#part of a secret cult? check

[lunamond]

RIP Olympias of Macedon

Myrtale would have loved Alicent hightower and Lady Jessica.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Alley Boyfriends Part 2

It turns out pretending to be a fake boyfriend involved more planning than Danny had realized was necessary.

Personally, he was thinking he would occasionally be asked to hold Tim's hand in semi-public, tell people about maybe three or four fake dates, and be done with it.

Tim, on the other hand, created a backstory that would make any Dungeon Master weep in complicated worldbuilding joy.

"Why would we keep our relationship a secret?It has to be a valid reason for why we meet in a back alley most of the time but still go out in public to eat." Tim asked him, three notebooks spread around him. All three were written in code, but once they finished creating the tale to his preference, Tim planned on burning them.

Cause that was something people in Gotham did. He wasn't even joking. One of his coworkers invited him to a journal-burning just last week. He went to see what it was about, turns out it was this cities verson of a block party. There were a lot of little groups hudled around movaible fire pits, throwing in paper, laughing and drinking and just being merry.

He checked online to ensure he hadn't accidentally joined a cult. He hadn't; Gotham was just like that.

"I'm from the Midwest—a small town in the Midwest. Maybe I'm not out yet?" Danny suggests with a shrug, slumping in his chair to get comfortable.

Tim snaps his fingers at him with a manic light in his eyes. "That's brilliant. We'll have to go through all your social media to screen for any hints of you being in the alphabet mafia. Now, why would you worry about being spotted four states away? Internalized homophobia?"

Danny shrugs, watching Tim consider his notes, flipping between pages on all three notebooks. Apparently, to ensure their cover story worked, Tim needed to have a notebook dedicated to three themes. The first was their Mental choices—such as a profile of their personalities both before and after their "dating," when they fell in love, and how their upbringing affected them in romantic relationships.

Physical choice—such as how many times they held hands and where the dates were, their attraction types in the pshycal sense, and where they met.

Finally, there weres the Narrative choices—these were people outside their couple. Who saw what, when, and how?. Social media was in there.

"No. That doesn't make sense." Tim sighs showing him the Narrative one. On it are a jamble of words, written so tiny, even if they were noraml Danny would not understand them. "See? Your online humor is about thirty percent gay. Not to mention you've been to Pride in Gotham already."

Tim taps the other notebook, where, supposedly, he is gesturing to the proof of Danny being too comfortable in gay spaces to have internalized homophobia. Danny wonders why he needs this much information, and who the hell would look so far into their fake realtionship.

Once again he wonders who Tim is. Oh, he's been making coffee for the other for days now. Always having his travel mug ready to go at seven am sharp for the other to pick up in the Alley, and had texted him for quick meet ups to trade Heart Attak Coffee.

Sometimes they would send funny memes to each other, and ask eachother about their day. They messaged but it waswn't really deep.

It's also been too late to ask Tim for his last name. It would be embarrassing to admit he either forgot when the other told him or he forgot to ask. His mother would be horrified by his manners.

"It would be sense if we were closer to your hometown, but this would barely hold up against my employees, much less the family." Tim sighs taking a long sip of his coffee. At once, Danny watches his whole body relax, and his eyes light up.

He wonders about that too. Tim reacted to Heart Attack coffee like a ghost interacting with their Obsession.

Tim isn't dead or died from what Danny can tell, but he had obvious signs of death around him. Not enough to be liminal like Jazz, so he wasn't ecto-exposed nor haunted.

He has likely just been in many life-threatening situations. Danny had noticed back in Amity that people like firefighters, military, police officers, and the like- those whose entire jobs meant putting themselves at risk- had the sense of Death gently curling around them. Almost like a flirtation.

He seen a lot more people like that in Gotham, though ussally they were on the opposite side of the previous named workers and he realized that Tim had to be involded in something.

Something big, if the nice suits, expensive coats, countless flowers, tips, and free lunches were any indication. Should he be worried about being in a fake relationship with him?

"Oh! We're a secret because this is both of our first boyfriends!" Tim cheers after a moment. "We are both worried about two different things. I don't want to mess things up due unresolved attachment and abandonment issues not to mention my terrible self-worth and communication skills."

That.....is terrifying self-aware. Danny can only stare as Tim nods his head, flipping some pages and writing more notes down. He switches between green and blue ink pens whenever he is writting so he knows which note applies to who.

Danny thinks he's green.

"You, on the other hand, have a mix of fear of your family finding out, terrible self-esteem due to years of bullying, and fear of commitment. I think we both can play off feeling that if we can't be of use to people, they will leave us mentality, so we never set up proper boundaries just to be safe." Tip pauses, tapping the pen to his bottom lip, eyes focused intensely on his work.

There is a hint of....ghost in his eyes, gleaming just behind his humanity.

He is Ghost King, which means he does not control or know when someone dies, as that is out of his jurisdiction. Not everything that dies becomes a ghost, just like not every ghost has ever lived after all.

In fact, not all of his citizens were humans to begin with or came from humans.

He had command of demons, in the same sense that he did concepts like Time (Clockwork) because they were between Realms. The ones that fell between the cracks of the fabric of worlds were Danny's.

Still, he came to recognize that someone had the potential to be one when their time came. Tim was most definatily a ghost in the making.

That left the question. What would be his Obsession once Tim finished forming?

Something directly involved in his death like Box Ghost (Crushed by a box due to his co-workers' careless prank?) Or something he felt he should have been given in life like Young Blood (Too sick to enjoy his childhood like other children and resentful of neglectful parents who ignored his pain?)

Danny tried to picture it, but they could see a glowing figure racing about wanting coffee and being unnecessarily involved with event planning.

Then again, he thinks, watching as Tim takes small glances at him as if making sure he is still there. He might be Obsessed with routines and being needed by people.

It wasn't really about the lack of caffeine. Instead, it was about the fact Heart Attack Coffee had been a comfort since childhood. Tim needed to feel like he was in control. Danny noticed that the second the other had burst into tears after being denied the coffee.

It was like taking Ember's guitar. His soul had dimmed. That's why Danny gave it to him while carefully checking to ensure Tim wasn't being Overshadowed. If he was, then he would kick the ghost's ass in the alley, away from wandering eyes.

He shivers again when a coldness from his chest zips across his limbs. Ever since Danny developed his ice core, he felt that he had been susceptible to the cold. He still remembers the day his core formed, how he was shivering in the summer to Sam's and Tucker's confusion.

He often found himself piling on scarves and sweaters, even when outside of winter.

Gotham wasn't nearly as cold as Amity Park- they would get a lot of snow compare to here- but it didn't seem to matter to his core.

He gets up to drag over the space heater and figures he may as well get some hot chocolate. His stomach growls, reminding him food would be a good idea, too. "You want something to eat Tim?"

There is a grunt that he learned meant "Yeah, I can eat" from Tim's hunched-over form. He smiles, grabbinghe throw blanket to wrap around himself.

His apartment wasn't too bad considering it was close to Crime Alley. It was odd and a bit outdated, but it was enough space for one person, the hot water lasted longer, and there was no mold or break-ins.

