduction earlier in the evening—Jayce, one of the TAs for your course this year. From Sheffield, like you. Big personality, bigger grin.

On your right stood Viktor, the second TA, his hands resting lightly on his cane. He exuded a quieter kind of presence, his sharp amber eyes scanning the group with an air of detached curiosity. He’d joined the circle mid-conversation, offering the occasional dry comment that earned chuckles from those paying attention.

“You’re training to be a geneticist?” Viktor asked, leaning slightly toward you. His accent caught you off guard—it was Slavic, you thought, though you weren’t confident enough to guess further. You made a mental note to ask him about it one day.

You blinked, surprised to be addressed. “Oh, yeah,” you replied quickly, nodding. “Second year. Still deciding whether I want to focus on medical or research applications, though.” You paused. “You’re in bioengineering for your PhD, right?”

“Correct,” Viktor said with a slight upward quirk of his lips. “It is refreshing to meet someone undecided. Most claim they will change the world before finishing their first term.”

You laughed nervously, unsure if he was mocking you or just making an observation. “Yeah, I’m saving that for third year.”

Viktor raised an eyebrow, his expression hovering somewhere between amused and sceptical. “Ambitious,” he said dryly.

Before you could respond, Jayce turned toward you, pulling the group’s focus with him. “What about you? Have you had Professor Albin yet? He’s a character, let me tell you. Loves his experiments more than his students.”

You grinned, drawn into the shift in energy. “Oh, yeah, I’ve heard about him. But wait, is he the one who smokes under the laboratory fume hood?”

Jayce snapped his fingers in mock recognition. “Exactly! Last year, he almost caused the whole building to evacuate because he didn’t realise the hood was broken.”

The group erupted into laughter. You found yourself relaxing, leaning into the easy rhythm of the conversation. You missed the glance Viktor cast your way, faintly bemused.

He cleared his throat, a subtle gesture that drew only a few eyes. “Albin may be forgetful, but he has published groundbreaking work on single-cell RNA sequencing. One might forgive the eccentricities, no?”

The remark hung in the air for a beat, slightly out of sync with the conversation’s playful tone. Jayce, quick to keep the mood light, grinned and waved it off. “True, but it doesn’t make his lectures any less painful.”

The laughter resumed, bubbling back up with ease. You smiled, but something about Viktor’s expression lingered in your mind—a subtle tightness around his mouth, almost imperceptible but impossible to ignore once noticed.

You thought to say something, maybe steer the conversation back toward him, but Jayce was already pulling your attention with another question, his energy impossible to resist. The moment slipped away, and with it, that fleeting glimpse of something unreadable in Viktor’s eyes.

The party dispersed shortly after midnight, and you went to find Hale for the promised cigarette and your earlier-agreed session of impression comparing. You spotted him by the fountain, his tall figure hunched over in his velvet vest, already smoking.

“My darling!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms wide in a theatrical flourish. “So, spill the tea—how was it? Anyone hot? Anyone you already hate? Good decision? Bad decision?”

“Uh… Can I bum a fag? I forgot my pack in the room.” You patted your pockets distractedly as Hale swept you into his arms, spinning you around dramatically. He placed his own cigarette between your lips with a flourish.

“I’m going to burst if you don’t tell me right now. Your mother already hates me—I need to know you don’t hate me too!”

“Joanne is going to be fine,” you replied, rolling your eyes but letting yourself be twirled in your exaggerated tango. “She already sent me, like, a thousand affirmations for my ‘new beginnings.’”

Hale dipped you low, grinning. “And?”

“I… don’t know,” you sighed as he held you in the dramatic pose. “It’s a bunch of nerds, like me, so I guess I’ll be alright.”

Hale gave you a pointed look, his brow furrowing. “You are not just some nerd. You are brilliant, and they are not ready for you.” He placed a soft kiss on your forehead, his voice gentle but firm.

“Alright, alright,” you muttered, waving him off with a small smile. “Full report is as follows: Sue, my roommate—hot and completely oblivious about it. Nobody else really standing out. It’s an even mix of guys and girls.” You started pacing along the edge of the fountain, ticking details off on your fingers. “We’ve got two TAs: one would make you drool, and the other one would make you run for your life.”

“I have to meet them both,” Hale declared with a dramatic flourish, grinning mischievously.

Hale twirled you one last time before pulling you upright with exaggerated care. “You’re lucky I’m such a gracious dance partner, darling,” he said, letting you go with a flourishing bow.

You laughed and brushed your hair out of your face. “Oh, you’re too kind. I didn’t know you’d start your evening in full drama mode.”

Hale smirked, looping his arm through yours as you strolled around the fountain. The air was crisp, the faint glow of the nearby building lights reflecting off the water. “I’m always in drama mode. You know this. Now, tell me—what’s the plan tomorrow? More parties? Some secret nerd ritual?”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him with your shoulder. “Yes, we are totally raising someone from the dead tomorrow,” you smirked. “The TAs are swinging by each room tomorrow to hand out schedules and do a quick orientation. Viktor mentioned it tonight in passing.”

Hale gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “Viktor, you say? Is that the one who would make me drool or the one who’d send me running for my life?”

You laughed. “The latter. He’s got this whole ‘intimidating genius’ vibe going on, but I can’t tell if he’s just really smart or if he practices those broody stares in the mirror.”

“Oh, I have to meet this man,” Hale said with a gleam in his eye, spinning you around. “And what about the one who’d make me drool?”

“That’s Jayce,” you replied. “Big, loud, charming. Like a golden retriever who also happens to be jacked and into science.”

Hale pretended to swoon, leaning on you for support. “Be still, my heart. This place might actually be worth sticking around for.”

You smirked, brushing ash off your borrowed cigarette. “Speaking of sticking around, how was your night? Any tragic love stories waiting to happen?”

Hale shrugged nonchalantly, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Same old faces, same old dramas. Nothing new. Nobody around here who could really crush my heart, but you know me—I’ll eat anything when I’m starved.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “That’s the spirit. Settle for mediocrity!”

“It’s a survival skill, darling,” Hale replied, grinning as he plucked the cigarette from your fingers and took a long drag.

You walked in silence for a moment, your steps slow and unhurried. You glanced at the fountain, its gentle ripples catching the light, and exhaled a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

“I think it was a good decision,” you said softly, breaking the quiet.

Hale raised an eyebrow, handing the cigarette back to you. “Camden? Or letting me drag you here tonight?”

“Both,” you admitted, a small smile playing at your lips. “Thanks for making me come. For once, I actually feel… scared of something. Not stuck.”

Hale’s expression softened, and he threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “That’s because you’re brilliant, and the world doesn’t stand a chance against you.”

You rolled your eyes but leaned into the gesture, taking one last drag of the cigarette before flicking it into the fountain.

“Here’s to not being stuck,” Hale declared, lifting an imaginary glass.

“To not being stuck,” you echoed, laughing as the two of you turned and headed back toward the dorms.

***

The sound that woke you and Sue was impossible to describe—a cacophony of metal being violently banged together, accompanied by a high-pitched whining noise. Then came loud banging on the door.

A soft groan came from Sue’s bed as she rolled out, stretching her limbs before sinking onto the floor and curling into a foetal position. “I think it’s the TAs,” she said weakly, yawning.

You decided to be brave, though your first instinct was to shove a pillow over your head and wait for the monster to go away. Dragging yourself out of bed, your head pounding from the cider and cigarettes you’d had with Hale the night before, you trudged to the door. Your expression was one of pure pleading as you opened it and asked, “Is this really how you guys want to start this relationship?”

In front of you, Jayce froze mid-motion, one frying pan held in each hand. Viktor stood just behind him, clutching a bicycle horn and smirking mercilessly.

“Good morning, sunshine!” Jayce boomed, lowering the frying pans slightly but keeping his grin firmly in place, like a weapon. “Ready to seize the day?”

You squinted, shielding your eyes from the hallway light as though it were a personal attack. “Seize the day? I’m about to seize your frying pans and toss them out the window.”

Jayce laughed, completely unbothered, while Viktor raised the bicycle horn and gave it a sharp honk. “Consider it your wake-up call,” Viktor said smoothly, his smirk deepening. “Promptness is a virtue, no?”

“I’m promptly considering murder,” you muttered, glaring at them both.

Behind you, Sue groaned from her spot on the floor. “I’m not coming out. Tell them I’m dead.”

Jayce leaned sideways to peer into the room. “Good morning to you too, Sue!” he called cheerfully.

“Sod off,” Sue replied, her voice muffled by her arm.

Viktor glanced at Jayce, shaking his head slightly as though disapproving of his partner’s antics. Then he turned his attention back to you. “We are here to distribute schedules and perform a brief orientation,” he said, his tone more measured but no less smug. “You should be grateful. Only the science department students receive such... personal service.”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, I feel so special. Is banging cookware a requirement of this personal service, or is it just a special treat for us?”

“Just for you,” Jayce said with a wink. “And hey, it worked, didn’t it? You’re awake.”

You sighed, stepping back to let them into the room. “Fine. Come in. But if you touch anything, I’m calling security.”

Jayce sauntered in like he owned the place, plopping the frying pans onto the desk with a loud clang. Viktor followed more quietly, his eyes sweeping the room in a quick, assessing glance. He placed the bicycle horn next to the pans, the absurdity of the scene making you shake your head in disbelief.

“You’re like two chaotic sitcom characters,” you said, rubbing your temples. “And I’m the poor, sleep-deprived protagonist who has to deal with your nonsense.”

Jayce grinned. “I like to think of myself as the lovable goofball.”

“And Viktor’s the straight man?” you guessed, glancing at him.

Viktor’s lips twitched, but he didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he handed you a neatly folded piece of paper. “Your schedule,” he said. “I trust you can manage to read it despite your current... condition.” He gave you a once-over and added, “Nice pyjamas.”

You looked down at yourself, remembering too late that you were wearing red cotton pants with white hearts and an oversized Nirvana sweatshirt. It was a damn nice set of pyjamas—what was the problem? You snatched the paper from him, your mouth twitching into a reluctant smile despite yourself. “Thanks. I’ll try not to faint from gratitude.”

“Much appreciated,” Viktor replied dryly.

Sue, still sprawled on the floor, finally raised her head and groaned. “Do we at least get coffee with this torture?”

Jayce perked up. “Now that’s an idea! Viktor, we should’ve brought coffee.”

“I am not your barista,” Viktor deadpanned.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the morning starting to chip away at your hangover. “Alright, alright. Give us five minutes, and we’ll join the rest of the poor souls you’ve terrorized this morning.”

“Make it three,” Viktor said, his smirk returning as he turned toward the door.

Jayce followed with a wave. “See you downstairs!”

As the door closed behind them, you turned to Sue, who was now sitting up, her hair a wild mess.

“So,” you said, leaning against the door. “Drool-worthy or run-for-your-life?”

Sue blinked, still half-asleep. “What?”

“The TAs,” you clarified, holding back a grin. “Jayce and Viktor. What’s the verdict?”

Sue rubbed her eyes, yawning. “Jayce is like a golden retriever on caffeine. Viktor... is something else. Sharp. Kinda scary. But, like, in a hot way?”

You snorted, tossing the schedule onto your desk. “I’m just trying to survive their weird buddy cop energy.”

Sue flopped back onto the floor with a groan. “Wake me up when it’s over.”

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “It’s never over, Sue. Welcome to Camden.”

***

Orientation and the first classes passed in a blur of introductions, schedules, and information overload. By the time the fifth person introduced themselves, you’d already forgotten the first three names. Professor Heimerdinger, perched at the front of the lab like an animated encyclopaedia, launched into an overview of the semester: rules for grades and exams, expectations for in-class behaviour, and a note about optional after-class activities for the particularly ambitious—or masochistic.

You braced yourself for the inevitable repeat classes like chemistry and biophysics, but it didn’t bother you. Repetition wasn’t so bad if you could zone out without missing much.

Jayce and Viktor drifted through the room during the lecture, their presence oddly complementary—one buzzing with boundless energy, the other moving with deliberate precision. They pointed out key locations: lab glass, gloves, coats, goggles, and the cabinets you’d definitely forget the moment you walked out. They handed out maps of the department and listed their office hours. Standard procedure. Functional. Dandy.

When it was finally over, Sue nudged you, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Wanna head to the bar nearby?”

“You want to drink again?” You raised an eyebrow, though her expression hinted at ulterior motives.

Sue tilted her head, all innocence. “Or… maybe I want to go to the bar to spy on our TAs,” she said, her gaze trailing after Jayce and Viktor as they left the room.

You sighed, exasperated but amused. “By my calculations, we have about a week to live before we’re buried in coursework.”

“Exactly! We should enjoy it while it lasts.” Sue clasped her hands together and unleashed the puppy eyes. “Please?” she added, her lower lip quivering with Oscar-worthy conviction.

You rolled your eyes, defeated. “I am genuinely terrified of you. And convinced I’ll never be able to say no to you. Fine. One condition: I get to drag Hale along.”

“Is Hale your hot theatre friend?” Sue’s excitement was palpable, her grin wide enough to make you laugh.

“Yes, and he’s also gay, so don’t get your hopes up. He’ll break your heart,” you warned, pulling out your phone to text him.

“I am desperate for a gay boyfriend, so please drag him along whenever you feel like it,” Sue replied, already on her feet, coat slung over her arm.

Your phone buzzed almost instantly: I know the place – seedy shithole. Be there in no time! Hale’s response sealed the deal. You were officially going to a bar to “spy” on your TAs.

The bar was, indeed, a seedy shithole, but it had a quirky charm. Posters plastered the walls, advertising plays, gigs, and questionable student endeavours. Lamps made of beer bottles cast a dim, golden light, and the furniture was an eclectic mix—like someone had raided every grandmother’s attic in a three-mile radius. A fireplace crackled in one corner, surrounded by mismatched cushions for floor seating, and a jukebox stood proudly by the bar, humming with potential.

You approached the bar with Sue, scanning the menu. Sue’s brows furrowed in confusion as she searched for something that wasn’t beer. The bartender, a man with a weathered face and a disarming smile, leaned in. “What can I do for you, honey?”

Sue’s voice turned soft and sweet, almost like a fairy casting a spell. “Do you have anything… sweet?”

The bartender paused, giving her a look like he’d climb mountains to fetch whatever she wanted. For a moment, you wondered if he might actually run to another bar, buy something sugary, and bring it back. The thought made you chuckle as you watched Sue charm her way to a perfect drink.

“Let me surprise you,” the bartender said, flashing Sue a sweet smile before turning to you. “And for you, darling?”

“I’ll just have a pint, cheers,” you replied, your gaze lingering on the heartwarming interaction between the adorable Sue and the massive, tattooed bartender.

“Ah! Let me get this,” you registered an arm sliding between you and Sue, holding a credit card. “Since we forgot the coffees this morning,” Jayce’s familiar grin soon followed, putting a face to the offering hand.

“I’ll be the one buying drinks for my pookie today,” a strong arm wrapped around your neck and shoulders, and you immediately recognized Hale’s voice from above you. “Let me guess… drool-worthy and”—his eyes shifted toward Viktor—“run-for-your-life?”

“I’ve also been called ‘the straight man,’” Viktor remarked, giving you a questioning look.

“Ah, I can see why,” Hale replied, on the verge of ruining your chances for any semblance of dignity this semester. Then he turned to Sue. “And you must be the hot Sue?”

“Oh my god, did you say that?” Sue squeaked playfully, leaning over to grab your hand. “I think you’re hot too,” she added with a wink.

You wanted to sink deep underground and let the demons of hell swallow you whole.