It nearly made up for the fact the walls were paper thin, which did nothing to keep the bitter Jack Frost out; his landlord shut off the heat a few weeks ago for "maintenance" and did not turn it back on.

According to his neighbors, he always does so to save funds. It sucked, but none of them could afford to move away, Danny included.

It would be bearable if Danny's insides weren't literally freezing.

He starts to cook a nice warm soup, chopping up some chicken and noodles, mindful of Tim's continued muttering in the background. It's nice, like having his own white noise machine.

A second wave of ice-ice cold races over his body. Danny glances at Tim, but it seems the other had gotten comfortable near his space heater, and it would be rude to take it across the room just because he was cold when his guest was already using it.

Maybe he'll buy a second one at the second-hand store on his next paycheck. He watches his soup boil as he adds some spices for flavoring, curling in on himself as the throw blanket seems to not be warming him fast enough.

He hates when he gets cold fits like this. They don't happen as often now that he pratice with his ice core but they effect his human side the longer he goes without ising his ice powers.

In a anti-meta city like Gotham he just hasn't found a safe place to do that yet.

Danny's hands ache from the trembles running through them- he slips on some gloves, trying to squeeze warmth back into it. He then goes across the room to the hooks by the wall after giving in, there he puts on a scarf, his coat and a beanie so his ears can warm up too.

"Are you cold?" Tim asks as Danny returns to the stove

Danny laughs from where he is stirring the soup. It is such an understatement he can't do anything else. "Freezing."

"Why not turn up the heat?"

"Landlord shut it off." Danny shrugs at Tim's look of disbelief. "It's okay I've gotten used to it. Just need to make a nest of clothes later to warm up. Soup will help too."

"Does he shut off your heat often enough that you've gotten used to it?" Tim's voice is strangely flat. Danny shrugs.

"He shuts off stuff, like the AC and electricity all the time. A month ago, he shut off the water; that was a rough two weeks." Danny jokes, thinking of how often he had to use the public bathrooms at the library to brush his teeth; he showered in the community gym. He tells Tim this. "Thank the Ancients for the Waynes. If it wasn't for them funding the gym, library, and laundry mat I probably would have it worse"

Tim stares at him for a long minute. Without a word, he reaches for his work laptop, which lay close to the side in favor of the notebooks two hours ago.

Danny isn't sure what exactly Tim does for work—he isn't sure it's legal, so he reframes from asking—but he does know that recently, he has been over to Danny's apartment a lot more to hash out the details and doing remote work at the same time.

He boots it up, fingers flying over the keyboard at a speed that still impresses Danny, even after seeing him type for the past few days. Assuming he returned to work, Danny returned to his own task. He carefully pours them both two bowls- mindful of his gloves- and warms up the mild for their hot chocolates.

They are not the healthiest of combinations, but both boys are comfortable with odd food choices. He caries the tray back to the table, blaket dragging behind him.

Tim stares intensely at the screen, nodding thanks to him when he puts a bowl down by his hand. "What do you think of this?"

Danny glances at the screen and sees a really lovely penthouse. It's spacious, overlooking Gotham's diamond district with five rooms, two baths and even a boucany pool and hottub.

It screams money, with its large arched windows, dark carpet, and grey pillars. He even spots a grand piano in the living room. Danny whistles, "Damn, I would love to live there."

"Okay, it's yours," Tim says, clicking the chat box with the realtor. He types out a quick agreement for the purchase and opens another tab with his private banker and lawyers, commanding them to have the place ready for him in two days—all without reaching for his mouse. An agreement comes through before Danny can do anything other than gawk as Tim adds his name to the owner's list.

Tim seems unaware of Danny's flabbergasted look of awe as he taps into a few more tabs, researching cleaning crews and moving companies. "We can move you on your day off. The cleaners can help you pack if you need it while you're at work, and the moving crew can get it over the city for you. I'm also buying this place. It's ridiculous that he just shuts things off. "

Just who in the world is this guy!?

____________________________________________________

Across the city, Babs stares at Tim's online orders. She has been told to keep an eye on himbecause Jasons worries about his suspected drug problem.

Everyone in the family has been somewhat uneasy about the possibility. Babs will admit her heart broke when she found hours and hours of him meeting the same shady looking teenager entering the same back alley over and over again.

He always came out looking flustered and a bit jittery, and she also thought it wasn't a secret lover like Bruce and Dick had hoped. She had always been a least optimistic, and her cameras- even the ones she hacked into to review recorded surveillance for the past three showed her the ugly truth.

Tim was an addict.

She had been working on her letter for the intervention they would be holding for him, typing past her tears, when this popped up. She blinks and takes her glasses off to wipe them before checking to see if she is seeing correctly.

But nope, the words stay the same. She slowly reaches for her headset and clicks it on. At once, her ear overflows with various voices from everyone on the field.

Tim is the only one not out currently, but she can clearly see why.

"Tim just bought a penthouse for Danny Fenton. He also has two sets of cleaning crews, one to Fenton's address and one to his own. Two sets of moving crews have been added to both addresses, each ending at the same penthouse. He's going to be living with him," She announces, silencing everyone at once. "Does that sound like drug dealer behavior?"

"Omg," Dick cries at once. Relief and joy overlap his voice as he screams into the mics "Love wins!"

"Let's not celebrate too soon. We still have to figure out what the hell those alley meetings are about," Jason warns. "If it is a drug dealer, moving in together will be the worst thing possible to T."

"Agree. We prob him but carefully so he doesn't catch on." Bruce comands "Act as ussual to get as much information out of Tim."

"So.....we throw him a house warming/investation on his boyfriend party?" Steph asks the sound of wind accompanies her words. She is likely grappling towards Danny's apparment to check on Tim.

She has gotten the habit of doing so ever since Danny has been flagged by Jason. Steph has reported the same thing evertime. Tim seemed to just been doing work at Danny's table, drinking teas and cuddling together in front of Danny's cheap tv.

She thought it was all very domestic, even when her eyes tracked every movement Danny made. Of course she couldn't get too close least Tim would catch on.

"Exactly."

[viridwns]

Mannequin

TW: Forced relationship, non-consensual kissing/touching, Douma being aight?, mention of gore if you squint, also didn't check grammar or spelling :/

A/N: I am working on so many requests rn, I had to work on one of my own ideas (I saw a dress on pinterest and had to make a story out of it).

"You look like a goddess."

"So beautiful."

"She's ethereal."

"Only the best for Lord Douma."

"This shows too much skin!"

You look at yourself in the mirror, turning your body every whichway to assess the dress (or rather a piece of cloth) that has been put on you.

You felt naked.

Douma kidnapping you to his cult wasn't something new. Especially after he was sent out on a mission did he just long for alone time with you. His followers taking you, dressing you, doing your hair wasn't new to you either.

But being put in this?!

Yeah, this was something new.

They never put you in a dress so revealing.

It was a strapless dress, with sleeves flowing over your lower arm, attached with a silver chain to the main part. Your top was made out of the same silver. It barely covered your breasts. You hoped the thin closing around your neck wouldn't break. The silver was further attached to the bottom of your dress. A waistband sitting snug on your hips, a sheer cloth billowing from it, and stopping just above your ankles. Aside from your lower arms and from the waist down, you were without coverage. Your only shield that protected the outing of your breasts to the rest of the world was the flimsy silver chain wrapping around your upper half.

No way you were going to wear this in front of the demon who ripped apart countless of kimono's off you. He couldn't even see your figure in those. You don't want to find out what he'd do when you were practically bare.

You let your fingers trace the silver; these chains wouldn't even survive a slight tug from him.

"Our seamstress worked tirelessly on this. Researching the western culture without Lord Douma's knowledge was a difficult task. Plus the seamstress had to start over many times; the fabric is so flimsy it ripped multiple times!" A woman looked at you via the mirror with begging eyes. You felt a pang of guilt shoot through your gut at her words.

"It's not that I don't like it! it's the most beautiful piece of clothing I ever laid my eyes on. It's just that...It's so immodest!"

You turn your head away from the mirror, getting embarrassed from seeing your form in such a state in front of all these women.

Counter arguments started to bounce off the walls. You shook your head.

"I'm not going to prance around in nothing but see through fabric and chains!"

"You must! you're Lord Douma's spouse, send by God himself to keep him company-"

You waved your hands in an attempt to cut her off. You didn't need them to obsess over the made up story Douma fed them. You were not God send, and you were definitely not here to keep the demon company.

You wished you could tell them the truth, but that would only result in carnage; The pile of corpses Douma left for you to find serving as a efficient warning the first time he brought you here.

You were never going to tattle on his secret again.

The arguing continued, a hand already pressed on you shoulder so you would sit down.

"Just let me do your hair first okay? If you really don't like it we'll dress you in different clothing.

You reluctantly gave in. Knowing that their say was final anyway. You can't even remember the last time your opinion was taken into serious account.

It's always about pleasing the demons', never about what you would like.

You watched the skillfull hand of the woman behind you doing your hair in the dressing table mirror. She was braiding it into a crown around your head, letting the back stay the way it is. She intertwined some white roses into the braid; it looked like you were wearing a flower crown.

Even though you did find yourself pretty in these fancy clothes and hairstyles; you couldn't enjoy yourself. You were treated like a dress up doll for the demons', only being allowed to look pretty for them, never for yourself.

You had forgotten the giddy emotion you got when being gifted a new dress and twirling in it in front of the mirror for the first time.

Another sigh, another careless smile from one of the followers.

"You couldn't look more beautiful. Lord Douma will ravish in the sight of you." The women all agreed in unison, complimenting you on your beauty.

You turned around to face them, a small smile on your lips.

"I will make sure to praise your work in front of Douma." A wave of excited and thankful shrieks came over you.

Douma tended to let the women you like live longer so you can enjoy their company more when you're here. You had to mention them in front of him.

A male follower came rushing into the room. The women all forming a protective circle around you-you were only to be seen by Douma's eyes.

"It's almost sunset, come quick." He rambled, waving to everyone to come with him. Urgency laced his words.

It was time for Douma to give the message of the Lord to his people.

Prick.

You stood up, relief slowly eating away the nerves that had build up in your stomach.

Sunset also meant that Akaza could go outside and get you out of here.

One thing about Douma is that he never asked if he can take you with him, he just does.

And hell be upon him when the rest finds out you're missing, coincidentally at the same time Douma isn't present either.

Akaza is always the one to get you, even if he can't stand up against Douma, he somehow always gets Douma to give you over.

Maybe it's because of the threatening shadow of Kokushibo always leaning over Akaza from behind; piercing his three pair of eyes into Douma's soul (if he even had one, you were fairly certain he didn't).

You feel the corners of your lips tug upwards at the sight of Douma being beheaded.

Maybe if you puppy-dog-eye Muzan enough when you get back he'll take away Douma's mouth for a bit. You could use a bit of peace and quiet.

You didn't notice you were being lead to the main hall, so lost in your daydreams that you only noticed where you were when a heavy silence deafened your ears.

The hundreds of pairs of eyes staring at you, gaping at you, had you realize what you were wearing, or what you weren't wearing. Your arms slipped over your figure in an attempt to keep as much hidden as you could. Your futile attempt in creating a shield for yourself was met with two female followers grabbing both your hands and forcing them to your side, keeping you in place with their determination to show you to their Lord.

Your eyes were pinned forward, gaze focused on the tall figure slowly rising upright from his cushion.

Douma looked the same as he ever did. Same hair, same clothes, same cursed eyes and his trusty hat.

The only thing different was that his expression was...well not his usual 'grin'.

His eyes were wide, mouth closed. He was unreadable. You couldn't figure out what emotion he was wearing on his features.

You noticed his hands were in taut fists by his sides.

What was up with him?

"Douma?—"

That's when he stood up, rising to his full height. You swear you could feel the floor shake as he strode towards you.

You didn't—couldn't—move. Why was he so much more terrifying when not smiling?

The women let you go; getting on their knees as their Lord approached—heads touching the floor.

He didn't acknowledge any of them as he took your wrist in his hand. You saw his sharpened nails. bile climbed up your throat, you forced it down again as you swallowed.

Douma dragged you behind him, pace quick, eyes determined. You spluttered his name, trying to ask what was wrong. He was not himself, he never acted this way.

"Douma, what are you do-"

"Just shut up."

You were taken aback by his tone, shutting up immediately. He never had any emotion except for faux happiness in his voice. Now his tone was just empty, devoid of anything.

You could hear his heavy breathing as he took you outside. You spotted the white circle gifting the world with a guiding light in the darkness high up in the sky. It was a full-moon tonight.

Your eyes snapped to Douma as he stilled his movements. He shoved you in front of him, placing you in the holy glow of the moon. You faced him with confusion lining your features. You could not figure out what he was trying to do.

He took a few steps back; basking in the sight of you. He swallowed thickly. His eyes trailing slowly over you body, analyzing every dip, mole, crook, wrinkle, imperfection and perfection you had.

You looked like an angel in the heavenly glow of the nightlight. Douma couldn't stop inspecting you. When you walked into the hall, not wearing a kimono like always, he was put into a trance. He had never seen you wearing western clothing, and even though this was extreme and probably not accurate to the western style at all-he was captivated.

You had never looked more beautiful than you did at this moment. He wasn't used to emotions sizzling in his blood. He didn't know how to put the burning sensation in him out. For once he didn't want to throw you on a bed to eat you up to your very core, but he just wanted to take in you.

You played with the ends of your sleeves as you felt yourself getting smaller under Douma's multicolored gaze. You hated not knowing what to do, not being able to gauge the demon's feelings.

A snap of twigs made your head turn away from the stone-turning stare of Douma.

You sighed in relief.

"You bastard. You can't just take her with you! Not without Lord Muzan's permission! Love, you must've been te-."

Akaza stilled, his eyes met yours and slowly drifted over your body. You cocked your head.

Not him too.

"What are you wearing? What is she wearing?" He pointed an accusing finger to Douma,

"Doesn't matter, she is gorgeous."

You had to keep yourself upright form the whiplash Douma gave you with his words. He had never sounded to sincere, so soft.