Waiting for your drink to be poured, you watched Jayce, Sue, and Hale drift toward the fireplace sitting area, Hale’s arm already wrapped around your roommate as they chatted animatedly.

“You seem to have a lot of opinions already formed,” Viktor’s voice came from above your shoulder as he reached for his drink—a vodka on the rocks.

“Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll indeed run for my life,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Viktor raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Is that so?” His tone was smooth, with just a hint of challenge.

“Absolutely,” you replied, leaning in slightly with mock seriousness. “You’re giving off dangerous, 'I’ve got a sarcastic comment for everything' vibes. It's a threat.”

Viktor chuckled, the sound warm and surprisingly disarming. “A threat, huh? I’ll have to be careful then.” He took a sip of his drink, his eyes glinting. “Don’t worry. I won’t bite.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile forming at the edge of your mouth. “I wasn’t worried.”

For a moment, you both stood there, the noise of the bar buzzing around you. Viktor’s gaze lingered a moment too long, making you feel slightly off balance. Then, with a casual shrug, he turned back to the group by the fireplace.

“Let’s go join the chaos,” he said nonchalantly, throwing you a brief glance over his shoulder as he walked away.

You followed, still trying to shake the unexpected buzz of the encounter. It was weird how Viktor could throw you off without even trying.

By the time you approached the group, Hale had already charmed Jayce and Sue, effortlessly pulling them into his world with animated tales of his theatre exploits. He gestured enthusiastically, his voice rich with excitement. “So, we’re doing Rocky Horror Picture Show this year for the mid-semester final,” he announced, his theatrical tone drawing everyone in. “We’re looking for actors—are any of you up for it?”

Sue, looking both intrigued and a little unsure, glanced over at Jayce, who was already grinning. “I’m afraid that my singing would have you fail the final, Hale,” Jayce said with a laugh, clearly weighing the possibilities. “I will gladly come and watch, though?”

Hale grinned wider. “I’ll put you in the front row! And Y/N’s been trying to convince me to take on Frank N. Furter’s part, which made me think she’d make a killer Janet.”

At that, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, your playful tone cutting through the banter. “Only if I can play Magenta,” you said, tossing your head back slightly. “Otherwise, it's a no-go.”

The group chuckled, but Jayce, who had been half-listening as they continued talking, suddenly perked up. “Wait, hold on. Are you both actually from Sheffield?” He leaned forward slightly, clearly curious.

You smirked, folding your arms across your chest and leaning in, dropping the playful façade for a second. “I don’t have my Pulp T-shirt on me today,” you quipped, “but I can show you my ID?”

Raising an eyebrow, you knew full well that a bit of playful sarcasm could spark a reaction. Viktor, standing just a few steps behind, glanced over at you as your words hit the air. His eyes flicked between you and Jayce, his attention sharpened but still calm, like he was quietly enjoying your back-and-forth with the others.

Jayce laughed, shaking his head. “You really are from Sheffield, aren’t you?”

“Born and bred,” you shot back with a grin, your hands slipping into your pockets. “Don’t let the accent fool you.”

Viktor took a small sip of his drink, a glimmer of amusement flickering in his gaze as he continued to watch you. You had a way of carrying yourself—like you knew how to hold your ground, even when teasing. And now that you had mentioned it, there was a non-Sheffield accent lingering underneath your words.

“Eh, it’s not a place for stars like us,” Hale mused, giving your thigh a playful squeeze.

“My darling, brilliant man, you know all I wish for you is to never step foot in that shithole again and rise to stardom so fast the bystanders get their eyes burned,” you replied with a dramatic flourish, your grin wide and teasing.

Jayce laughed, raising his beer. “Well, before anyone dies burned by Hale’s halo, I guess we could all drag along back for Christmas together?”

“Jayce, if there is anything to drag by then, be my guest,” you responded with a quiet clank of your glass against Jayce’s.

“Oh yes, Christmas is a must. I have to bring a peace offering to Y/N’s mother for stealing her precious daughter away from the family nest,” Hale said, making an exaggerated frightened face when mentioning your mum, Joanne.

“Hale, repeat after me: Joanne is going to be fine. It’s about time she grows up.”

***

Jayce and Viktor walked down the dimly lit street, the buzz of the bar still echoing in their steps. The night air was cool, and the muffled sounds of laughter and music faded behind them as they made their way back to the dorms.

“I love freshmen,” Jayce said, a grin tugging at his lips.

Viktor shot him a sidelong glance. “That’s disturbing.”

“Come on, they’re cute.” Jayce shrugged; his tone playful. “Good idea with the morning orchestra, by the way. Got them all riled up.”

Viktor’s lips twitched at the memory. “The girls sure have their eyes on you.” He looked at Jayce, raising an eyebrow. “You planning on visiting Y/N’s family for Christmas already?”

Jayce laughed. “I don’t know, man. I have a feeling her eyes are actually on you.”

Viktor paused mid-step, narrowing his eyes. “She literally called me 'the straight man' and the 'run-for-your-life-one.' I highly doubt it.”

Jayce nudged him with his elbow. “You know nothing about girls, Viktor.” Viktor gave him a sceptical look, but Jayce’s grin only grew wider, and for once, Viktor couldn't help but wonder if Jayce was right.

[drunk-person]

THE GOSSIP - Modern Au

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x cousin!reader

Summary: One of the most talked about gossips among the lower class servants in Kings Landing is the fact (or not) that Aemond Targaryen got involved with his cousin Y/n Targaryen when they were both teenagers. Mainly due to the fact that at the age of 17 she was sent to Old Town overnight. Some employees claim that Aemond was caught between her legs. Some say that, like her father, she had had a horrible fight with her uncle and aunt and was sent away. And other than that none of this happened, she just became interested in the course offered at the Old Town conservatory. But now five years later, Y/n Targaryen is back, and rumors haunt those who favor them.

WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, fingering, Oral Sex, fluff, romance friends to lovers, old money, no description for reader.

Author's note: No accurate update predictions because I need to write, correct, translate and correct again. All this in the middle of a boring adult job. (Adulthood kind of sucks) But I'll do my best to finish it and it won't be a long story. English is not my first language. 💕💕

Pinterest folder

ao3 link

Memes and things

Chapters:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 (news 18/12)

[contamination-zone]

Wild Caught Friends [chapter 2]

chaptors: 1, 2 [here!]

[UTMV FIC] Contains: platonic Fresh & Nightmare, implied cannibalism & violence, toxic relationship, slow-burn friendship/allyship, [2,000~ words]

Nightmare. He was smiling, something smarmy. “Hello, Fresh. Fancy running into you, hmm?” It took another step back, right outside of his range. He definitely knew it would be here; that glint in his eye told it everything it needed to know.

[beta read by @/calamarispider]

Fic under cut! or on AO3

The cold was starting to get to it.

Its host could definitely last for a day or two in the biting cold, but it was beginning to seep far enough into it that its true body was getting affected. Still, it probably had a good hour before it had to skiddaddle to easier hunting grounds. 

Fresh had been waiting in a snowdrift for… some amount of time. [Time was hard to tell in the underground, especially snowdin, and it didn’t have anything tuned to this AU’s speed.] It knew it  had been much longer than it should have. The query of its hunt, the AU’s sans, hadn’t shown his face yet.

It thought it got the schedule correct, the monster always visiting the ruins door during weekdays on his breaks. Maybe it had missed something…

It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, but it still rankled at the thought. No, there had to be more extraneous circumstance dictating the failure of its hunt. Something was going amiss, and causing its meal to run very, very late. 

Crunching snow alerted it of someone coming closer. The footsteps didn’t match its prey’s, so it pressed further into the snowbank. Its coat dampened with the snowmelt, but it was a price it was willing to pay. An ambush predator should be able to deal with sub-optimal conditions to hunt its prey.

They came closer, slowly, the gait tickling some forgotten memory. It couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, which made it raise its guard.

A moment later, the footsteps vanished. That didn’t make any sense, the only monster who could teleport in this AU was Sans and that wasn’t his-

It lurched forward; on all fours for a moment before rising to its full height, movements all hidden behind a plume of its colorful magic. It dispersed the cloud as it turned to the thing that had snuck up behind it. 

Nightmare.

He was smiling, something smarmy. “Hello, Fresh. Fancy running into you, hmm?”

It took another step back, right outside of his range. He definitely knew it would be here; that glint in his eye told it everything it needed to know.

“Course dude,” it flashed him a grin, determined to be a bit more… casual this time. Looking back, it acted rather embarrassing last time they met. “You got business in these parts? ‘Sides seeking out my wonderful company.”

“Hunting different prey, my dear; just passing through, though…” He gave Fresh a once over- which it struck a pose to, of course, “I’d never miss the opportunity to get to know you better.”

“Everyone wants my time broski, I know, I know.” It preened, though kept its gaze locked onto Nightmare. He had a lot to keep its eyes on, creeping appendages making his silhouette large and blurry.

He laughed, his tentacles lashing in gentle arcs as he did so, only serving to make him more confusing to behold [among many other reasons],“I can see why.”

Nightmare seemed, ignoring physical appearances, rather jovial, almost harmless. The sharp glint in his eyes and edge to his voice gave him away though. Along with that, it had done some snooping after their last… encounter. 

A drop by the Omega Timeline and some one-sided conversations [read: eavesdropping] showed that many had been displaced by him and his posse. People held deep scars from him, both physical and mental. 

Described as someone who didn’t hesitate to torture, murder and pillage in any AU he visited; it could fit Nightmare into that description easily.

The other was pretty famous over the multiverse. Something whose effects were sweeping and grand. Looking back, it could link many an empty universe it had dropped by to Nightmare’s own actions. Actions that had affected its life before they even met.

So, someone with both influence and power, all focussed on it in that moment. 

It meant, however, that he had many other obligations to focus on. It could definitely make itself more work than he was willing to dedicate to some side-project- as much as it rankled to call itself such.

But… it wanted to see where this went. Fresh could be a cameo in his story, at least, for a little while.

It took a few steps closer, just within range. Walking a gentle arc around him, it asked, “You see any skeletons, ‘sides us, walk by, any chance?”

“Is that your reason for being here?” 

“One of many.” 

“Well,” he said, like a sigh, like wind through a tree, “I can’t say I have. Though I do think I’d know where to find one.”

“Lead the way then, dude!” It laughed, leaning in close enough to jostle his shoulder.

Narrowed eyes and real anger flashed across Nightmare’s face. A tentacle grabbed its wrist, and it stifled the urge to snarl at him. “Don’t touch me.”

“Awww- do you not like it?”

“I wouldn’t push this.” The tentacles around Nightmare’s own feet, like a halo of shadow framing him, grew spiny like blackberry thorns.

It acquiesced, stopping its teasing, but was certain its amusement was palpable, “Well, if you say so. I guess we could get going…” it gave him the out.

Nightmare grunted some acknowledgement before he took a step closer, tentacles close to winding around its ankles. It kept a close eye on those. Rather hypocritical, considering how he’d reacted to It touching him without permission.

Seemed Nightmare only had a no touching rule if it wasn’t him. Figures.

“With me, pest. I’ll transport us there.”

“Am I not ‘my dear’ any longer?” It let him wind an appendage around its tibia, though flashed him a warning look before he could coil too much more. He already wound tight around its wrist; he was just getting grabby. 

“You’re not acting ‘dear’ enough for that.” Came his response. He felt like a rabbit snare around its leg, though it thought it still could get out. 

The guardian of negativity [and wasn’t that a doozy to find out] didn’t hold it too tightly. Was he trying to get on its good side? It almost laughed at the thought.

The ooze that seemed to pour from his every surface lurched in one disconcerting, coordinated motion, surrounding its entirety. It only lasted for a moment, but it felt as though it was fully submerged in a swamp: dense, cloying mud on all sides, pressing in, cold.

After it retracted, it could see they were in the judgement hall, the grand stained windows letting in swathes of light. If it were not attached to its new… acquaintance, it would have preferred the full body bog experience. It almost felt sleepy.

“Nice ride man.” 

Nightmare gave it a strange look, though he didn’t comment why. “The only skeleton in this AU would be somewhere down here, if I had to guess. The other is dead.”

“Nice, nice,” it acknowledged, and wondered what the other gained from this exchange. He couldn’t only be after some of its radical company, as much as it would like to say he’d want it.

It started walking at a leisurely pace down the hallway; Nightmare fell easily beside it, one step ahead, the arrogant prick.

“I notice you’re in a different body, the one I gave you not to your taste?” An olive branch, albeit one clearly probing for more info on it.

“Nah- it was all good. Jus’ felt like a change of pace; dropped that old thing last month.” It flashed him one of its million dollar smiles, “I keep up with the latest trends, ya dig?”

Looking at its 90’s regalia, he regarded it like it was a particularly stupid animal; it couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from it. It strided up ahead, turning around and walking backwards so it could talk with Nightmare face-to-face.

“C’mon, we’re both fashion forward here, you in your-“ it wriggled its fingers at him, “kingly fit and me in my hip one.”

“Of course,” he drawled, definitely mocking, “five hundred years ago is so… ‘in the moment.’”

“You get me! You get me, dude!”

He was certainly only humoring it, but that was still far more interesting than most. The most common reactions were either people not realizing it was razzing them, or annoyance. Nightmare was interesting, unique; fun.

“You seemed very determined not to let me ‘get you’ the other day; have you changed your mind?”

It blew a raspberry at him, skipping a few more steps back as he made a motion to grab it with one of his tentacles. The grab was clearly telegraphed, easy to dodge; he was trying to get on its good side, or at least seem like less of a threat. 

Interesting; it would have pegged him as the type to flaunt his power at all times. It once more wondered why, exactly, he was so interested in it.

“You want me so bad it makes you look stupid bro!” It almost giggled, the sound only growing louder at how Nightmare glowered in response.

“You flaunt yourself like you want the attention.”

“And if I do?”

“I would say it’d make you an idiot, but you fit that label for more reasons than just that.”

It clutched at its chest, right over where the average skeleton monster’s Soul would be, “you wound this delicate maiden deeply!”

“The only thing delicate about you is your ego, my dear.”

As it was about to dig back at him, a voice distracted it.

“Am I interrupting something here?” The sans of the AU; they’d reached the place he stood. His words were phrased as a question, but there was a shrewd look in his eyes. He knew they shouldn’t be here.

“I suppose this is my queue to leave,” Nightmare hummed.

“Not staying to watch?”

“I’d love to, but alas, I’ve wasted enough time already.” 

Without another word he’d already teleported away. The two remaining skeletons stared at one another.

Fresh summoned its wiffle-bat. Sans was on guard. This would be… difficult. 

That didn’t matter, it was in a good mood.

———

It stretched its arms above its head as it walked down a Hotland street, its new joints popping pleasantly.

The AU really was decimated. Dust was all over, along with leftover bones and magical attacks. Picking out the marks with its eyes, it matched them to the monsters it knew Nightmare dragged along with him. 

Each were unique, and looking at them he could put together a pretty good idea of the damage each monster could dish out. Not the most reliable, of course -some monsters left little to no evidence, or had techniques that only made sense if you saw them yourself- but better than nothing. Any advantage was worth clawing at, in the pursuit of survival.

No magic attacks from Horror, and some left-over bones from Murder. The latter probably had a similar fighting style to most Sans’ if not a bit more erratic, so it didn’t think to pay too much extra attention to them. The former, well, it thinks it could handle someone half-starved and shown to be the most reluctant to enter combat.

Most strikingly, however, were knife marks gouged into a wall [or well, many walls]. It imagined the position he’d be in to leave that marks, the arch his arm would take and where he would be standing as he did it, the range he’d have. Any information, even the aftermath, was to have on this individual.