Akaza walked over to you, his footfalls not heard. He was about to hold your hand when Douma spawned next to the two of you and gripped Akaza's hand in a bone-breaking grip. His muscles were bulging under his skin as he kept Akaza from touching you.

"Let her stay like this for a little." Douma never was serious with Akaza. Always letting the upper three do what he wanted. Akaza stopped all his actions. He knew Douma could kill him in seconds if he resisted him now.

"Douma I want to go. I don't feel comfortable." It was nerve-wrecking to break the tension. It was something you never dared to do, scared of loosing a limb if you did. The air was thick and if you had a knife you swore you could cut it.

Douma turned his focus towards you. Just like that you could breathe again, all tension leaving. It was like Douma realized that he had dropped his act.

You grimaced when his grin returned on his lips. You saw Akaza visibly relax when he did.

"Whatever you wish princess."

You looked at him with suspicion. He was never this easy to persuade. Usually he would whine for an hour before inevitably giving in.

Akaza shared a glance of doubt with you. He cautiously took your hand and within the blink of your eyes you were standing in the chaos of walls, lights, floors and stairs.

You felt light-headed, your stomach sloshing inside of you. This was never going to get easier.

You held Akaza's hand as you got your bearings, slowly pushing away the nausea and pressure that was building in your head. If it wasn't for him you would buckle and fall.

"You okay? I don't understand how you aren't used to this yet." Akaza rubbed your back. You shot him a glare and released your hand out of his.

"What is she wearing?" You pursed your lips in annoyance as Kokushibo appeared in your line of sight.

"I'm getting out of this dress right now, don't worry about it." You snapped, done with this whole night already. Why were they all acting like you never dressed up before?

You were wearing a dress for the first time though...maybe that's what had them reeling like this.

"No, I like it. You look beautiful." The upper one stared down at you, his hand resting at your shoulder, slowly gliding down to your lower back as he assessed you.

"We should get you more dresses, and have Daki braid your hair more often." He mused. A shiver ran up your spine as his cold fingers kissed your skin.

"I don't feel comfortable in this. I am practically naked." You objected, looking up at Kokushibo through your lashes.

"Only bonus points if you ask me." Douma winked, his eyes dark with lust as he cocked his head with a cheeky smile.

It was like whatever happened a few minutes ago never did. He was back to his old self. Much to your relief and dismay.

"Stop acting like an animal in heat you idiot." Akaza sneered, but the dust of pink on his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by you.

"Which one of you took her out of the kimono I picked for her?" There it was. A voice, cold as ice, heavy as stone and threatening like a knife against skin.

Muzan was standing across from you. His head high, hands behind his back and maroon eyes radiating annoyance.

Muzan was very controlling of what you wore, ate and just did overall.

Douma was in for a lot of shit.

"Ah Lord Muzan! isn't she pretty? My followers know exactly what to do with her!" Douma pushed you forward, showcasing you to the demon king.

You slightly pouted your lips. You hated being pranced around like an animal in a zoo. You just wanted to change into comfortable-covering-clothes.

Muzan took you in, walking around you as if he was deciding to buy a new piece of furnace. He was judging you.

"I've seen this style before. Did your followers research her western background?" Muzan asked as he let his hands wander over the material; tracing the silver that were hiding your breasts.

"They did, and they did such a magnificent job."

No they didn't. You never wore anything like this back home.

Home. You missed it.

"I wore dresses at home-" Muzan grabbed your jaw, you coughed.

"-back in my former country, they were nothing like this." You managed to get out with the aching grip of the demon king on your jugular.

You had to stop messing that up.

Muzan loosened his grip just a tat.

"You look nice in this. Maybe I should let you indulge in your own culture more."

Your eyes grew big.

"Are you serious?"

"Dare you question me?"

You shook your head no as best you could with his hands still lingering between oxygen and choking.

When was the last time you had enjoyed something from your culture?

When was the last time you spoke in your tongue?

Sadness tugged at your heartstrings when you made that realization, but you quickly cut the emotion off as you went down on your knees. Muzan letting your go to have you grovel at his feet.

You bowed down; head touching the floor the way he loved.

"Thank you, my lord." You felt the insides of your stomach climbing up your throat as you said it, but you forced it down. You had learned quickly enough to do what Muzan likes, and thank him for the smallest bit of gratitude.

Having you call him 'lord' was another one of his manipulation tactics. he wanted you to know the power dynamic between the two of you. He wanted you to know where you stood exactly.

Muzan hummed in satisfaction. You rose to your feet again with the help of Kokushibo, who so kindly stuck out his arm for you to take.

"No, stay on your knees." Muzan commanded. Your mouth fell open, but without any hesitation you bend down on your knees again. Your dress spread around you in a perfect circle.

Muzan tilted your chin up. He raveled in the way you looked up at him with those innocent eyes. You looked so fragile with those flowers in your hair and the white clothing your skin.

He felt his trousers tighten just at the thought of corrupting the innocent thing before him.

You felt the eyes of the three demons behind you burning holes in your body as Muzan traced his thumb over your bottom lip.

"Kiss me." He whispered.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment. you weren't feeling up to this right now, but the consequences of rejecting Muzan-rejecting the demon king-would be a grave mistake.

Muzan couldn't handle that a mere human could reject a near God like himself. It hurt is ego immensely.

You gently stood up, not breaking eye contact with him once, you let your breath fan over his lips, mentally preparing for what was about to come. Muzan grabbed your hips as he watched you.

Pushing back every urge to stop, you lunged forward, crashing your lips on the frozen ones of Muzan. Your warmth enveloped Muzan's nerves as he reciprocated the kiss. He was more fierce, more eager, and after a second he took back control. Forcing you to stay in place as he explored the cavity of your mouth. You felt your oxygen running out as Muzan bit and tugged on your bottom lip. He dominated you easily. Your hands were taut around Muzan's shoulders. Squeezing as the need for oxygen became to extreme.

The moment spots started forming in your vision, Muzan broke the connection. You heaved, chest rising and falling in an uneven rhythm. You didn't stop looking at him, you knew he saw looking away as a form of 'not wanting' (even though that's what you did feel). You felt your lips swell and your face heat up. Your eyes were glossy and Muzan wore a small grin on his face.

He loved seeing you like this. Lips plump read, face hot and bothered and eyes doe-like.

"You are talented in putting on a show, darling." You furrowed your brows, Muzan guided your face in the direction of the other demons'.

You felt your muscles tense at the sight of all three looking at you like you were the first source of water they found after days of traveling in a dessert.

You felt fear fluttering in your stomach like moths pouncing on a flame.

You barely made it out alive when with one of them. You wouldn't be able to take all four.

"N-no, please, I-" Muzan raked his sharpened nails over the silver, it broke without any resistance, just like you predicted.

"Don't worry. They'll do as I say, and for now I want them to watch."

He kissed your shoulder as the shield slowly broke off your body.

You got what you wanted though, you got out of the dress.

[blanketforcas]

🚩Cult and cultlike/toxic behavior: red flags in fandom 🚩

A non-exhaustive list inspired by my 10+ years of experience in fandom, both personal and second-hand. By sharing this, I hope to make other people more aware and able to protect themselves in the future. No fandom space or friend group is worth your mental health.

They claim they have secret information and use that to lure you in

They might either lovebomb you at first or make you (feel like you have to) prove your worth

The leader(s) of the group might not feel super approachable, at least not without fear of saying the wrong thing

They seem to create or point out a divide in fandom you’d never noticed before. Likely this divide isn’t actually there in wider fandom, or the need for it is wholly unnecessary.

They create an us vs them (outsiders) situation. Their group has the most knowledge and expertise, if others critique them it’s simply cause they must’ve heard false rumors. They are always the ones who are “misunderstood”.

Questioning statements from leaders/people with high regard in the group, is not without risk. You can get dogpiled, your intelligence put into question and gaslit about your own words and feelings.

You see discussions happen and get more heated, and at the end of that discussion the person on the receiving end of the things mentioned above ^ starts apologizing profusely and/or believes they are indeed stupid. However, if this person does keep defending their stance, they might get bullied or kicked out of the server/group chat

Too much emphasis on Being Right/having the correct take or theory – it may seem it has a higher priority than empathy and tactful communication

You need to have an opinion (their opinion), because silence equals condoning or agreeing with the “other side”

Everything is a moral issue. When everything is made out to be a high-stakes issue or reflective of everyone as a person, it's easier for the leader(s) to manipulate you.

You find yourself excusing people’s behavior because you agree with their point. The way they bring their argument forward and the tone they use, become subordinate to finding out the truthTM

There is such a thing as The TruthTM in every theory, discussion or analysis

If you don't Get It, it's cause you haven't "worked on yourself enough". Or it's cause you're not trying hard enough, or you haven't done enough reading, or you have blind spots only they can see.

There is a lot of conspiratorial thinking – maybe actors are trying to send us secret messages, maybe there is a Whole Lot You Don’t Know But We Do, Trust Us, maybe this or that person in fandom has tried to attack us and are planning a bigger attack,…

You barely/don’t have fandom friends outside of this group and if you do, you tend to intentionally (whether subconsciously or not) hide your experience from them. They wouldn’t understand the way they talk, they wouldn’t understand the way it works etc

They want to know a lot of your personal information. - might only happen once you get into higher ranks

You might get (more and more) specific “tasks”, it starts becoming a part-time job instead of a hobby/fun space to hang out with friends

Of course, these red flags are not always immediately visible let alone advertised when you join a group chat/discord server/twitter or tumblr bubble. They can also be nonexistent at first and show up later. Here are some general ways to stay vigilant:

Periodically check in with your values, if they might be changing & how you feel about that.

Keep an eye on the way people (and yourself) are being treated. Is it kind? Is it fair? Do you feel on edge all the time when you’re having conversations? Is your body more tense when you’re in this online space or when certain people are around? Be honest with yourself here.

Ask yourself: Is this space becoming my only coping mechanism? Am I spending too much time here? There’s no shame in spending a lot of time on things you enjoy, but do check in with yourself sometimes whether you are actually still having fun and if you are taking things too seriously or parasocialising a lot.

There's a lot of fun to be had in fandom and a lot of good that comes out of it - don't forget that. Keep seeking that. It's why we're here!

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 18

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of body dysmorphia, mentions of an eating disorder, mentions of weight loss, mentions of cheating, mentions of pregnancy (don't worry, it's nothing), depression and anxiety

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader, Eddie Munson x fem!cheerleader!reader

Summary: A conversation with a girl that you had been trying to avoid, leaves you more confused than ever -- it might just be the cause of a storm in your heart.

Word count: 6k

A/N: BIG BIG BIG SHOUTOUT TO THE LITTLE DEVIL ON MY SHOULDER AKA @hellfire--cult thank you so much for helping me, with this chapter especially! I was struggling with the dialogue at the end of this chapter and you were such a big help so thank you -- you're talented, amazing, show-stopping, perfect, thank you for helping me with the dialogues (and so many other ideas) mwah! You guys better follow her and give her stories the love they deserve

series masterlist

-

The gym is filled with girls dressed in their cheer uniforms, the color green is starting to give you a headache, just like the sound of giggles and hushed whispers as the girls next to you talk about the latest gossip. Another supposed breakup. 

This time it’s Tommy and Carol again. 

Just three weeks back, you heard rumors about Steve and Nancy’s apparent breakup,  which turned out to be just a rumor, considering you’ve seen them together – maybe less than before but they are still around each other, laughing and smiling just like before. 

Clearly, they are still together. 

But teenagers love to make up rumors – especially about people like you and Steve. Despite both yours and his fall down the social ladder, you are still the hot topics of the school. 

They love to make up rumors about your relationship or past relationship with Steve and your friendship with Eddie – or as they still like to call him, the freak. 

Apparently you and Eddie had been seen making out in his van. 

Apparently you and Eddie have been in a secret relationship since august, last year. 

Apparently you cheated on the king with the freak. 

Apparently the satan worshiper had cursed your relationship with the king – so he could have you. 

Apparently you are pregnant with Eddie’s baby and living in his trailer. 

Apparently you and Eddie are in love and secretly married – at least, you understand that rumor. The matching rings on both yours and his ring finger may have been the cause of it. 

The pregnancy rumor made you physically sick – it made you stand in front of the mirror, checking for signs that you had gained weight. You did not, it still made you feel nauseous and you had to cancel your dinner ‘date’ with your friends. 

A sigh falls from your lips when you hear Teresa talking about her future in college – Princeton to be exact. Of course the cute brunette has it all, beauty and brains. The straight A student isn’t only one of the smartest students in Hawkins High, she is also one of the prettiest – cat eyes, a small nose and big lips, she is thin but her boobs are, well, they are huge. 

You wonder why you were ever crowned as the queen when girls like her exist. When girls like Heather and Chrissy exist. 

You wonder why Steve ever even looked your way. 

You look down at yourself, your uniform is perfectly ironed, your skin is soft and glowing after scrubbing and lathering it in moisturizer earlier this morning. You reach for the mirror in your bag, wanting to check on your makeup, one more time before the photoshooting. Your hair looks good, your make up looks good and yet, you still don’t like the way you look. 

“Well, don’t you look beautiful.” 

The frown on your face disappears when you hear his voice. Looking over your shoulder,  you see Eddie leaning against the doorframe. He is eying you with a smile on his face. He ignores all the nasty looks from the other cheerleaders before they continue getting ready for the little photo session with Jonathan – who is getting just as many nasty looks as Eddie does. 

You put the little mirror down and walk over to him, smoothing down your skirt as you take in the sight of him. He was forced to leave his leather jacket at home and he had already been whining about it since the early morning hours. Clad in his favorite jeans and a metallica shirt, you can’t help but miss the leather on his skin – it’s his staple piece but, it’s the end of May, much to Eddie’s dismay it’s too warm to walk around with vests and jackets. 

You like seeing his tattoos though and his hair in ponytail or a bun when it does get a little too warm. 

“Hi,” you say, giving him a sweet smile as you halt in front of him. 

He smiles down at you, tapping your nose, “hey sweetheart.” 