Killer, Nightmare’s loyal attack dog.

Not a monster it’d want to fight, though it supposed it should still get as much info as it could.

Nightmare was relatively friendly with it, in their limited interactions, but it didn’t doubt that could change at the drop of a hat and he’d not hesitate to send Killer after it.

More reason to get on his good side, but it knew it couldn’t count on the inner workings of anyone besides itself. Even someone who seemed to have a similar view on things.

At least it knew things were going to be interesting in the future.

[sevs-corner]

Tf 141: Mafia AU!

Chapter 2: Jobless? More like Job-bless

A/N: Link to prev ch + mini epilogue of the chap (where it goes to another character’s pov aside from the reader :DD) :

Preface:

After the mess of a morning, you instantly got roped into the orderly chaos of the bakery. Under a contract (a list of chores really) you are now tied to the place Nonna and Nonno calls home.

Although, you soon come to learn that it is the home of other certain individuals as well.

With a groan, you wonder how many things are left on the chore list posted on the to-do board, pinned with all sorts of menus, post-it notes, old recipes, and photos of people you don’t really care to know or recognize; although, you were curious of who that one handsome man was.

Which you kept at the back of your mind to ask Nonna during your break later.

For now, you had to focus up and sort this damn mountain of trash.

You even got scolded by the trash guy for having mixed the recyclables and non-recyclables! You pouted, mumbling that it wasn’t your fault but the old couple who ran this place— yet all he did was wave you off, saying that he’d make an exception and come by tomorrow, ‘as long as the trash is sorted.’

To be honest, you’d rather sort him to the non-recyclables pile.

Rancid- the whole lot of it was! You couldn’t believe it got stocked up until the second floor of the building… but you kinda have to wonder if they threw it from below with an underhand throw or dropped from the room you were currently in.

The latter seems more plausible.

Until you saw Nonna, spin and accurately place another bag on top- winking at your gaping form, knees bent with your elbows resting on it exhaustion.

“Is that nasty sickness gone?” She asks, arms folded on her chest as she leans by the doorway.

“I think I got another type of nasty sickness,” you raised your arms and showed the dirty yellow rubber gloves and apron covered in grime.

She laughs and nods, “well better get to finishin’! Else, you wouldn’t make it to the lunchtime rush.”

“Is that part of the list too?” You asked, stunned, you were very sure that was on there until Nonna waved you in. Pointing at the pin board by the doorway.

You slightly let yourself, making sure none of the guck got in the place you just cleaned. Bending and craning your neck upward, you gasp at how the checklist just became double its size from before, a stapler at both ends of the first one connecting to the next.

You quickly turn your head, tone accusatory- “you added onto it!”

“There’s a lot to do,” she shrugs, “didn’t quite give you the full list.”

She points to the first saying how that was Nonno’s list while the next was made by her. You pouted, finding it unfair- knowing how it wouldn’t be completed in a day, actually more than a week no less!

“How am I supposed to help you guys tomorrow if I can’t find my place today?”

She hums, tapping her chin before snapping her fingers and roughly pinching your puffed out cheeks.

“You stay upstairs with us, of course!”

“WHAT?”

You reflexively scream reacted, falling to your dramatically as your hands catch your upper body before it fell into the door way face first.

“Not a bad deal, right dearie?”

“Rightly so, dear wifey!”

You could hear the old couple tease you (with the old man coming in to see what the racket was that disturbed him from his cooking routine, only to see his wife amusing herself once more with the new kid she “adopted” (nonna’s words not his)) making you feel even more depressed, wondering what made you think it was a good idea in the first place to sign up to this deal.

You wanted info- and they needed a helper. The end.

You should have read the Terms and Conditions really. (The non existent one aka, reading between the lines and the vibe of the couple.)

Alas, you accepted your fate, resigning to it really as you stood up, looking at the list before retuning to the trash area, where the old couples kisses and giggles were still echoing by the back door way. A reality slapping reminder of what you needed to get back to immediately.

Kneeling by the pile you left, you spot a cat- a strangely pristine white one with bright blue eyes. It looked a bit fancy to be wandering around this part so you checked its neck for a collar yet there was none.

Humming to yourself, you called to it softly as you removed your stickily sweat gloves.

The cat, as if heeding your call, comes closers to your whispers of encouragement and ultimately sits before you meowing and nudging its head towards you.

“Aww!” You gleamed, immediately petting it with your finger tips, but melt even more as it long and fluffy tail wrapped around your fingers- as if urging you to continue your pampering.

“You’re such a cutie! Aren’t ‘cha?” You continue cooing at it, and with how immediately comfortably attached the cat was with you- you decided to try and carry it by opening your arms.

The cat crawls pause, sensing your pets has stopped and stares at you.

You stare it back.

Like a lightbulb popping up, the cat meows and stand up, crawling closer and…

“Now who the hell is there?”

You and the cat screech, both jumping in the air.

Although the difference between the two of you was one landed on their ass while the other ran away.

Unceremoniously once again.

You heaved, looking at the man intimidatingly making himself known by the entrance of the alleyway to the back door of the bakery, smoke in hand while the other was on his side- a holster you assume as you see something gleam below the morning light.

You noticed that he wore a suit quite similar to the men you met last night. Although this time, it was dark navy blue in color with a heavy coat on top, and brown shoes that seemed quite shinier that the jewels he wore on his fingers.

As you picked apart his outfit, he came in closer, noticing how you shivered at his presence (you weren’t it was just cold and he surprised the beejeebus out of you.)

So he stopped a bit aways away, five feet apart to be safe of the unexpected accusation that might come along by strangers at the street side.

“Got any business with this place?”

“Huh?” You look up at him, finally looking at his- less irritated, more confused than anything- face. His slicked back blonde hair made his eye brow raise and forehead creases even more noticeable as he tossed to you his questionable stare.

“Oh, uh yeah- I do.”

He nods, “right.”

You deadpanned, with you not believing him and him not believing your words— you decided to start the conversation again by standing and introducing yourself.

“I’m Graves,” he does the same, and stuff his hands in his pocket, offering a nod and grin.

“Like…” you paused, “the tombstone?”

He deadpans this time and sighs, shaking his head.

“You... you can put it that way,” he waves his hand, “but what’s your business here anyway, shortstack?”

You grumble to yourself about his nickname but placed in the back burner for later, where you would also burn him- but that’s a plan in the making.

“Why do you need to know?” You reply, a bit apprehensive of his prying. It’s not like he lived here- as far as you know.

…Maybe he was going to hustle you for messing with his favorite smoking spot?!

“Oh!” You turn to him, making his mouth clamp shut. “This might have been your smoking spot right? My bad.”

You bowed your head in a slight bow when apologizing, “its just that the owners of the bakery told me to clean up here,” you pointed to the pile of dump on the trashcan, “but as you can see, its taking me some time.”

He laughs, finally connecting the dots in his head and figuring who you were.

“Those old hags giving you trouble?”

Suddenly his arm was on your shoulder, slinging you forward and into his space which made you slightly flinch away, half uncomfortable and the other half making you hope wouldn't dirty his- clearly expensive- suit then blame it on you and pay for cleaning or worse... replace it.

Yeah, you didn't want to think about that.

So, you shook your but deeply sigh anyways, "it's all good."

You didn't know why but you wanted to reassure the stranger. In hope of getting him off your case? Maybe so- but it was more likely that his suit quite stank from the smell of cigs and alcohol, but with the mix of his- high end- cologne- it was just a smell that spelled disaster for your senses.

"Really now?" Unconvinced he was again but at this point, why did you continue to care?

So you huffed, sliding out of his grasp- surprisingly easily- and went by the back door, arms crossed just like a certain someone had done moments ago.

"Really," you rolled your eyes, "but its up to you to believe it or not."

Graves' eyes sparkled, smirk widening as he sniffs out a challenge- a challenge to his authority.

He scoffs out an amused chuckle as he sees you stomp back into the bakery in a huff, clearly cutting short your interaction with him and the conversation.

A conversation he quite wanted to continue.

So he follows, interest now piqued, wondering if you were a new face in town or simply a fleeting face he'd forget in a momentary notice. Whatever it was, he wanted to know.

His gut feeling says he has to--

it hasn't proven him wrong after all.

Entering the warm bakery as compared the cold breeze the outside gave made you shiver, hoping your body would better quickly adapt to the temperature change.

Quickly hanging your apron, you called out to the two that you came back for the lunch rush, all the while washing your hands in the kitchen's sink.

Whistling a tune, you think back to the words of Nonna earlier, having said that you would have to stay here until you get the end of your bargain. At least, that was what you think she meant until the list is done and dealt with.

Your actions slow as you think of an alternative-- you could text your co-worker and ask them right now, but that was embarrassing to think of doing. They gave simple instructions of how to get at the place, yet you somehow got lost and stumbled upon so much more people than you think you would have before coming into this reputable city.

To be honest to yourself for a moment, you didn't want to admit it to them not because of embarrassment- but because of how you felt ashamed of yourself. You didn't like having yourself in this position, squandering away for any penny you can make, scraping by with each paycheck, and most of all, for being so stupid that you can't even repay the kindness your co-worker has shown you. It felt like a waste, that you weren't using it right now-- staying at their place and slowly making it up to them by paying back every single money they spent to pay for rent, utilities, and food that they provided.

So you resolved yourself, slapping your face with the washed hands to wake yourself up from the quite long (short) introspection of your situation right now.

You did owe Nonna and Nonno for staying here, but for the boss of Soup? No... Suds-? Anyways, you had to repay that guy's boss as well for the lodging last night.

Maybe you can rearrange the agreement with the couple to provide- at least- the minimum of minimum wages so you wouldn't be just free labor for their amusement.

Despite thinking that they really might need some help, looking around at the state of place.

"Seems like you washed your hands extra clean."

You hear a sip behind you, jumping once more as you naturally glared at the person that spooked you.

"Could you like," you waved your hands around trying to find words, "not spook me every time you appear-- are you the boogeyman incarnate or something?"

This man in front of you, as formal as he looks, just breaks into cackles.

Downright fits of laughter that continuously bubble out of him.

Wheezing and all that-- but you wait, staring at him strangely and for him to catch his breath.

After a couple minutes pass and he doesn't, even leaning against the doorway as he covers his face (which was bright red) in attempt to limit his giggles, you sigh and untangle your arms. Pushing yourself off the sink and moving him aside so you could start the lunch shift.

"Wa-wait!"

You hear the man wheeze out and in frustration, you grumble out a- "what?"

"I- I was only ask-asking about you earlier bec-because--"

"because he's la famiglia, cara!"

You turn to the sudden pop of Nonna at your side, looking at her in question, "what do you mean-?"

"He-!" She quickly slaps his back to cough out his remaining laughter, "is one of my sons!"

"Son?" you ask, head tilting as you think back to that photo on the board. You turn to the board, checking if you were right-- and it was as if fate checked mate you as your eyes locked onto the boy at the far right side of the one completed family picture (you assumed) which had a lot of members.

'Blonde and blue eyes...'

The man, who has just been a disaster a couple of minutes ago, had now regain his composure and grinned at you as if it didn't look like he was losing his balls earlier.

"That's why I was concerned shortcake," he wraps his arm around Nonna (who just snuggles into him), "'cause I'm her son."

'Oof. '

Well, now that you know that they were all their (adopted) children in that picture, you find yourself more at ease in Graves' presence as Nonna chats to him about what happened ever since you showed up, with him humming and commenting from time to time.

As they sat at the side, you continued to do your job, managing the register and the back of the house- sending orders in and plates out.

You did it so much that by the time another table came, you were in auto pilot, customer service mode.

"Hello and welcome! What can I get for y'all started with--"

"Well, aren't you worse for wear."

Hearing that out of place comment made you snap out of your stupor, finally taking in the faces before you.

"The guys from last night!" You gasp, "and Suds' boss!" you glanced at the man with a beard and you could see him smile and nod, reaffirming who he was.

"Yes, that's me-"

Yet he gets cut by the rounding laughter of the table, making you confused, muttered a small, "what?"

"Suds--" The kind man from the other night manages out before falling into another fit of wheezing.

"His name ain't Suds, darlin'," the guy with a rough, scratchy voice talks and you now see that he was wearing a skull mask on the upper part of his face, then a black clothe covering his lower half.

"It's not?"

The man in question groans out, "its Soap you nest-head!"

You clicked your tongue, "Now I'm less inclined to call you that, Suds."

Now even Price chuckles at this exchange, making 'Grickky' looking at him in shock.

"Did you sleep well?"

Price redirects the conversation and you turn to him with a smile and nod, "thank to you sir."

You politely bowed your head and told him how you were gonna pay him back for it, but he just shakes his head- telling that you "shouldn't worry your pretty lil' head over a lil' cash."

"But its not a little amount!" You protested and they looked at you in shock. Thinking that you would just accept it and be done with it.

"I know better than anyone how both kindness and money is precious, so I'll work to pay you back sir."

The determination flaming in your eyes makes them quite stunned at the moment before Price just chuckles, "do as you wish." He says in contentment of the moment, and he was quite satisfied from how you reacted- bubbling and smiling as if you weren't laying sick mere hours ago when they last saw you.

"Cara!"

You hear Nonna call for you and you pause, asking for the four to wait a moment while you walk to see what Nonna needed until you see her approaching in excitement.

"Nonna-?"

"Oh my gosh!" She squeals into your arms, "I can't believe you're meeting all my boys today!"

"Your...boys?"

You stare at her for a moment before redirecting it to the sheepish four who sat there.

Welp... now your proclamations sounds a little awkward...

There was no way she would let her own son pay for lodging at his parent's place.

Even though you've only known Nonna for a couple hours, you were quite sure. A conclusion which made you throw your head back in embarrassment once again.

"just how many sons do you have?!"

A/N: Long chapter for the 2nd one because I got inspired! And also for the warm reception and the attention my silly lil AU for Tf 141 is getting hehe so thank yall <33 Cheers to more chapters to come !!

[it-was-summer]

Video Killed the Radio Star - Tape #1 (Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader)

A/N: After being dead on this account for years, like Christ (or bread?), I have risen (I'm not religious). The point is, if you are new to this series, welcome! I am rewriting this series for myself (and anyone still reading after all this time). It is something I want to see through and that I loved re-reading all these years later. The original reception was so warm and lovely, sometimes making me feel guilty for leaving so abruptly. I loved every reblog, comment, tag, and like for this series. I hope that if you're still here, you like the remake. This series DOES contain sensitive matters such as kidnapping, death, torture, sexual themes, and more. If you struggle with this material please know you are not alone and always reach out for help. I will be making a new masterlist once I have more chapters out. Please let me know what you think and enjoy! - Much love, Em <3

Video Killed the Radio Star Remake Masterlist

Link to the Ao3: Video Killed the Radio Star

Next Chapter: Tape #2

WARNING: stalking, mention of kidnapping, blood, cursing, and sensitive material ahead.

Tape Contents: You start recording videos for the BAU once you find out you have a stalker.

Word Count: 2,196

Tape #1- December 29, 20XX

Your face looks a little apprehensive as you move away from the webcam on your computer. Your eyes flick off the screen, leaning forward to read something as if you had planned out a script for yourself. You wave at the camera, offering the lens a weak and shy smile. Your posture slumps for a second, letting out a prolonged sigh. “I,” you frown at the camera, “I’m not good at talking to myself on video, it seems.” 

“I guess bluntness might be a saving grace for both of us,” you whisper as you play with a ring on your middle finger, sliding it up and down your finger, “You know that feeling you get when you’re driving home late at night and you think to yourself, ‘Oh my god. I think that car behind me is following me.’ I think it all started with that.” A hand reaches for your hair, and you timidly move a stray strand away from your eyes. 

“I tried everything I could think of and kept turning randomly, but it was too late. I would rush up to my apartment, and across the street would the same red van every fucking weekend. I tried to get the plate one day as I watched them leave from my window, but no such luck.” You swallow thickly, your voice suddenly full of emotion. 

A sad smile crosses your face as you shake your head, “Fucking dumb, this is so fucking dumb.” you cry softly as tears dance along your lash line. You take a deep breath and push your shoulders back in a desperate attempt to regain your composure. 

You hold up a wilted, purple rose. Loose petals fall as you twist the stem between your thumb and index. “Got this last night, just on my windshield.” You mutter with a tone of disdain. “Don’t even like roses.” you joke lightly as you set the rose on your desk. 

“I’m going to the police tomorrow. I just… thought maybe doing this would make me feel better,” you pause and let out a bitter laugh, leaning toward the camera, “It hasn’t.” 

Then the screen goes black. 

Tape #2- January 3, 20XX. 

Your eyes have bags under them, and you gently rub the bridge between them. “So, got told off by the police.” 

You lean back in your desk chair and shake your head before pointing accusingly at the camera. “Went to the station, brought my stupid fucking rose and everything. They told me they would patrol the area. Of course, what car do I not see across the street anymore? That fucking red van. Guy told me that I was just imagining things.” 

You relax for a second before speaking again, your shoulders squaring defensively. “And! And, the second they leave, guess who is back again. Every single weekend, 7 pm to 11 pm.” You let out a weary sigh and rest an arm on your desk, staring directly into the camera. 

“The Police said they couldn’t even do anything until something boarding physical assault happens.” You trail off with a sideways glance away from the screen. 

“I’m not going to just sit idly by waiting to get assaulted.” You hiss out, leaning forward and stopping the video. 

Tape #3- January 14, 20XX 

You’re playing with the edges of your sweater as you lean back into your chair, rocking slightly. “Got another love present today,” Your voice distant as you pull a Polaroid from the desk, holding it up for the camera to see. 

The Polaroid was of you at the library where you worked. You were sitting in a striped sweater, your hair down. You were smiling at one of the volunteers who works ‘story hour.’ You threw the picture back on the desk with a grimace. 

“No one told me that my sweater that day looked so hideous.” You croak out in a desperate attempt to make yourself laugh in the moment, and for a second, it works. You start with a slight chuckle, but it quickly takes a sharp turn for the worst and becomes a full-on sob. 

“I’m sorry,” you choke out before you wipe tears from under your eyes, “I’m just scared. My mom and I talked about it, and she said that maybe it was a ‘secret admirer,’ which… does not make it any better. I feel like everyone thinks I’m fucking crazy.” Your voice raises before you cut yourself off and look down at your sweater again. 

“I’m not,” 

Camera off.

Tape #4- January 17, 20XX

You smile at the camera and scoot a little closer. “Hey,” you say with a gentle sigh of relief, “Great news—I’m organized!”

You lean back and relax in your chair slightly, “So I’m Y/N L/N. I work as a librarian here in Richmond, Virginia. My apartment will be in my records, I’m sure.” You laugh out softly, holding up a photo of a tattoo that seems to reside on your lower collarbone. 

“I didn’t want to flash the camera, so I took the liberty of taking a photo of this lovely tattoo of mine,” you say, glancing at the photo of the line-art floral tattoo next to your face. “If you think this doesn’t seem like me… well, you’re partially right. I was drunk in Vegas for my twenty-first birthday, and then I woke up missing a good chunk of money and a tattoo.” You shrug as you slowly set the photo on your desk. 

“I’m not trying to freak anyone out if they do see this. I just…” you pause, releasing a slow and controlling breath, “I want to be found if I do go missing. I want to be easily identified if I’m not alive. I want people to know I was a person and not just a body, you know?” You let your lips grow into a weak smile, nodding slightly, seeming to agree with yourself. 

“I’m making these to help myself, to feel like I have more control. The presents stopped recently, but they’re still watching me every weekend. It feels like it's about to get worse. I can’t explain it. I’m not trying to make the police feel bad. I just… don’t like going down without a fight.” 

“Speaking of not going down without a fight,” You reach over to grab a photo and proudly turn it over to the camera. “You know who this is?” You ask your silent audience. “This is the lovely Jennifer Jareau.” You answer with a weak smile, feeling strange as you talk with yourself. 

“I decided to beg the police to email this video folder to her. Currently, just the police have this, as I’m annoying and persistent but also very charming. That’s a lie. My coworker's boyfriend’s friend works at the station. Hopefully,” You swallow gently as the photo slips away from your fingers. “Hopefully, they won’t have to send it to her and the BAU team, but in the unfortunate case, she does see this.” You smile, wave a little, mouth a soft ‘hello,’ and lean forward—screen black. 

Tape #5- February 10, 20XX

You’re wearing a red, pink, and white striped sweater with a white headband pushing your hair back as the camera focuses again on you. “Happy Early Valentine’s Day to everyone who got a gift from their stalker on the top of their car today,” you say with mock happiness before your smile falls, and you hold up a copy of Wuthering Heights. 

You flip through the pages before stopping on one and facing it toward the camera, trying to get it to focus, but you quickly find the task irritating. You groan and decide to read the line, “Be with me always - take any form - drive me mad.”

“That's one of the lines circled, underlined, and highlighted…” You say, flipping through more pages slowly. 

“The only scenes highlighted seem to involve Heathcliff and Catherine, which are romantic scenes, of course, but just that one quote is emphasized.”  You say, shaking your head, and you laugh a little, setting the book somewhere outside the frame. 

“What a shitty gift, I already have a copy.” You joke before the screen turns black. 

Tape #6- February 14, 20XX

Your face is flush red, eyes swollen and raw from crying as you sit in front of the camera, speechless for a short amount of time. You look positively catatonic for a second, unmoving. The sound of you raking in a shaking breath scares you as you bring yourself to speak. Your face doesn’t match your attire, as you sport a sweater with a giant pink heart in the center and small heart-shaped earrings hanging from your ears. 

“They were in here,” your voice is soft and hoarse. “They were in here, everywhere. They left roses everywhere. They were in here! They got into my apartment and left dozens of rose petals on my bed, floors, couch, and kitchen table!” Your voice raises in volume as you cut yourself off, a small tear rolling down your cheek. 

“Something isn’t right,” You were shaking your head and letting out fast breaths, on the verge of hyperventilating. “This is all getting so,” you raise your hands to run through your curls, pulling gently. “I need you to find me. I’m doing so much already. I went to the police station, and they searched everything: cameras, streets, but there was nothing! Just petals!” You yell softly, voice rasping softly at the end of your outburst. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” you mumble softly, tears filling your eyes. 

Tape #7- February 17, 20XX

You smile awkwardly at the camera and hold up Jane Eyre, opening it to a dog-eared page. “You are my sympathy --my better self --my good angel.” You read off the quote softly with a light sigh at the end of your reading. 

“Seems like we have a Brontë fan in our midst,” you try to be light-hearted as you set the book to the side. 

“I wrote down all my passwords, but it's not like you’ll need them. Nonetheless, you can never be too safe.” You quip the sentence in a soft voice. 

“I’m trying my hardest not to do anything crazy. I just, nevermind.” You say, annoyance thick in your voice as you shut the camera off quickly. 

Tape #8- March 2, 20XX

A terrible gnawing was growing in your stomach. Your hands clutched your waist gently as you leaned back in your chair. You felt like you might be sick as you stared off-camera toward your newest ‘gift.’ Your throat felt taut as you swallowed, a shaky sigh coming from your lips as your pale face looked at the camera. 

“I’m scared this might be my last video,” you say, your voice hoarse and tense, “It all just suddenly stopped. There was no more red van, no more gifts—nothing to write home about, but today,” 

You lean over to pull a pair of white, blood-soaked panties from a plastic bag into the frame. “These were on my door knob today when I got home. I tried not to touch it. I put it in this bag to ensure I didn’t contaminate it more. It doesn’t look like blood blood, more like period blood.” As you throw the bag back to your desk, your voice edges into an emotional tone, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

 “I think that they’re mine,” You cried softly, shaking slightly as you tried to control your breathing, “Th-the panties, not the blood. I haven’t, those can’t be from my period. Mine hasn’t come y-”

“I’m not going to be okay. I was stupid to think I might be, but I’m not!” You cry into your hands, and your shoulders shake as you let out a weak sob. “Please find me if I go missing. Please,” Tears fall on your cheeks as you lean toward the computer. 

“I need you to find me.” 

March 5, 20XX. 

A clicker is in J.J.’s hand as she turns off the videos. “Richmond PD sent this over this morning when twenty-eight-year-old Y/N L/N didn’t show up to her job,” She hands out folders as she speaks, “Her coworker called her mother to see if she had gone out of town when she said no. Y/N’s coworker’s boyfriend called a cop friend to check her apartment and found no trace of her or anyone else in her apartment. They sent this video folder over the second he called it in.” 

Spencer was frowning as he flipped through the pages of your file, hating the idea that you knew. He knew that dread, that feeling when something bad was about to happen to you. That innate and raw feeling that pushes through a person like a wave. He opens his mouth to say something, but Hotch is already speaking before he can get the chance to. 

“We leave here in ten,” He says before leaving the room, cutting everyone’s comments short in one small miraculous moment. 

Within ten minutes, the team finds themselves away from their jet, stuffed into groups in black SUVs, barreling toward Richmond. 

[fanatic564]

Learning Weakness (DPxDC) Chapter 1

I just posted this to AO3 and figured I would post it here as well. Here's the AO3 link if you want to read it over there instead.

Prequel: 1 2

Chapter: 2 Summary:

Damian had been forced to kill his twin, Danyal, years ago while still with the League. He mourned, grew stronger in his grief, and moved forward in life (but not moved on, never moved on). Now, his supposedly alive brother has turned to him in his time of need, with the only condition being Damian not tell anyone of his living in Wayne Manor. Chaos ensues as the family gains a resident ghost, who is determined to show his brother that living life to its fullest (showing emotion, loving others, and being a kid for once) is not a weakness, but a strength.

Notes:

Based very loosely on this tumblr post. No real upload schedule, just when inspiration hits. This first chapter is a prologue of sorts. Next chapter will probably be the beginning of the actual shenanigans. No content warnings

~~~~~~~~

Damian, despite what some people think, knows how death affects others. He knows that for every drop of blood on his hands, there is family or friends out there to mourn the loss of life. Of course he knows that. Because he’s experienced it himself. Has been on that other end before.

Damian killed his brother.

He has long since come to terms with that fact. He was the hand behind the blade that slit into his brother’s throat, as unwilling as that hand had been, just as much as he was the family on the other end to mourn his death. Sometimes, Damian felt as if he was the only one who did mourn. Grandfather was the one who called for the duel in the first place, and Mother had only watched with cold emotionless eyes as the motionless body of her own son was removed from sight. By the time Todd had come to the League years later, no one ever spoke a word about the defeated heir. As if he never existed at all. And so Damian was the only one left to mourn, despite being the one to cause the loss in the first place.

Which is why he’s confused as to how and why his brother has decided to show up once more into his life, years after his death.

The being floating in front of him in his bedroom is unmistakably Danyal. Sure, he is older than the last time Damian had seen him. His hair is a stark white, his eyes are glowing green, and he is floating in front of him. But Damian could recognize that cheeky grin anywhere, and the pose he is in, laying with his hands behind his head despite being midair, is so Danyal that Damian would cry if he were a weaker being.

“Correct me if I have misunderstood, Danyal, but you mean to tell me that not only did you survive my blade all those years ago, but you managed to leave the League and convince a civilian family to adopt you, only to die again only a few years later and somehow still survive after death.”

Danyal shrugs in response. “I mean, I didn’t actually survive your blow. But CW told me it ‘wasn’t my time to go yet’, so I got better.”

“You got better” Damian deadpans.

“Yup”

“You are unbelievable.”

“Aw, but you missed me!”

Damian is not a weaker being, and so he does not cry as he responds. “Yeah, I did.”

He pats the bed beside him and Danyal floats down to sit. Damian almost flinches when the bed caves as the body next to him settles. He had expected his brother to simply float near the bed, not actually be able to interact with it. Damian wants to bring it up, discuss the specifics of his brother’s condition, but there are more pressing questions to be answered, and if Damian has his way then he will have plenty of time to ask later.

Damian wants to lean his head on his brother’s shoulder for the upcoming conversation, like back when they were in the League and only had each other as a source of comfort, but he holds himself back. This may be his brother, his Danyal, but its been so long, and they’ve both changed so much, that he doesn’t think it would be appreciated if he does. He takes a deep breath, looking down at his feet as he starts to speak.

“Why come to me, Danyal? And why now?”

“Why wouldn’t I come to you?”

“’Why wouldn’t you?’ Danyal, I killed you. Sure, you apparently survived but it doesn’t change the fact that for all intents and purposes I am your killer. Unless you are here to haunt me or torture me or something else for what I have done, then I don’t see a reason for you to come to me of all people.”

“Damian, look at me” Damian continues looking at his feet. A cold, no, a freezing hand touches Damian’s cheek, and this time he does flinch as it forces him to look his brother in the eyes. “Sure, you may have killed me, but you didn’t have a choice. It was me or you. And for what its worth, I’m glad it was me.”

Damian goes to protest but is cut off as Danyal continues. “I came back. There’s no guarantee that you would have. And even if I didn’t, I’m still glad that you’re the one to survive. I wouldn’t have lasted long as the Demon’s only heir. We both know I was never cut out for it. You’re so strong, Damian. Strong and brave. You survived Grandfather, you survived the League, and you got out of there. I’m so proud of you.”

Damian is not weak. He’s not. But then again, he’s always thought that maybe its okay to show weakness when he’s wrapped in his brother’s arms. This apparently hasn’t changed, for the moment Damian feels those very same arms wrap around him, albeit longer and slightly more muscled than when they were kids, he breaks.

Damian has never been a loud crier, but the tears flow down his face as he struggles to catch his breath. He feels his brother’s arms tighten, feels wet drops drip into his hair, and he knows his brother is showing weakness as well. Damian vows to never take advantage of his brother’s weaknesses. He will not lose his brother again, no matter what.

The two end up laying down on Damian’s bed, still wrapped up in each other’s arms. They lay there quietly until Damian eventually breaks it. “You didn’t answer my other question.”

Danyal simply hums in response to show that he’s listening.

“Why did you only return now? What has happened to make you seek me out? Why not go to your civilian family or friends?”

Danyal takes a moment to respond, long enough for Damian to wonder if he even plans to. ��I… can’t stay with them any longer. Because of what I am. I am considered an illegal entity by the government and am eligible for experimentation and torture if caught-”

Damian cuts him off as he sits up quickly, dragging his brother up with him. “What‽ Surely that goes against the Meta Protection Acts?”

Danyal takes being dragged around in stride, simply tightening his arms around Damian as he goes on. “Nope. According to the US government, I am considered a non-sentient ecto-entity who is incapable of feeling pain who only wants to cause chaos and destruction and thus should be eliminated.” The way he says it, as if reciting a script, makes Damian think that he has said or heard those words way too many times.

“And what does your civilian family think? Do they even know about this?” Surely they would protect him from whatever government agents wish to take Danyal away.

Danyal’s face goes cold and he takes a moment to respond. “My parents are the researchers who’s studies influenced the law in the first place.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Once they found out about me being a ghost, there went any safety I had with them. And I couldn’t stay with any of my friends cause they’re already on the cusp of being liminal, so me being with them would only put them in danger. I can’t stay with my older sister cause she’s in college in a city that doesn’t have enough ambient ectoplasm to keep me stable.”

“And Gotham does?”

“Gotham is the haunt of the Never-Born Lady Gotham. She’s very protective of her city and those she calls hers. Once she found out I was your long lost brother she basically did the ghost equivalent of adoption. So I’m allowed to stay here and use her ambient ectoplasm without repercussion.”

“I see” In truth, Damian only understood half of what Danyal said. Liminal? Never-Born? Ectoplasm? Damian didn’t know what any of that was, but hopefully he’ll have the time to learn. “Well, I suppose I should inform father-”

“No!” The speed at which Danyal responds shocks him, as well as the firmness in the answer. “You cannot tell anyone I’m here.”

“Why not? Surely you don’t expect me to hide a whole teenage boy in my bedroom without anyone noticing?”

“If the GIW finds out that Bruce took me in, he could be arrested for harboring and illegal entity. The less people that know, the more they can have plausible deniability. That, along with Batman’s ‘no metas in Gotham’ rule, makes it safer for me to hide. As for the hiding part…” With that Danyal disappears from Damian’s sight, and if he couldn’t still feel the arms around him he would have paniced that the other had left him for good. “...I’m pretty good at that. Just call me Casper, cause I’ll be the friendly ghost of the manor.”

“Your name is Danyal, why would I call you Casper?”

Danyal lets go and stares at him at that. “Oh you poor, poor soul. I’m going to introduce you to so many things while I’m here.”

Damian lets out a small, but genuine smile as he looks at his brother. “I look forward to it.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End notes

Not beta-read. Ending feels kinda abrupt, but I've never been good at endings so… Feel free to leave suggestions of things you'd like to see. I have some ideas of shenanigans and what not but I'm curious to see what y'all say. Or if you see any mistakes, let me know.

[lisenberry]

The mountain is you

Ch. 2 - I don't know what it is that I'm climbing to

~2.4k

E/MDNI/18+

CW: BDSM negotiations, dom!Price, dom!Ghost, pain play

(Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 4)

It’d been a while since John had spoken to his former lieutenant, and even longer since he’d seen him.  The last few years had passed in a fog, so it was a shock when he saw the familiar number come across his phone.  He only briefly hesitated before answering. 

Soap and Gaz texted him all the time.  Links of foolish videos on the clock app, and pictures of mysterious rashes on their body parts that they needed help identifying.

But Ghost wasn’t one to waste anyone’s time.  Whatever it was, it was important.  And as it turned out, he had a proposition for him.

“You need a project, Cap.  Something to keep you sharp.”

“Are you worried about me, Simon?”

“We all are.”

John had been the one to start Life Connect 141.  An opportunity that gave the lads a place to channel their post-combat restless energy in a way that wouldn’t get them a murder conviction or a stint in a maximum-security psych ward.  It kept them together as a team and gave them a purpose.  And the opportunity to launder some of the not-quite-above-board money they’d liberated over the course of their travels.

Some veterans of special ops worked with rescued pit bulls.  Others started fitness programs, backpacking guide schools, and preparedness training facilities.

His boys filled their own rewarding niche.  Even after John’s departure, the company had flourished and from what he could tell, they were all staying out of trouble.

Judging by Ghost’s concern, he was the one who was floundering.  A marriage to the wrong woman, and the subsequent messy divorce, had left him dangerously adrift.  He’d thought about returning to the work, but his heart wasn’t in it anymore.

“Just meet her.  Trust me.  You can decide then if you’re doing me a favor, or the other way around.”

And he did trust Ghost.  With his life.  And if anyone had been keeping track, he imagined the scales were just about even between who owed whom more.

In the end, he agreed to the meeting.  For no other reason than to see for himself what had one of the toughest, most resourceful bastards he’d ever known seeking his expertise. 

They’d been at the table for a half hour, going over your file and discussing the particulars when John glanced up to catch his first impression of you.  A breezy blouse and a long, colorful skirt.  You looked around the outside seating area but didn’t see them.

Or more likely, you didn’t recognize Ghost without his mask on, judging by the surprised laughter that met his ears a few seconds later.

“Ah, dove.  There you are.”  Simon grinned as he stood, pulling you into a friendly hug. 

“You’ll have to forgive me, I’ve never seen you without the mask before.  I’m trying to reconcile the picture in my head.  I’ll try not to stare.”  An endearingly warm smile lit up your face.

You weren’t at all what John had pictured, either.  He’d clearly have to adjust the conclusions he’d reached based on your file.  He’d read about your stressful, demanding job, your high intelligence and predilection for punishment, and he’d imagined someone harder.  Colder.

There was a notation in the margin on one of the pages that had stood out as well. 

Daddy issues??? Undisclosed but probable.

He made his own note to inquire further, suddenly anxious to know everything there was to know about you.

“The mask is an improvement, don’t you think?” Ghost shrugged.  Was he actually blushing? 

Surely it was just the heat of the sun or a trick of the light.

“It has its charms, but you have a very honest face.”  The way you laid your hand reassuringly on his lieutenant’s arm made John clear his throat and offer his own hand in greeting.

As cute as your connection was, you were there for him, and he noticed the way you’d nervously avoided meeting his gaze.  The way you’d chosen to cling instead to Simon, the devil you knew. 

He had no desire to forcibly extricate you from your bond with your previous Dom.  That wasn’t how it worked.  At best, John could match it.  Slowly.  If he did his job right, in time, you’d come to look at him with a similar trust.

“Nice to meet you,” your eyes finally flitted to his as he took your cool, smooth palm into his own. 

It was then that he felt it.  The twitchy, fevered thrill of a worthy mission.

“So, what does that file say about me?”  You sipped your pint, finding your throat suddenly dry and your forehead warm, and in need of something to do with your hands. 

Ghost had excused himself a short while before, after making the introductions and sharing a few stories of his and John’s time working together.   

You’d found being alone with him to be...intense.  He seemed impenetrable.

He didn’t look down at the folder, and kept it closed on the table.  His pen held between his two hands, contemplative and resolute.

“That you’re a pain slut.  With a high tolerance.”  His voice didn’t rise above his gruff, conversational tone, and you didn’t bother to look around at your fellow patrons seated near you.  With the din of the restaurant, they wouldn’t be able to hear.  “Does that bother you?”

“No.  It’s the truth.”  You didn’t have anything to hide.  Not from him at least.  Not if this was going to work.

“What is it about pain that you seek out?”  He crossed his arms over the table and leaned in closer.  Biceps bunching under his t-shirt.  Ghost had always worn a suit.  John looked like he came from a construction site.  Unshaven and slightly dangerous.

You didn't hate it.

“When it’s done right, there’s a moment right before it gets to be too much that my body starts to fight back.  As if to say, ‘Go on, I dare you.  Is that all you’ve got to give?’  And just then, right before I give in and quit, it’s the most powerful I’ve ever been.  The most alive.”

“It’s the rush then, is it?”  He studied you like a therapist.  And you felt like a patient.  Only this therapist’s job was to tie you up and make you cry.  And come.  And cry again.  The thought made you shudder inwardly with anticipation.   

“It doesn’t work for all pain.  It’s not the blood or the risk of injury.  I don’t get off at the thought of the dentist...” you trailed off with a light laugh, finding it easier to talk to him about this than you'd thought. “But sometimes, the more helpless I am, the stronger it feels.  There aren’t too many things you can do without thinking about it.  Against your will.  Beating, breathing, feeling.  There’s a freedom in it.  Again, if it’s done right.”

“You don’t like to think, then.  You’d rather be surprised?”

“I don’t mind surprises.  I like them, actually.  We don’t have to negotiate everything ahead of time, so long as it feels right in the scene.”

You finished off the last of your pint and smoothed the napkin that had caught to the condensation on the bottom.  A first date, a therapy session, and an interview all in one.  And yet it didn’t fill you with the same anxiety as it should.  It could’ve gone wrong in a hundred different ways, and yet the more you confided, the more you relaxed. 

“Talk to me about these hard lines.”  He opened your file, skimmed it, and moved his pen back and forth as if he was underlining something boldly.

“Always be honest with me about what you’re going to do.  Don’t play games or make me have to choose something in order to please you.  Keep me engaged, but if I have to make a decision it will take me out of it.”

“That’s important to know, thank you.”  He made another note on the page.  “It also says no choking, but with an asterisk next to it.  Care you elaborate?”

“When I was little, I had terrible asthma.  Life threatening at times.  It’s under control now, but not being able to breathe, or even the threat of it, doesn’t...” you paused, searching for the right word to convey your biggest fear, “arouse me.  Let’s just say.”

“I understand why it wouldn’t.”  No sympathetic indulgence, thankfully, just a solid nod of support. 

Could he relate?  You wondered what hard lines he had.  You couldn’t imagine anything scaring him. Ghost had reacted the same when you’d had this discussion.  No questions, no bargaining.  Just respect for your vulnerability.  Surprising, from two men who seemingly had none themselves.

It prompted you to delve in further, and leave no room for misunderstanding, just in case.

“No collars, no ribbons, bows, belts, neckties, your hands, anything please.”

“Neck is off limits.  Noted.” 

“You can still kiss me there, if that’s something you like.  Or you can slap me, to get my attention.  And if you need to move me around or hold me down, you can grab my hair.”

You punctuated the last with a helpful smile and a shrug of your shoulders.  His gaze seemed to find your neck then, perhaps contemplating what it’d be like to kiss it.  Did the thought bring him as much excitement as it did you?

“Fair enough.”  A contented grunt was all you received in response.

“You said that this would be a reciprocating agreement.  What do you want from me?”  The question that had been on your mind since Ghost had called you.

With him, you just paid him money.  That was your end of the deal.  Without payment, that left too much to your imagination and you’d let it run a bit wild. 

“I’ll tell you what I want, and when I want it.  Is that clear?  I won’t ask for your permission, and you’ll never have to wonder what I’m thinking.  I don’t hear yes and no, or green and yellow.  Red means take a break and try something else, and the safe word is a hard stop to call it a day.”

“Understood.  Thank you.”  It was a plan you could definitely work with.  “But what about you?  What do you hope to get out of this?”

“I like to be in charge.  Take care of things.  And do the hard things that need to be done.”

“And who takes care of you?”  A simple question, but he seemed to bristle at it.  Perhaps you’d pushed him too far, too soon. 

“Good little girls who listen and behave.”  He adjusted himself in his seat, straightening as if to get back some control.  “Let’s talk punishments.  No spanking, obviously.  You’ll enjoy it too much.”  His eyes seemed to darken in both amusement and desire.

No doubt proud of himself for changing the subject and redirecting the friendly interrogation.

“Hopefully I won’t displease you, but you could ignore me.  That will make me rethink my attitude real quick,” you replied, with an answering grin.

“Ignore you?  I think that would hurt me more than you, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart.  You liked that.  Probably said as much with the flood of heat to your cheeks and the breathless giggle that sounded so foreign to your ears. 

“I think we’ll get along just fine...John?”  You questioned what name he wanted to be called.

“Sir.  Just sir.”

On the day of your appointment, he texted you the location and the key code for the door lock.  You found the building easily, and stepped into the elevator, double checking the apartment number to be sure you were in the right place.

When the code worked on the door to the fifth floor, you entered to find that it was someone’s home. 

The office of Life Connect 141 was in a nondescript office space on the outskirts of Canary Wharf, not far from your office.  If anyone spotted you, you could use the excuse of taking a meeting or doing your due diligence on a property you were looking to liquidate.