“Wanna join the photo session?” You joke, gesturing to the girls who are still getting ready as Jonathan is setting up his tripod and his camera. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, “give me a uniform and I’m in.”

Giggling, you shake your head, “your butt would look cute in a cheer skirt.”

“Oh, not as cute as yours,” he winks, grinning at you when you look away with a blush on your cheeks. 

“Are you enjoying the last day as the cheer captain?” 

“You have no idea how much I wanna get rid of that title,” you laugh, “I’m ready to give that position up to Chrissy.” 

You haven’t been loving cheerleading as much as you used to. Things changed, especially this year. 

“I’m ready to get the hell out of here.” 

“You and me both, sweetheart.” 

“You know, I always thought that I’d go to college after high school,” you say as you look around the room, “but now, I’m just lost. I wouldn’t even know what to major in if I did go to college a-and I don’t even know what college I’d go to – and why am I even stressing about it, it’s too late for that now–”

Eddie places his hands on your shoulders, “I thought we settled on not stressing about our future anymore.” 

“Yeah but–” 

“No buts,” Eddie chuckles, “you’re taking a gap year, you still got your job at the record store and I’ll work at the garage, we’ll save up some money this summer and then–”

“And then we’ll go on that road trip.”

“Exactly,” he smiles, “we’ve been planning it for weeks now, don’t let college ruin that.”

Your shoulders slump and you sigh, “I just, I hear all of them talking about college,” you pause, gesturing to the girls behind you, “a-and it makes me think that maybe it was a mistake not to apply to any.”

His eyes soften at the worry in your eyes, he shakes his head. 

“I don’t think it’s a mistake.”

“It’s not?” 

“No, you got all the time in the world to join all these boring people in the normal world,” he chuckles, pulling you closer, “let’s live in our own world for a little longer,” he smiles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before he fixes the bow in your ponytail. 

“Our dreams will be crushed the moment we step into the real world, let’s not let that happen so soon.”

You eye his face and curl of his lips as he stares at you. 

“Our own world,” you smile, nodding, “I think I like that more anyways.”

“Yeah?” He grins. 

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Good,” you repeat after him, making him chuckle. 

He tilts his head with a smile on his face, “did you do your make up differently?” 

“Uh yeah, I did pink eye shadow today,” you chuckle, “I’m surprised you noticed it, guys usually don’t pay attention to these things.”

“I’m offended that you think I’m one of those guys,” he jokes, placing his hand on his chest, “I notice everything about you, sweetheart.” 

He notices every slight change. A different hairstyle, new clothes, the new color of your lipstick, the slightest change in your behavior, your eating habits, your struggles. He notices it all. 

“You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” you smile but the look in your eyes isn’t genuine and it makes him frown. 

“Not as gorgeous as Teresa.”

“Who the fuck is Teresa,” he mumbles in confusion. 

You point to the cheerleader and Eddie follows your gaze. You watch him closely as he looks at the pretty cheerleader. 

Does he think she’s gorgeous? Does he think she looks better than you? Does he think she looks sexy in her tight uniform? Does he think her boobs look good?

The reaction you expected never comes, he scrunches his face up and a look of distaste crosses his features.

“That bitch threw gum in my hair.” 

A laugh tumbles from your lips, you cup your hand over your mouth when the others turn to look at you.

“That’s not funny, y/n!” Eddie frowns, though his eyes are filled with amusement, “Wayne had to cut a chunk of my hair because I couldn’t get it out.” 

“Your poor hair!” You pout, reaching out to touch his curls. 

Both you and Eddie are unaware of the new set of eyes watching the two of you. 

Steve just left the coach’s office, passing by the gym when he heard your laughter, he couldn’t help but peek inside the open gym. 

His eyes fall on you, right away. 

It’s been a while since you had talked, though you had been more present in his life since the night before your birthday, you were still far from actually being back in his life. The only interactions the two of you have are the ones in the hallway or in classes, greeting one another and saying goodbye. That’s all but he wishes he would see more of you. 

Things haven’t been easy in the past few weeks, he barely passed the exams, sleepless nights haunt him and his days usually consist of reading and trying to better his cooking skills – he has nothing else to do. He has no one to talk to, no one to hang out with, no one to be with, not even his parents. 

He had never been more miserable than he is right now. 

There you are, pressing yourself against Eddie as you play with his hair, looking happier than ever. 

Eddie, who wraps his arm around your waist and looks down at you like you are the most precious thing in this world. 

Steve’s eyes are filled with nothing but sadness. He doesn’t even have the power to feel jealous anymore. 

“Hey Steve!” 

Shit. 

All eyes are now on him, including yours and Eddie’s. 

Steve tears his eyes away from you and turns to look at Jonathan who is walking towards him with his camera. By the look in his eyes, Steve can tell that he wants to do anything but talk to him. 

“Uh – it’s good that you’re here,” Jonathan mumbles, holding the camera up, “Principle Higgins asked for a picture of you and y/n.” 

Steve’s brows furrow and confusion takes over his face, “me and y/n?” He asks, “why?”

Jonathan shrugs, refraining from rolling his eyes, “cause you’re the captain of the basketball team and she’s cheer captain.” 

“Oh.” 

Jonathan looks away from Steve, glancing in your direction, waving you over. 

You look just as confused as Steve does but you make your way over to them nonetheless. 

“Hi,” you mumble to Steve before your eyes find Jonathan who stands between you two, awkwardly. 

“Hey,” Steve smiles at you. 

“Principle Higgins wants a picture of you two together,” Jonathan explains to you, “cause you’re both Captains.” 

You raise your brows, “uh okay,” you snort, “what does the cheer captain have to do with–” 

“Don’t ask me, y/n,” Jonathan chuckles as he motions for you both to follow him, “I’m just as confused.” 

“That’s weird,” you mumble, glancing at Steve who’s awfully quiet. 

“Let’s do it in front of the banners,” Jonathan looks over his shoulder, giving you a small smile but avoiding Steve’s eyes – you notice it. 

Does he feel guilty about kissing his girlfriend? You saw them together yesterday, Nancy and Jonathan. They didn’t even bother to hide their affection. They kissed in the parking lot in front of everyone to see. All they got were a few weird looks, no one seemed to pay much attention to them – no one except for you. You stood frozen in place, a mix of confusion and anger rushing through you. 

Despite the things that Steve had done to you, he still didn’t deserve that. 

You didn’t know whether you should tell him or not, by the sullen look in his eyes, you can tell that he already knows. 

“Alright, just uh–” Jonathan waves his hand at you and Steve, looking around awkwardly, “scoot a little closer.” 

You don’t have to look around the gym to see all the eyes on you, you can feel them and you can hear the hushed whispers.

Steve ignores them but he can’t help but take a look at Eddie who is still standing in the same spot as before. He watches you. 

You step closer to Steve, when he lifts his arm up for you. You place your hand on his back and he places his hand on your waist. Steve looks away from Eddie when the latter looks down. 

Jonathan looks through his camera, squinting his eyes as he motions with his hand, “a little closer, y/n.” 

Steve feels your body closer against his, your hand slides down to his waist, your touch fills him with a warmth that he hasn’t felt in a long time, it makes his heart beat a little faster, it fills him with life. 