This, on the other hand, was well off the beaten path.  A restored factory building in a neighborhood you weren’t familiar with, but appeared to be up and coming judging by the activity along the street.  You’d already noted a few restaurants to try on the short walk from the Tube station and filed them away to pick up something to eat on your way home. 

A flat of this size and builder quality must have cost a premium, or else the owner bought in cheap before the neighborhood began to blossom.  It was well-appointed and comfortable.  Floor to ceiling windows that opened to look just above the shorter buildings next door.  Privacy from looking directly at your neighbors, but still connected to the bustling down below.

Once inside, you followed his directions to the letter.  You’d arrived early, dimmed the lights and set your bag on the hook by the door.  Cell phone ringer turned off and your shoes in the basket in the hall.

"I’ll leave what I want you to wear on a chair, you’ll know which one.  Wear nothing else.  There will be a pillow on the floor, you’ll know which one.  You’ll greet me on it."

As you moved in past the entryway, the remaining room was an open concept.  A kitchen with an attached dining area, and a living space on the opposite side.  Two plush sofas and an assortment of chairs and tables.  You didn’t know what to expect.  A pleasure room, maybe, or a dungeon of racks and toys.

It was just a living room.

Any nerves you’d been holding onto dissolved when you spotted the fabric draped across the lapis lazuli velvet wing-backed armchair.  Was that going to be his seat?  It was large enough to hold both of you comfortably...if you were on his lap.  It was certainly a statement piece.

The outfit he’d chosen was a simple, pink silk backless slip dress.  Not cheap satin, but the softest, sheerest gossamer.  You shivered as you stripped from your street clothes and gently settled the confection over your skin.  It barely covered your ass as you folded your things and hid them out of sight.

You briefly warred with whether to leave your hair up or down, deciding on the former, before you finally took a deep breath to center yourself.  Whatever happened next was out of your control.

When your knees met with the pillow at the foot of The Chair, your mind emptied and you felt the tension that you’d been carrying for weeks start to fade.  

Just in time to hear the click of the front door.

[bellshazes]

dreaming up a syllabus for an imaginary course on metanarratives about gameplay, which i think would go something like:

unit 1: who do you think you are i am - auto-documentary & games

Vlogs and the Hyperreal, Folding Ideas

The Slow Death of Let's Play Videos, Meraki (to ~10:00)

World Record Progression: Mike Tyson, Summoning Salt

ROBLOX_OOF.mp3, hbomberguy

Life as a Bokoblin: A Zelda Nature Documentary, Monster Maze

optional: Braindump on the History of Let's Plays, slowbeef

unit 2: what like it's hard? - intro to challenge narratives

Chapter 26: Games as Narrative Play: Two Structures for Narrative Play, Rules of Play

A different kind of challenge run: Minimalist 100% (BOTW), Wolf Link

Surviving 100 Days on Just Dirt, Mogswamp

Can You Beat DARK SOULS III with Only Firebombs, the Backlogs

Is it Possible to Beat Super Mario 3D World while permanently crouching?, Ceave Gaming

The Pacifist Challenge - Beating Hollow Knight Without Collecting Soul [CHALLENGE] - Sample

optional: How to 100% Snowpeak Ruins in under 15 minutes, bewildebeest

unit 3: nelly you don't understand, i AM the narrative - form and function

The Future of Writing about Games, Jacob Geller

Can You Beat GRIME Without Weapons?, the Backlogs

Mushroom Kingdom Championships, Ceave Gaming

My Life as a Barber in Hitman 2, MinMax (Leo Vader)

MyHouse.WAD - Inside Doom's Most Terrifying Mod, PowerPak

optional: Mega Microvideos, Matthewmatosis

the theme and structure is mostly intended to introduce at least one critical or historically contextual work followed by examples of the type of narrative in question.

in unit 1, this is the idea of "How do people talk about their own experiences in the context of YouTube and playing video games?" across three rather different kinds of documentaries. unit 2 is intended to take that lens of who is telling what tale and dial in on challenge running, where i first noticed the way some videos turn the story of overcoming a challenge into its own narrative that is distinct from but related to the narrative events of the game itself. unit 3 circles back to the bigger picture with a variety of examples that, to me, are maximally metanarrative, the emergent story of the player-narrator now functionally replacing the game's embedded narrative.

bonus unit: broken narratives

Glitch & the Grotesque at the MLA, Sylvia Korman

Watching time loop movies to escape my time loop, Leo Vader

The Stanley Parable, Dark Souls, and Intended Play, Folding Ideas

Breaking Madden, Jon Bois

The TRUTH about the Pizzaplex in FNAF: Security Breach, AstralSpiff

this one is highly underdeveloped, but i'd love to work out something more robust building on randomizer challenges that produce intentionally bizarre, semi-ironic "lore," and bois-esque endeavors to break games so hard the story itself crumbles. but that's really out of scope so i'm just including the links to things i couldn't bear to get rid of. more rambling abt the challenge runs I chose under the cut.

Challenge runs represent one of the most obvious places to start, due to being extremely plentiful and having a hook that makes a "here's how I did X thing in Y video game" format almost unavoidable. Minimalist 100% is an underrated and sweet straightforward example that I mostly include as a baseline for reporting-out style narrative; here are the facts, here's what happened, this is the thing that it is. Mogswamp's 100 Days on Just Dirt is similar in style, but the physical measuring of days is a delightful and, more importantly, external narrative device.

Now oriented, we get a taste of Ceave Gaming's narrative approach to Mario challenges with the no-crouching run, and while we still aren't at the degree of player-characters being constructed for the narrative's sake, the spirited belief in crouching sets the stage for other rhetoric in more extreme cases we'll see later.

The Backlogs' entire body of work qualifies here, but GRIME is the strongest inspiration for putting this list together. I include the DS3 firebombs run because what was initially a factual description of how his wife's use of firebombs inspired him to play differently in the original DS1 firebombs run has developed into full-blown multi-game narrative arc with the Firebomb Goddess (his wife, who also voices the character) compelling his in-game character to achieve his destined quest. Grime takes that even further,

In-Game Documentaries

I include Life as a Bokoblin mostly as a contrast to My Life as a Barber - there is a level of fictionalization and roleplay involved in the Zelda in-game documentary that highlights exactly what I want to single out when I am talking about metanarrative, the story about a story.

[borealwrites]

Plain text list can be found under the cut, along with many other things!!

Wow! Year three!

This is the third year I’m running a Monster March event, and excited!! Also I got the prompt list out super early so theres’s plenty of time!

The collection can be found here, but until then, here are the rules and FAQs. Oh and I guess posting guidelines. The rules and FAQs are taken right from the previous collections, with a few new additions.

Rules:

1. Please use archive warnings when they apply. On that note, Please tag your works appropriately and completely.

2. Be polite to other posters. That’s fairly simple, I think.

3. Don’t overwork or stress yourself. Please.

4. DO NOT use GenAI. Or at least be smart enough to not mention it.

5. All works must be newly created for this event. Sorry, no old or recycled works are allowed.

6. That’s it. Those are the rules.

Frequently Asked Questions

This is a lie I’ve only been asked one of these

Q: Do I have to fill every day?

A: Abso-fucking-lutely not. You could do one day, or you could do seven, or fifteen, or twenty seven, or all thirty-one! You could even do multiple works for each day, if you were so motivated and ambitious. The most important parts are to have fun and not stress yourself.

Q: Is this event 18+ only?

A: I’d prefer it if it was, but I don’t think I can stop people from contributing. Content-wise, no. Post whatever form of monster appreciation you want!

Q: Does my work have to be a certain length?

A: Nope!

Q: Can I post art for this?

A: Yes. I will love you if you do.

Q: Can I post the first chapter of a work but not finish it before March ends?

A: Of course!

Q: Can I combine this with another event?

A: As long as it’s fine with the other event, yes.

Q: Does each day have to be its own separate work? Can I make a chapter for every day?

A: You can, if you want, make one long work. I personally recommend not doing that, especially if you’re crossing fandoms and relationships. Also more individual works means more kudos. But you do you.

Q: Can I write or draw X monster instead of Y monster?

A: No

Q: Is there open posting/Can I post at a later date?

A: Yes! Post whenever you want. I’ll officially be closing the collection in September, so you have until then 😁

Q: Am I allowed to write or draw X tag?

A: Yes. I’m just hosting the collection and running the event. Please tag it, though.

Q: Why do you allow X?!

A: Again, I’m just hosting the collection and running the event.

Q: Does this have to be for a specific fandom? Are Original Works allowed?

A: It can be any fandom! It can be an original work! Let your imagination run free!

Q: Does it have to be about sex?

A: Nope. Love comes in many forms, and this is about appreciating monsters.

Q: Can I use GenAI?

A: No. You cannot. Not for writing, not for your summary, not for art. I guess you could use it for prompts but maybe just find a prompt generator instead. Or send me a message, I can help too. This is about human creativity.

Q: What do you mean by “only new works?” Can I continue a series?

A: I mean that everything posted must be new. It can be part of an existing series! It cannot, however, be a new chapter in an already existing work.

Q: What you have for day X isn’t a monster!

A: To you. I asked one personally and they wanted to be on the list.

Posting Guidelines for Tumblr

My only asks for, if you post on tumblr, are to tag for triggers, and that you @ me. Oh and I suppose if whatever you’re posting has multiple parts to link them to each other.

I’m going to rb as many posts as I get, but if I miss a day, feel free to let me know! If it was a multi-parter, I’m only going to rb the first one, because I have a tendency to get them all mixed up, and then people miss certain parts and. Yeah.

So, tag for triggers, @ me, and link your multi-parters together.

Plain Text List

Monster March

March 1-31, 2025

Alraune

Nymph

Eldritch Being

Yokai

Snake/Human Hybrid

Drider

Dragon

Minotaur

Giant

Elemental Spirit

Robot

Satyr

Alien

Werewolf

Pixie/Fairy

Centaur

Succubus/Incubus

Sphinx

Demon

Angel

Merperson

Shapeshifter

Doppelgänger

Vampire

Nature Spirit

Cryptid

Ghost

Non-centaur Taur

Humanoid Animal

Fae

Free Day

[hermuseros]

You wanna try it out? Caleb X You

Chapter One

Tumblr: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 AO3: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Synopsis: Caleb is determined to be your first everything, and lucky for him you're not that hard to convince.

AN: Caleb being manipulative, only a little. First times, eventual smut. I'll link the next chapters on each post as I upload them.

The sheets are rough on your legs, military issue, and the small room is spare in a way that makes it very Caleb. There’s not much on his study desk, a half finished model and a framed picture of you both. The only object you’re not familiar with is a small lacquered box.

Perhaps that’s why it had caught your eye, so you’d flipped it open. It contains only three foil squares with the obscene text LARGE printed on each.

“You wanna try it out?”

You snap the box shut, his sudden return has startled you. He’s holding groceries and smelling of rain.

When two people are as intimate as you and Caleb, they can develop a language all of their own. A series of in jokes, references and gestures that are understood only by a native speaker.

His eyes are molten, and you both know you’ll say yes.

༺ 𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ༻

The first time he spoke those words you were 18 and already running late for your first real date. The whole evening getting ready had been a disaster. Your hair dryer had decided today was the perfect day to finally die, your best dress had somehow been put in the washing machine and now your shaky hands were making a complete mess of your eyeliner.

Not to mention your stupid big brother was being a total ass.

Caleb’s not your big brother, not really, a fact that he has been uncharacteristically vocal about the past week. You know he isn’t pleased about your date tonight with “that jackass” as he put it. Like you even cared! He was just jealous you started dating before him, or annoyed that you finally managed to score a date behind his back.

“Getting late, pipsqueak.”

You glare up at him, slouching against your doorframe. There’s a glint in his eye you know precedes relentless teasing and you do not have any patience left for him tonight.

“Get out of my room, Caleb! GRAN!”

“Oh, Gran left a while ago.” He says, all smirk.

“What?! She was going to drive me to meet Brian!”

His grin broadens, “Oh don’t worry, I said I’d take you, I’ve got my license now so you can rely on me more y’know? Besides, I’d love to say hi to Brian.”

This is by far the worst news of the evening, the icing on the worlds worst cake. Of course Caleb was going to find a way to mess this up for you. You grip your lipgloss tight to suppress the urge to pelt it at him. He’s such a bossy, controlling asshole sometimes! Of course his rivalry with Brian was more important than your love life.

“Fine, but we have to go now!”

“Can’t wait to get to kissin, huh?”

He’s observing you, trying to gauge your reaction. He’s so immature sometimes.

“That’s none of your business Caleb.” you bite back.

He’s poked a nerve. You’ve never kissed before and you had decided that tonight was going to be the night. The thought fills you with anxiety, you can’t believe you hit 18 and you haven’t even been kissed yet. You’re convinced that your overprotective brothers long shadow is the reason you’ve been so unapproachable. With college looming it feels urgent that you take care of it as quickly as possible. Brian will have to do.

Calebs expression softens a little, but there’s a mask over his features that makes you nervous.

“Alright, sorry pips. Let’s get going I guess.”

He drives you to the theatre in silence while you’re frantically texting apologies to Brian, saying your brother has had to drive you and offering to pay for a later ticket. You keep refreshing the chat box, it’s been ten minutes with no response.

“You really like this guy, huh?” asks Caleb flatly. You glance up in surprise, but his eyes are fixed on the road. He’s never really had a kind word to say about any guy in your orbit.

“Oh… um. Well my friend put in a lot of effort to set this up. He seems nice…”

Caleb makes a non-committal noise, finger tapping on the steering wheel.

“I haven’t really… y’know… dated much before.”

“So, you just wanna try it out.”

Your phone finally pings and you eagerly open the chat box.

B: So sorry! I have work tmorrw :[ Rain check? :]

“Aaah no!” you say, dropping your phone and covering your face with your hands.

“What?” says Caleb, the car veering slightly.

“He cancelled! My first date and I ruined it! Oh my god!”

You can feel the hot tears building behind your eyes, and you’re infuriated to hear Calebs laugher.

“What’s the big deal!” he says, beaming “You didn’t even like the guy!”

When he see’s youre actually crying that shuts him right up.

“Oh, I’m sorry pips! Don’t cry, hey.”

Your face is still in your hands, but you hear the sound of the indicator as he gently pulls the car over and then the click of his seat belt. There’s a soft, familiar hand on your shoulder.

You curl in on yourself, you hate it when Caleb sees you cry. He always goes into ‘fix-it’ mode.

“A guy like Brian doesn’t deserve your first kiss anyway.” he says, rubbing circles between your shoulder blades.

“At least someone finally wanted to kiss me.” You mutter.

Caleb nods, his expression tight.

“Y’know I’ve seen him tryin’ to play the trombone. Drool everywhere. He’d be a lousy kisser.”

You laugh despite yourself, “ Gross, Caleb!”

“True story, it was sloppy when he was done with that thing.”

“Oh my god! You’ve always had it out for Brian!”

He hunches down in his seat, mirroring your body language.

“Who cares about kissin’ anyway. Chasin’ boys won’t get you into hunters college. That’s your dream, right?”

“It’s… it’s important to me.” You say, chest tight. Calebs never had an easy time seeing you grow up.

He sits up, silence, his leg bouncing. You wait for him to scold you, to tell you you’re still a kid, any number of predictable Caleb responses. He wipes his hands on his pants.

“Well…. we could always…you wanna try it out?”

It’s like all the air has been sucked out of the car. You’re parked on a small suburban street and the rain is beating down hard on the windshield so you must have misheard. You glace up and his eyes are bright.

“Try it out…”

“Yeah.’

“Try what out?”

“Kissing.”

You realise in a moment of horror that he’s totally serious. A loud click make you start and you realise he’s leaned in to unbuckle your seatbelt. Caleb bites his lip, so quick and minute you wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t so close. Your stomach flutters.

Sure, you could admit Caleb was an attractive guy, incredibly so. You’d checked him out (objective appreciation!) on several occasions, always happy to cling to the reality that you weren’t actually related by blood. But in your heart he was still Caleb. Caleb! Your overprotective, annoying, sweet big brother. Who you felt safe with, safer than anywhere else in the world.

“Like… practice?”

“Yeah, sure.” he responds, quickly, and you can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. The car suddenly feels too hot.

“I’ve never…” you try to find the words, “I don’t know how…”

“I can show you.” He says.

Your chest tightens at that phrase, it’s something he’s said to you a million times. How many times had you said, ‘Caleb, how do I draw this? How do I open that’. ‘Here, I can show you,’ he’d always reply and then his patient strong hands would guide you through what you needed to know. Sometimes you’d even pretend not to know how to do something, just for the pleasure of watching him enjoy teaching you something new.

You feel lightheaded with what he’s offering. The rain outside the car picks back up again, a rising crescendo of noise.

“Alright.”

That’s all it takes for him to lean all the way of his seat, one hand on the door behind you and another fisting itself into your hair. He captures your lips with his, a little forceful at first, but he quickly readjusts his position, his hand moves to cup your cheek.

He lets out a shivery sigh like he was just punched in the chest, and after a whole week of his bad mood and stonewalling you thrill at the sound. You try kissing back and it feels nice, strange. Caleb lets out a choked sound.

You open your eyes a sliver to gauge his reaction. His eyes are screwed shut, his cheeks and ears flushed at there’s gentle beads of sweat forming at his temples. His hand trembles almost imperceptibly against your cheek.

Your tongues meet shyly, in unison and warmth spreads through your entire body. You’re kissing! Finally! You’re kissing Caleb? That seems... unwise.

You deepen the kiss, knowing that your better senses will return soon and the strangeness, the taboo of what you’re doing is rapidly creeping up on you. When his hand finds the edge of your skirt the spike of adrenaline snaps you back to reality.

“Haha! Wow! Okay!”

You push him back slightly, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand in a way that you hope makes you look like your heart isn’t racing, like Caleb did nothing more exciting than show you a cool trick.

He looks utterly dazed, panting slightly, his cheeks and lips pink from… from kissing… kissing you.

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head as if to free himself from the moment. His fingers come up to touch his own lips gently, then he clears his throat.

“So… y…yeah.” He stammers.

“Yeah… thanks!” you say, a little loudly.

“Uh, anytime.”

You drive home in silence, and when you get back home you thank him for the ride, he tells you no problem, and you both go to your rooms again. It’s completely surreal.

After he leaves for aviation school a week later you have that date with Brian, and the whole time you all you can think is wow, Caleb was right, this guy really does suck at kissing.

[mii-ruby]

Yona did nothing wrong (chapter 267)

Given that we're getting the next chapter soon, I wanted to comment on this matter a last time. Akatsuki no Yona is not a fatalistic story. It showed us that things could be changed to the better through hard work. That's why, this story will never promote the idea that one should surrender to their abusers and accept their fate for the greater good. Because yes, the dragon gods are abusers: they're akin to the toxic controlling partner (or parent) who gaslights you and claims to know what's better for you, who claims their unreasonable behaviour is justified in the name of love, that it is your fault for not appreciating it, and that everything bad that happens, will be because you didn't listen to them.

Neither Yona nor Hiryuu are selfish, foolish or evil for seeking to escape a toxic environment. It is never the victim's fault for rejecting their abuser. And whatever natural disasters befall the innocent people in Kouka will be because the gods chose to unlish destruction with their own hands, not because Yona refused to yield to their suffocating love and oppression.

In fact, Yona's defiance isn't only morally justified, but also logically sound for several reasons:

1- the gods have proven themselves to be untrustworthy, by attempting to kill the very people they promised to turn human and send back to earth, leading to their current descent to madness from repetitive contract breaking. If Yona had trusted them and they later went back on their word, she'd be called dumb and naïve instead.

2- The contracts they're imposing are one sided and self serving. A contract should allow both parties to put their own terms and conditions, yet Yona is denied this right. They're desperate to regain their strength, and once that happens nothing will stop them from breaking a contract or two. Ooryuu confirms that they'll keep imposing increasingly absurd conditions, but Yona is expected to comply with these absurdities?

3- The gods had already started withdrawing their "devine protection" the moment Yona entered the chalice. They were already planning to abandon humanity all together. Their protection of humans so far was only linked to Yona's well-being, that's why, if anything, Yona returning to earth would actually coerce them into maintaining their devine protection out of fear for her safety.

4- by returning to earth, Yona isn't severing all ties with the gods. She can go back to heaven and negotiate a contract whenever she wants thanks to the chalice and a drop of her own blood. Far from "abandoning" her people to certain death, she's giving herself the opportunity to assess the situation firsthand. Is this "devine protection" really necessary? Would its absence really affect the country in an irreversible way? Can't the people actually work through this crisis hand in hand and overcome it? After all, nothing guarantees the images shown by the gods are real, or much absolute. Yona has already defied fate: saving Hak from Zeno's attack, and seeking out the dragon worriers to prevent his death, proving that nothing is set in stone, and that you can change the future through analysing the current situation to decide on the best course of action

5- Kouka isn't facing "immediate" destruction. The sun didn't disappear, it merely got veiled by clouds, much like in winter. People are able to walk down the streets without using torches or candles. While Photosynthesis may decrease, crops will not wither overnight. Kouka also ought to have its own food reserves for similar crises. It also now posses several vassal states that could help providing food and housing for the most affected areas.  This leaves enough time to evaluate the situation and decide on the best conduct to adopt

6- The fundamental problem remains that the gods are apathetic to humans. They're unable to relate to them, and often minimise their suffering. Yona's return to heavens won't be more than a fleeting remedy to a lasting problem. As the protagonist of the story and Hiryuu's reincarnation, Yona ought to treat the problem at its root and find a way to bridge the gap between gods and humans, eventually making a contract that cannot be broken. Can this be achieved through surrendering yourself to vicious fickle beings? What was Akatsuki no Yona about all along? Was it a story praising self sacrifice and martyrdom as the absolute form of strength, selflessness and generosity? Or was it a story about struggling through the mud, relying on your actions, efforts and choices to shape your outcome? About challenging injustice, resisting fate and finding alternative paths? Which of these best describe Yona's actions in this chapter? Think about it, and find your answer.

[acesw]

Deep Analysis — 2.6 Poster

Hello everyone! As you can tell this is a post meant for the CN Spoiler audience. While the tags will be seen, same rules apply: If you're in any way sticking to global patches, I'd suggest not looking into this thread until way later. For any CN enjoyers, have fun!

*Placeholder for spoilers

I've also begun using both tumblr and twitter interchangeably so that I can manage the distribution of both GLB and CN Lore posts. The thread version of this post is here.

Deep Ch. 9 Poster Analysis: Folie et Déraison

Welcome! As of today (18/02/25), Bluepoch has released the poster for 2.6, and there are a lot of cryptic implications in this poster than I expected.

The formatting and amount of images here will be limited due to me being limited to my phone to write at the moment, but I will link specific parts of my twitter thread to be able to show the other images missed. Let's not dwell on my antics for longer and let's get started.

1. Title and Artwork

A. Title

"Folie et Déraison: Historie de la Folie" is a 1961 book written by Michel Foucault. The book describes how madness has evolved over the course of history from the middle ages to the 18th Century.

B. The Main Cast

Recoleta (Ficciones)

Aleph

Vertin

Sonetto

The Idealist

The Physician

Dores

C. The Poster's Main Elements

The entire poster represents 3 main figures: the panopticon/prison, a skull-like head showing the layers of the mind, and 3 inner humanoid shapes that show the depth of the panopticon.

D. Art Style

While I can't distinguish the exact form (ironic coming from an art student), this art style definitely uses Doodle/Scribble as a part of the drawing while also integrating the use of word art to reinforce the shape and message.

The way the lines are drawn are in a manner that makes it: hasty, jagged, sharp, and rough. It's meant to give that feeling of uneasiness, and express the desperation and mania founded in a decline in one's psychological health.

E. The Red Path

The red line represents paths and depth, with the addition of showing a hexagon-like shape in the middle and ladders across each layer. It also crosses over the key phrases, coincidentally symbolizing the shackles of the outermost figure.

F. Key Figures

The key phrase in this poster is "Our Mind Is a Prison," repeated all over the poster and being one of the leading mediums of the head shape. In the image below, it specially reads as "Our Mind Is a Prison," cycling into "A Prison of our Mind."

G. The Figures

As said earlier, there are three figures within the panopticon/head. The outermost figure encompasses the two others, the middle figure is shown to be in a sitting/dejected position, and the innermost figure is in a fetal position, protecting the hexagon shape.

H. The Description

"A place of exile for prisoners,

Countless fervent poems and ideals!

Countless illusions entwined into a labyrinth?

Countless versions of "you" drifting within...

Infinite possibilities lie hidden here,

And we have come for them."

-Merui's translation

2. Implied Symbolisms

A. Mental Spiral — With the ongoing themes of madness and illusions, and the key phrase, it's fitting that the poster shows a mental spiral and an interpretation of the "prison of your own mind" metaphor.

B. Labyrinth and Identity — Adding to the mental spiral symbolism, the panopticon is shown as a labyrinth. It can represent how difficult it is to navigate one's understanding of themselves and others. It adds to the complexity of interpersonal relationships and personal identity.

C. Death and Burial — My friend pointed out that the yellow scribbles that show the outermost layer of the prison can be interpreted as a grave. The head also shows a deliberately-placed hole that looks like an eye socket.

D. Pregnancy (and motherhood) — The outermost figure is shown to be encompassing the other two figures, while the innermost is in a fetal position. Here, it can imply pregnancy and likely the chapter's ties to Vertin and Urd (Dores), and their likely connection to each other. Additionally, someone pointed out that the figure in the fetal position looks like Vertin's body position in the profile screen!

3. The Main Cast

Recoleta and Aleph - Recoleta (Ficciones) and Aleph are both the main featured characters for this chapter, being described to be players of a "cruel game" (via Merui's translation of the broadcast description). Here in these posts, you'll find an analysis for both characters + the implications of the name "Recoleta."

It's likely that the two of them are either prisoners of the panopticon, or those who join Vertin and Sonetto in venturing deep in the labyrinth. They will definitely have some interesting stories to share.

Vertin and Sonetto - Speaking of which, Vertin and Sonetto are in the chapter together as a duo again; it's the first time since 1.2! This might be a chance for their individual characters and their relationship to be explored once again.

Many things between them are still left unsaid, and I would really want to see how this chapter will affect their relationship and understandings of each other. We might get a further glimpse of their origins too, who knows!

Dores - While we don't know who The Idealist and The Physician are, we definitely know who Dores is. What she went through to come back in this chapter, we don't know yet, but it can be assumed that she's imprisoned in this panopticon, and we will have a glimpse of her as a person.

4. Story Links and Initial Expectations

A.

Folie et Déraison is the 9th Chapter of the Main Series and a direct continuation from 2.4 (Last Evenings on Earth), taking place after Igor's betrayal and Dores' kidnapping in Ch. 8, and the artificial "Storm" experiment in 2.4.

Taking place in Ushuaia, Argentina, it can be assumed that the story will be set in the now-former Ushuaia Prison, which is a prison based on the design of a radial panopticon. This chapter will also be set in 1991 via the timeline, making it a few months after Ch. 8.

I'm assuming that the prison here is being used as a temporary Manus base, where Dores is being kept during the time that she had remained hostage by Igor and the Manus Vindictae by extension. The fact that Vertin and Sonetto are going by themselves is already scary enough, but I'm sure they'll be able to push through.

B.

The chapter will once more go into psychological themes, exploring the mind of oneself and "madness" as a concept. In that case, the main story—alongside Ficciones and Aleph's characters—will definitely deal with heavy and disturbing themes as well.

With the cast, we will definitely explore Dores/Urd as a character. With the line "countless versions of 'you' drifting within," we might see the story solidify her identity as Urd; which may bring a confirmation about her previous identities and her relationship with Vertin.

We'll also see two paths that will finally cross each other after too long. Besides that, there will definitely be a lot of reveals and new questions will be made, which is what I'm really hoping for.

5. Last Notes

This chapter definitely makes me excited. This poster is insanely done well and I really appreciate how cryptic it looks while it sets the message outright. The words are likely handwritten, so I applaud the art direction for that.

Aside from the anxiety over the PV and character design, I really have high hopes for this story and how it will push the plot forward. Thanks for reading and lets have fun theorizing for the rest of the week!

[deliciousangelfestival]

Another part to Rain and Umbrella? Please lovely ☕️🍪

Of course sweetie

Only The Lonely - By Your Side

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: After Bucky saw you crying and listened to your problems, he gave you something as an answer.

Genre: Romance, Action, Comedy, Slice Of Life

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way I publish my book Arrogant Ex Husband in Kindle. 👉 Now available on e-Kindle Amazon! << here's the link.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

"I'm not okay," you admitted, your voice trembling as you sat on the floor, clutching the mug of hot chocolate. Its warmth seeped into your hands, a small comfort against the coldness inside you. "I’ve been hiding for so long that I’ve forgotten who I used to be."

Bucky leaned against the wall, his arms crossed but his eyes soft. He didn’t push you, just let the silence sit between you until you were ready.

"I want to leave everything behind," you continued, your gaze fixed on the swirling steam rising from your mug. "Before everything fell apart—before my brother drowned in debt and left me to clean up his mess—I was someone else. Someone happier."

Bucky tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing as he watched the pain etched into your features.

"I miss my friends," you admitted, your voice breaking. Running away had meant cutting ties with everyone who mattered.

Bucky didn’t say a word. Instead, he walked over and crouched down beside you. His presence was steady, and grounding.

Later, when you excused yourself to rest, Bucky stayed behind. You didn’t know then, but he had already decided to do something about your brother.

****

The next morning, you woke to find Bucky gone. A note rested on the coffee table, the words scrawled in his handwriting:

Be right back.

Your chest tightened as you read it, a mixture of hope and uncertainty swirling in your stomach. You went about your day, returning to work at the café.

"Where have you been?" one of your coworkers asked, concern flickering across their face.

You offered a vague smile, brushing it off with a simple, "I’m fine. Just needed some time."

As the day wound down and you closed up the café, you stepped outside and froze. There he was—Bucky—waiting for you.

"I want to show you something," he said, his voice calm but firm.

Back at his place, the air felt charged. Your heart raced as you stepped inside and saw a third person sitting in the middle of the room.

Your missing brother. Teddy.

He was tied to a chair, his eyes wide with fear. A muffled scream escaped his gagged mouth as he squirmed against the ropes.

"How did you find him?" you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked at Bucky.

He leaned casually against the wall, but there was steel in his voice when he replied, "He used a fake ID, changed his looks, and has been working as a fisherman."

Teddy thrashed again, but Bucky’s presence was unyielding.

Bucky walked over, his movements deliberate, and pulled the gag from Teddy's mouth.

“She paid the price instead of you,” he said coldly, his gaze piercing Teddy’s. “She’s suffered for three years because of your cowardice. Now, you’re going to pay back six times what you owe.”

“That’s more than I owe!” Teddy shouted, his voice shaky but defiant.

Bucky leaned closer, his jaw tightening. “That’s the price for what you’ve put her through. She ran, she hid, and she nearly lost everything because of you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The words you’d longed to hear—someone finally defending you—stunned you. Who would have thought that the stranger from the train could be the one to make you feel seen? In your darkest moment, you found the light in your problem. God knows.

Teddy’s bravado crumbled. His eyes darted nervously between you and Bucky. “I’ll pay,” he stammered. “I’ll pay back everything I owe her.”

Your knees nearly buckled from the shock. After years of struggling, hearing Teddy’s reluctant promise felt surreal. You glanced at Bucky, gratitude welling up in your chest.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

****

The next few days passed in a blur. You resigned and packed your belongings, ready to return to your hometown. It was time to reclaim the life you had left behind.

On the day of your departure, you stood on the platform at the train station, your heart heavy with bittersweet emotions. When you turned, there he was—Bucky.

As you stepped onto the train, you paused in the doorway and looked back at him. "Let’s meet again," you said, your voice steady despite the lump in your throat. A small smile played on your lips. "Next time, can you ask me for a date?"

Before he could respond, you leaned in and kissed him. His eyes widened, his body rigid in surprise, but his lips softened under yours.

The train door closed before either of you could say another word, but through the window, you could still see him.

His smile was enough to warm your heart, a silent promise in the way his lips curved and his eyes held yours.

He nodded, his answer clear even without words.

He will ask you next time.

And next time, both of you will step onto the train together, sitting side by side, whether to travel to new places or to return home. The journey wouldn’t matter because, for the first time in a long time, you wouldn’t be alone.

As the train began to move, you kept your eyes on him, and he did the same, his figure shrinking in the distance but never leaving your thoughts. You smiled to yourself, the beginning of something beautiful stirring in your chest.

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[its-luna-noel]

bellesa house

episode 1, satoru & you (sensual)

"Welcome to Bellesa House, where we let performers tell us who they want to have sex with and why." pornstar!jjk men x pornstar!reader

warnings: 18+, MDNI, f!reader, pornstar!au, older reader & younger gojo (like mid-30s and mid-20s respectively), based on bellesa house, sensuality, sensual porn

word count: 2.8k next: episode 2, suguru & you

masterlist | link to ao3

notes: hi there, here's another fic idea i just couldn't shake, based on bellesa house, a porn project w/ the above description. most scenes are split into one of three categories: sensual, passionate, or rough; so, each chapter will also be labeled as such! (if you're a porn person and haven't checked out bellesa, this is my psa). next up is geto:) thanks for reading!

You’re propped up in a bed with half a dozen pillows, dressed in blue lacy lingerie, staring down a camera on a tripod.

It’s something you’ve done hundreds of times.

You give the camera your performer name, offering a coy little smile that’s become your signature. You’ve been doing porn for years now, and when the production team came to you to pilot a new concept – to play house with another performer of your choosing – you, of course, chose Satoru Gojo.

A young buck on the scene, he’s only been in a couple dozen videos total, but he’s already the new heartthrob at the studio, with his big, charming smile and pretty blue eyes. You’ve heard he’s good, too, fantastic on camera and a sweetheart off it.