If a simple touch of your hand can make him feel such things, he wonders what a kiss from you would cause. 

For a moment, he forgets about his surroundings and what he is supposed to be doing. The sound of chatter, whispers and giggles fly by him. His attention is on you and he basks in the feeling of being so close to you, of feeling your touch, of being able to look at you – not from afar but from such a close distance. 

After a few snaps, Jonathan pulls back to look at the pictures he just took, he furrows his brows and glances up at the two of you. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, not pulling away from Steve just yet, “do I look okay?” 

Jonathan huffs with a soft chuckle, “yeah, you look good but uh, Steve? You’re supposed to look into the camera,” he says awkwardly. 

Your breath hitches in your throat when you look up to see him staring at you – now with a blush on his cheeks. Oh. He wasn’t looking into the camera because he was too busy looking at you. 

He closes his eyes, furrowing his brows, “right.” 

You can’t help but smile to yourself – a flustered Steve is not something you will ever get used to. 

“Alright,” Jonathan mumbles after snapping a few more pictures, “I got it now.”

He looks up from his camera, giving Steve a tight lipped smile, “thanks Steve, you can go now,” he says before he steps away himself. 

You feel the hesitation in his touch before he lets go of you, stepping away slowly.

“Alright uh, I’m gonna,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck as he points to the entrance. 

“Yeah,” you whisper but you hesitate as well and you find yourself looking into his eyes again. 

The sadness has taken over. 

You know that he knows about Nancy and Jonathan. 

Why is he still with her? 

Why is he still with her after everything he said to you? 

Why is he still with her when she is seeing someone else? 

He gives you a halfhearted smile before he turns away but you stop him, reaching for his hand before he can take the first step away from you. You grip it tightly, unaware of the feeling in his heart that you had caused with yet another simple touch. 

He looks down at your hand only to notice another, new ring adorning your hand. A skull ring on your ring finger – he doesn’t know why such a small item can cause him so much despair. He doesn’t have to ask to know where or who you had gotten it from. 

“Are you okay?” 

The softness in your voice matches the one in your eyes, it makes him want to cry. 

How could he ever be okay without you in his life? 

Now that he had finally dropped the act and let go of a fake love, he had nothing to hold onto anymore. 

He lost his best friend, he lost the love of his life, he lost the one. All because he was an insecure coward. 

The past few weeks have shown him how much he had truly ruined, how alone he really is without you in his life. 

He needed to lose you to realize that you are all he ever wanted. 

He doesn’t need a bunch of friends who don’t even care about him nor does he need girls chasing after him or the popularity that he no longer has or even wants. 

You, he only wants you. 

But he won’t fight for someone who he doesn’t deserve to have.  

You look at him with worry in your eyes as you wait for him to answer your question. 

No. No, he is not okay. 

He has never felt more lost in his life than he does at this moment. 

The emptiness in his chest is eating at him and he doesn’t know how to keep going when every day feels like hell.

Every night he stares at the bottles of expensive whiskey in his dad’s office, contemplating whether or not he should just drink until he no longer feels anything. Deep down he knows that the whiskey would just make everything so much worse. 

Maybe it would lead him back to you, maybe it would lead him to the phone on his nightstand, maybe he would make the mistake of calling or even seeing you only to beg for another chance – which would only end in heartbreak. 

You won’t take him back.

Steve will forever hate himself for losing you. 

“Yeah,” he says, forcing a smile on his face, “I’m okay.” 

And for a moment, it isn’t a lie. For a moment, he does feel okay when he still feels your hand in his, when he sees the worry and the softness in your beautiful eyes and the necklace around your neck, the locket that he gave you. You are wearing it. And that alone is enough for his heart to flutter and for the emptiness in his chest to disappear – even if only temporary. 

He avoids your eyes and that proves to you that he isn’t okay but just like he never pressured you, you don’t do it either. 

“A-Are you going to college?” You ask, not wanting him to go so soon. 

Your question surprises him, it’s been a long time since you had initiated a conversation. 

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “It doesn’t seem really appealing to me.”

“But you wanted to go to college, Steve.”

He runs his fingers through his hair, tilting his head with a small chuckle.

“That uh, that was our dream. I only wanted to go to college with you.”

His hand is still in yours, his sad eyes are still gazing into yours. 

“You wanted to go to college with me?” Your eyes widen when he nods, “for me?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes, “I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from you so,” he trails off as he watches the way sadness crosses your features. 

Your heart jumps at his words. 

“That’s uh, that’s funny,” you laugh, “cause I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from you so I always told you that I had this huge college dream when I never even knew what I actually wanted.”

Steve’s brows furrow and his eyes fill with confusion but also with amusement. 

“Really?” He chuckles. 

“Yeah.” 

His eyes crinkle and his smile widens. 

“Wow. We would’ve gone to college together not knowing that it’s something neither of us wanted,” he says, “unless it’s something that you want now?”

“Oh no,” you mumble, “I-I’m not going to college. For now, I’m stuck at the record store which is actually being moved to Starcourt soon.” 

His eyes light up. 

“Oh, the record store is being moved?” 

“Yeah!”

“I guess we’ll keep seeing each other then.” 

While the thought leaves him with excitement, it must leave you with annoyance – at least that’s what he thinks. 

The look on your face is puzzled.

“I got a job at the ice cream parlor,” he clears his throat, “Scoops Ahoy.” 

Suddenly, he feels embarrassed and his cheeks heat up. You used to date a king, a popular guy, the captain of the basketball team with his apparent bright athlete future. 

And now he is just Steve Harrington who barely got his diploma, who threw his athlete future down the drain to work at an ice cream parlor. How humiliating. 

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen, “no way! Scoops Ahoy?” 

“Yeah..”

“Oh my god!” You giggle excitedly. “I’ll be your regular.”

Steve can’t help but laugh at your enthusiasm. 

“You did love your ice cream.”

“Yeah, I still do.” 

You are still smiling at him and he can’t help but smile back at you. This almost feels like a dream – standing here with your hand still in his, laughing and smiling with you like the past no longer matters. 

“Y/n!” Chrissy calls for you. 

You tear your eyes away from his and glance over his shoulder. 

Chrissy motions for you to join her and the other cheerleaders – who are all trying to hide the fact that they were just staring at you and Steve. 

“Come on!” She says as she glares at Steve’s back. 

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

Steve’s face falls, though his smile still lingers when you look back at him. You remove your hand from his. 

“So uh, I guess I’ll see you around?” 

He nods, “yeah,” he mumbles. 

You step away from him but this time, he stops you. With a hand on your wrist and your name falling from his lips, he makes you halt in your tracks. 

You look back at him with raised brows. 

His soft eyes make your heart race, his touch makes you feel warm. 

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

He knows you don’t believe it, you never did, no matter how many times he told you these words, you never believed them. 

“The locket looks good on you,” he smiles. 

You place your other hand on your chest, touching the locket, “thanks, I love it.”

Chrissy rolls her eyes, watching the interaction between you and Steve. Annoyed at the affection and the smiles you are giving him, she forces herself to look away. 