Satoru chose you because he thinks you’re hot.

Hey, he’s always had a thing for older women, and he knows you’re not that much older than him, but it still makes him hard to think of what you could do with all that experience. It also feels good to know you want to fuck him too as he climbs into the bed for his own interview.

“So,” begins the director, smiling past the camera to the young rising star on the bed, “how are you feeling, knowing the first time you meet your co-star will be here on camera?”

Satoru shrugs his muscular shoulders, smiling a little. “It’s not that different from what I usually do; most of the time we meet on set and an hour later we’re in the middle of a scene. So, I’m not too uncomfortable with it.”

“How does it feel to be working with an industry favorite?”

He chuckles, then, his smile growing as he lowers his eyes, playing almost bashful. “That’s a little more intimidating, I guess. Obviously I’ve seen her work; I just hope I can live up to the great stuff she puts out.”

The video cuts to your interview, to your teasing smile at the camera as you lean back casually against the pillows, looking decadent in your lingerie. The director speaks again from behind the camera, “So, when we bring him in here, do you think you guys will talk, will you get straight to it…?”

You hum thoughtfully, that same smile still curling your lips as you tilt your head. “The young ones are always so eager to get started and skip the awkward introductions, so I’m guessing we’ll just dive in. But who knows! Maybe he’ll surprise me.”

“Alright, well, the next time that door opens, he’ll be coming in, and you guys can do whatever you want!” Your director gives you a supportive thumbs up from behind the camera; she trusts you to make whatever you do together good. You’ve never let her down before. Then, “Action!”

The sleek white door swings open, and there stands Satoru, feigning a casual air with his hands in the pockets of his joggers. He’s got that smile on his face, and you can’t help but return the expression as you wave him in encouragingly. “Hi!” you greet enthusiastically, propping yourself up on your knees on the bed.

Your comforting air seems to put him a little more at ease; he walks in, easing himself onto the edge of the bed beside you. His pretty blue eyes take in the set of lingerie you’re wearing – something that matches those eyes. You look amazing, so fucking sexy he’s already growing hard at the sight of you. Then he looks back up at your face, finding you still smiling, and he smiles back before leaning in slightly. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says softly, and you both giggle a little, clearly letting your nerves run a little higher now that you’re meeting each other for the first time.

You lean in, too, still laughing softly, until your nose brushes his. “Nice to meet you, too,” you whisper, and then you part your lips, inviting him to meet you halfway.

He does, his lips pushing against yours, already hard and desperate. You can tell he’s still a little nervous, diving right in instead of pacing himself for the camera, and so you put a gentle hand on the side of his face, fingers stroking the strong line of his jaw. You’re trying not to intimidate him, but that’s hard when you have over a thousand videos under your belt and he has maybe 20. He feels your touch and understands, wants to follow your lead, so he tries to shake himself and slow down.

It’s just a scene, doesn’t matter that she’s the sexiest and most experienced co-star he’s ever had.

His lips slow against yours, now taking the time to taste your mouth, your minty fresh breath and the berry chapstick you have on. Your tongue is phenomenal, slipping against his with practiced ease as you lick into his mouth, and he licks right back with the vitality and enthusiasm of a young performer.

You’ve almost forgotten what that spark feels like. A similar one, after years of being dormant, flares to like deep in your belly.

You kiss for a couple minutes before you let your hand wander from the side of his face, down his neck, to his torso. His chest and belly are muscular under his t-shirt, and you can feel every subtle tightening of those muscles while you touch him. His hands follow, coming to rest on your bare arms, bringing you closer to his body. You arch your back, curving into his chest while he continues to kiss you, and then you move your touch from his belly down to the hard bulge in the front of his sweatpants.

You can tell by feel that he’s one of the bigger men you’ve worked with.

He lets you touch him unhindered for a few moments before he brings his own fingers down to stroke between your thighs, feeling a spreading wetness on the thin fabric of your panties. You both focus on heavy petting for a while, getting each other aroused while your mouths continue moving against each other.

You have to hand it to him; he’s good at what he does.

Once you’re finally wet and feeling ready to take the scene further, you gently push him backwards onto the bed, crawling over him until you’re straddling his hips. You pull away from the kiss enough to smile down at him, and he smiles back, seeming dazzled by you as you dip your fingers into the elastic waistband of his joggers. You pull those down first, and he helps you get them free of his ankles before you toss the fabric aside onto the floor.

You can see the imprint of his dick against his boxers, and now you’re pretty sure he’s one of the biggest you’ve seen. It’s a pleasant surprise; no wonder he’s a rising star on the scene.

You lean forward, pressing your cheek to his thigh, nuzzling playfully and grinning up at him. “You ready?” you ask, for his benefit, knowing it’ll be edited out in post.

He chuckles quietly, and your tummy flutters at the sound; he’s got a good laugh, too. He brushes your hair into one hand, gently guiding your mouth towards the straining bulge of his cock. “Ready,” he confirms.

You grip the waistband of his tight, Calvin Klein boxer briefs and slowly, achingly, pull them down his legs.

You let yourself take a good look as you toss aside the fabric, assessing how much work you’ll have to put in; a lot, is the answer. He’s massive, long and pink and beautiful. Mouthwatering. You’re practically drooling as you settle between his legs and, glancing up at him through your lashes, let your tongue slip out from between your lips and take a taste.

He lets out a soft sigh, eyes watching your every move as you start licking his tip, short little laps that drive him crazy. His hand tightens in your hair, just enough to signal to you that he’s ready.

Or, he thought he was.

When you lean in and take him in the hot, wet cavern of your mouth, he’s already seeing starts at how fucking good your tongue feels swirling around his head. You bring your hands up and grip the base of his cock, squeezing lightly, before you take him a little deeper.

Satoru can’t hold back moans so whiny it’s almost pathetic; you’re sucking him off so well, both hands stroking his length slowly as your mouth bobs over his blushing tip, cheeks hollowed like you want to suck him dry. Then you move your hands and dive down until he’s shoved as far down your throat as you can take, staying there for a moment as your throat closes down around him on every side. His head drops back to the pillows as he lets out another whine, and then you pull back, hands coming back to his base as you suck the tip.

It feels so fucking good that he’s scared he’s gonna cum already.

So he pulls you off of him, guiding you down onto your belly on the bed. “Arch for me,” he murmurs in your ear, and you do, back arched so beautifully that he can’t wait to watch the tape on his own time and screenshot this pose for him to keep. He grabs the back of his shirt and yanks it off, leaving his muscular body on display for the cameras as he pushes your lacy blue panties to the side, arousal already drenching the thin fabric and sticking it to your pussy.

He hums in delight at the sight of your gorgeous folds, and he leans in, pressing a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your lower lips, like he’s making out with your cunt from behind. You let out a moan into the mattress, arching further to force your hips back into his face. He grins against you before grabbing the flesh of your hips, holding you in place while he pushes deeper, past your outer folds to lick a line of heat from your clit to the lower corner of your pussy. Then he moves his mouth back to your clit, his nose bumping against the wet entrance to your cunt while his tongue laps greedily at it. His hands move down to grab the fat of your ass, thumbs spreading you apart to expose you more to his mouth and eyes while he eats you out from the back.

You’re making such delicious noises, not just for the camera, but because his mouth is just that good. He hums again, this time with your clit against his tongue, before he takes the swollen bundle between his lips and sucks softly. Your hips jolt against his face, and he lets go with a lewd pop, before flicking his tongue over your clit again, taking his time to work you up towards your orgasm.

“Oh my god…” you breathe, lashes fluttering as your eyes close to the ecstasy. “Feels so good…”

“Yeah?” he mumbles into your cunt, eyes closed, too, as he tastes how fucking sweet you are. “Want something to cum on?”

You moan at his words, hips bucking backwards again, like you’re trying to chase down your high… He pulls away before you can get there, grinning cheekily when you whimper. “Aww,” he croons, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before grabbing your hips and rolling you over onto your back, “it’s okay. I’ll make you cum; I promise.”

“You better,” you tease back, reaching up to slide the straps of your bodysuit off your shoulders and down your arms, pooling the lace around your waist, “or I’ll be very disappointed in you.”

He takes the fabric the rest of the way off, still grinning as he looks at your perfect body, one he’s seen in dozens of videos with his hand wrapped around his own cock, making himself cum to the sound of your moans. It’s a dream come true to be filming with you, and he lets himself remember that fact before he leans over you, reaching down to align himself with your dripping, fluttering entrance. He glances into your eyes for a moment, checking that you’re alright, and the look in your eyes is such a clear affirmative that he can’t hold back anymore.

He pushes inside you slowly, both of you letting out soft, broken moans in unison as he sheaths himself in you.

Then, once he’s fully seated inside you, your cunt squeezing around him, so wet and warm and fucking perfect, he pulls back and starts to fuck you slowly, sensually.

He grabs your thighs and wraps them around his hips, and your heels press into his ass with every thrust, holding him that much closer, that much deeper. He groans, lips parted as he pants softly, his hips rocking in smooth, fluid motions.

Your lips are parted, too, as you reach down to rub your clit with the pads of your fingers, drawing aching circles– Satoru bumps your hand away and takes over for you. “Let me,” he pants, watching your reaction as your head falls back against the pillows with another moan. He groans at the sight and leans in, placing soft, adoring kisses to the column of your throat, to the edge of your jaw, to the curve of your cheek… All the while rubbing those perfect circles on your clit.

Your pussy is starting to clench around him. “Oh my god,” you whine, throwing your head back, and the performance isn’t even for the cameras anymore, it’s for him, to let him know how good he’s making you feel. Every thrust puts him right at your g-spot, and his fingers have the perfect pressure on your clit, a catastrophic combination of sensations that’s quickly sending you towards the edge. “Please don’t stop.”

He keeps kissing towards the corner of your mouth. “Cum for me,” he says, and then he presses his lips to yours, claiming your tongue with his as he fucks you through your orgasm. You moan and whine into the kiss, your cunt clenching and spasming around his cock, and he groans against your mouth at the feeling of you sucking him even further inside you.

Fuck, he’s not gonna last like this.

So he rolls you over onto your tummy again, even though your legs are still weak and shaky from your climax, and presses you down into the mattress with gentle hands. He spreads your legs for you, angling your hips right where he wants you, and then he leans over your body, palms planted firmly on either side of your shoulders to hold his weight above you before he starts rocking back into your perfect fucking pussy.

His shoulders are heaving with the effort to hold back, to not cum after two seconds like this, but his eyes are trained on how your ass conforms to the shape of his hips with every thrust, and the curve of your back looks like the perfect bullseye for his cum–

He groans, pulling out before he can accidentally empty himself inside you. Then he strokes himself, his hand pumping over the wet, sensitive head of his cock as he stares at your fluttering pussy, wishing he could’ve cum there– maybe next time– With a choking sound and breathless moans, he watches pearly ropes of his seed shoot out over the smooth skin of your back.

When he catches his breath, he can’t help but pull up short. Wait, next time??

~

Once you’re showered and dressed in street clothes again, walking out of the studio with your bag over your shoulder, you hear a familiar voice behind you. “Hey! One sec.”

You turn, a smile already on your face as you recognize Satoru’s voice. His hair is still wet from his shower, too, hanging damp in front of his shining eyes. “Hey,” you respond, smiling as he walks over. “Great job today. You’ve got a great career ahead of you, you know.”

“I know,” he says, not arrogantly, just as a fact. But he doesn’t want to talk about that now. He looks a little nervous as he shifts from one foot to the other. “I just wanted to say thanks for…choosing me to work with you today. I had a lot of fun.”

Your smile spreads a little wider. “Me, too,” you tell him, and then you turn your back, because you’re already late for dinner with your friends. “See you around!”

“Wait!” he calls again, and you stop, surprised. You turn and blink up at him.

“Uh, this might sound dumb…but can I get your number?”

thanks for reading! -luna xx link to ao3 | next: suguru & you

[linksfunroadtrip]

Link's Fun Commentary - Prologue!

+ sailor design commentary. link's fun extra

Twilight Field, War of Eras...

Sailor starting in Hyrule Warriors and being dropped immediately into Shepherd's era is actually the second pitch for the beginning of the comic, the very First pitch being the first two pages of chapter 1.

More than anything we just wanted to get it done, but we didn't really know what we were doing . We cobbled together a custom font and got right to it. My Fun Facts: All the grass is the same image reused over and over except for when it isn't . Literally all of the smoke was just repeated/moved around. We didn't even really know how to use gradients effectively...

... Which can be seen in these next two panels. LOL.

The work split on this batch set a precedent for sure. @islandlobster took up lining and flat colors, and had the Hard Job of harmonizing our styles, processes, and experiments. Do you see a lot of small, long-form comics with grainy, textured line-art? Maybe no? Well we found out why.

These panels also feature the Only Two Triforces we remembered to draw !!! Oh My God!!!

As much as we struggled, things moved pretty quick from the get-go. Since the prologue is only a handful of pages we didn't really run into the issues we would with chapter 1, especially regarding our complete and utter lack of script. This went straight from thumbnailing to the final result!! (NOT A SUSTAINABLE WAY TO DO A GROUP PROJECT...!)

I wanted to mention though that when I wrote the line above, I wasn't sure if this was how you would spell it for like . a Soldier Troop or a Performance Troupe. Which I just looked up now and found out I Absolutely got them mixed up. so umm. Sorry. Sailor is not in the circus yet.

Cia was just defeated in the main campaign! I felt like such a smart cookie for this one.

She doesn't even know she wont be going home yet‼️ laughing and pointing ‼️

It was an Early idea that Sailor would conveniently miss the time portal transporting the field (with her in it!) back to its era. This was supposed to be a reoccurring bit, but we didn't commit to it too hard going forward, so who's to say if that'll be realized.

The pirate charm plays a big role in the prologue. A little funny because we were absolutely sick to death of drawing it by the end, as well as the fact that it is there in lieu of her red-gem necklace that we forgot to draw. it is Welcome and Unfortunate that it doesn't work anymore, especially because having the chance to name drop like this was very indulgent.

The era of twilight ! Including the locations and times was in the original sketches, but when we found out that our inexperience with backgrounds wasn't lending itself to establishing Where we were, it came in handy. We Agonized over placing the castle and argued* for like a week about how forested the area should be. Luckily we use noclip now, so things have improved as we've moved into chapter 2 :]

Either way, hopefully it wasn't too confusing, and as we introduce new characters the picture will be clearer. We've talked a little bit about returning to the prologue to spiff it up a bit, but we feel we aren't far enough into the comic to make it worthwhile.

and now over to Pea with the weather:

my name is pea islandlobster and you can't tell that it's me because we are writing on the same post but trust okay 🤞 I am here to talk about SAILOR!!!

Sailor has been my baby brainchild before LFRT was even a blip in our minds eye (my proof) and it has been a beautiful indulgence for me to both put her in AND have her be the first Link we meet. YAY!

I have two designs for her, for which I have helpfully made a diagram just for you..! Labeled and everything..!

A: pheww my big one that I have been sitting on forever. Sailor's necklace was constructed over the course of her adventure, initially only having her red gem (given to her by King Daphnes, from his own crown). Four pearls were later added, parting gifts from Oshus and the three spirits. Also intended to mirror the three Goddess pearls from Wind Waker..! and an extra yellow one i guess. triforce? idk

B: Sailor's chipped tooth is a funny one that I will have to make a small comic about at some point. It's not even anything from her adventure. A couple years before WW, Aryll was pretty upset about losing her first tooth, and in typical Link fashion she thought the best way of comforting her was to ALSO lose a tooth. Grandma was not happy.

C: Most Links have a triforce mark, and each one we are giving a reason towards ^.^ Sailor's mark is entirely scar tissue, specifically it is hypertrophic. She held her triforce for only a few days and got it (maybe quite literally) ripped from her by Ganondorf, so take that as you will. Tetra and her are matching yayyy..!

D: Giving her hero outfit it's own section so I can tuck it out of the way lol. A modified version of her original hero outfit, courtesy of shipmate Nudge (guy in the top left). She was a little upset over having to alter Grandma's hard work, but she preserved it where she could. Like her seashell belt! ^_^

E: SIDEBURNS! Not present in the prologue because it has been a recent development but I figured it was worth bringing up. During WoE, as she grows her hair, her sideburns resemble little lobster claws. Cute! In LFRT as grown out as it is, I thought making them swirly as a reference to pretty much every cloud/wind effect used in WW lol.

From a combination of outgrowing stuff and missing home, Sailor was christened with Lobster Shirt 2.0 as we know and love today. Who made it for her? I dunnooo..... let's sit and think about this one.

Phewww. This was a long one - and no doubt the next will be longer - but this is all for now! Feel free to send any questions you might have ^.^ Thank you for all the support! Chapter 2 part 2 soon!