Steve always finds a way to sneak his way back into your life. He doesn’t deserve you, not after everything that happened. 

She knows that you might never stop loving him but she hopes that your love for him won’t stop you from letting another one in. She narrows her eyes, glancing at the metalhead who is still standing by the door, watching you with an intense look on his face, one that can only be described as jealousy. 

It’s the same look you always wore when you saw Steve with other girls. 

She sighs, shaking her head.

Chrissy might not be a close friend of Eddie’s but she knows that his feelings for you are nowhere near platonic and she knows that what you are feeling might be deeper than that too, though you are still oblivious, too focused on your feelings for your ex boyfriend. 

She hopes that you will let go of them someday. 

-

The first big summer storm hits the town of Hawkins on a Friday afternoon. The rain is falling down harshly from the sky, the wind is howling through the trees, the bright lighting lights up the darkened sky every few seconds as the thunder crashes loudly. 

The streets are empty as the water flushes down the road. 

Of course you had to come to the library today. 

You should’ve come here tomorrow, you should’ve stayed home. 

You tried to leave the library when the storm just started but the librarian, an elderly woman named Margaret, refused to let you leave. She forced a book into your hand and told you to take a seat by the window. 

She didn’t even let you put up a fight. She offered you a cup of coffee and told you to wait out the storm. 

It’s been an hour but the storm is still raging and you are becoming restless. You hate being stuck in public places.

You take the book that she gave you and leave the table, giving her a tight lipped smile as you pass by the counter. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to sneak out,” you whisper to her when she gives you a pointed look. 

“You better not, young lady,” she says with a mean voice but her eyes are kind. 

You chuckle at her, flashing her a smile before you disappear into the aisle where the shelves are filled with nothing but dramatic romances and sad love stories – your favorites. 

The smell of paper and coffee, the sound of rain and thunder fills you with a nostalgic feeling. You love these types of afternoons, sitting down with a book you love, listening to the rain paddling down the windows after you light up your favorite candle and drinking a hot cup of coffee – too bad you did not stay at home, you could have done just that. 

As you walk down the aisle and you trace the books, trying to find one that calls for you, you don’t find a story that you would love to read, instead, you find the girl that has been the cause of a lot of pain in your life. 

You halt in your tracks when you find her sitting in the little nook by the window. A large book resting on her lap. 

You don’t know why you freeze, why you don’t just walk away, why you keep standing there like a fool as you stare at the girl that stole your boyfriend – ex boyfriend. 

She glances up from her book when she feels your eyes on her.

For a moment, she freezes too and stares back at you. 

What are you doing? Just walk away. The angel on your shoulder whispers, trying to save you from the awkwardness of this situation. 

No. Confront her. Tell her what you saw.

You were never one to let the devil win. You were always a good, obedient girl. Always listening to the things the good ones whispered to you. Always doing what you were supposed to do. Always being kind and sweet to everyone around you. Always doing the right thing. 

Maybe that is where you went wrong, by doing the apparent right things. 

But you never did what you wanted to do. 

So you let the devil for once – or maybe the devil is actually the angel and the angel that has been whispering all these discouraging words to you, is actually the devil in disguise,  waiting for you to fail, changing your mind about the things that you want.

“Can I help you?” Nancy asks slowly.

You notice that her hair is shorter than it used to be, a few of her curls fall from the clip that is holding her hair together. 

“No,” you shake your head. 

She furrows her brows when you make your way over to her. 

“But there’s something that I wanted to talk to you about.” 

“You wanted to talk to me?” She asks, pointing between the two of you. 

Surprised that you want to talk to her now. 

You nod. 

Nancy can’t help but feel nervous. Despite her dislike for you, she is aware of her wrongs. You have every right to be angry at her – if you are angry at her. 

“I saw you with Jonathan.” 

She tilts her head, eyes straying from you. She looks confused. 

“What?” 

You cross your arms over your chest, the bracelet around your wrist slides down a little. 

“I saw you kissing him.”

“So?” 

“So?” 

Now you feel the anger rushing through you. 

Does she not feel ashamed? 

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief. 

“I should be the last person to care about this but I still care about him,” you start as you stare into her confused eyes, “what are you doing is disgusting.”

Nancy begins to understand a little but a part of her still leaves her with a big question mark. 

“I shouldn’t be defending him but I know that he is a good person, despite everything,” you murmur the last part with an eye roll, “and I know that he is good to you.” 

Nancy straightens her back, she pushes the book off of her lap and holds her hands up, “okay, uh I’m a little confused.”

“Oh, you’re confused?” You mumble, trying to keep your voice down, “you’re confused about the fact that you are cheating – openly?” 

Technically, you are not wrong. She did cheat but not anymore. 

“I’m not cheating,” she mumbles, “we’re not together anymore.”

Silence fills the space between the two of you. The only sound you both hear is the thunder and the rain outside before you speak up after a long pause. 

“What?” You ask and Nancy realizes that you don’t know. 

How do you not know about the break up? 

How do you not know that he left her? 

She stands up and crosses her arms over her chest, mimicking your pose. 

“Steve broke up with me.” 

You are stunned. These news are something you did not expect. 

“A few weeks ago, actually,” she explains, “when he came back from you.”

Oh. 

He broke up with her, the night before your birthday, after seeing you. 

“I’m not cheating on Steve. Jonathan and I, we’re together.” 

So, the rumors were true, after all. 

They broke up – he broke up with her. 

“Oh.”

Nancy looks you up and down. There you stand, wide eyed, confused and definitely unaware of the break up that happened so long ago. 

“You didn’t… know?” 

You shake your head and you lean your body against the shelf behind you. 

“No, I-I didn’t know.”

You had almost forgotten about the raging storm when a bolt of lightning strikes through the sky and the lights in the library flicker for a few seconds. 

You draw in a long sharp breath and look down. 

Why didn’t he tell you? You wonder. 

Nancy asks herself the same thing. Why did Steve not tell you about the break up? Why didn’t he call you the way he called her after he broke up with you? 

The two of you stand in front of each other, shocked.

And as Nancy takes a closer look at you, as she sees the slight frown, the look in your eyes, the tension in your shoulders, the hand over your heart. She knows. She knows that there is still something. 

You are still processing the news, she can tell by the way your eyes flicker back and forth as though you are trying to piece something together. 

“Wait so.. you heard the rumors and you didn’t… think they were true?” 

Your hair falls in front of your face when you lift your head, you don’t bother to push it away. 

“I– well, I…I saw you two together a lot, so, it was hard to believe the rumors.. you know?” 

Nancy nods in understanding. 

“I get it… Then, the rumors with Eddie are not true?” 

For a moment, you think about her question before you turn your head to look at her with a frown. 

“The one I’m pregnant? The one where he sacrificed a lamb to get my undying love and devotion? The one where I cheated on Steve? Which one of them all?” 

Nancy’s eyes widen. 

She can’t help but snort at all those rumors. Shaking her head with an amused smile, she looks down with furrowed brows, “trust me, even I know Munson looks scary but probably is a fan of Garfield or something,” she chuckles. 

A smile tugs at your lips. 

“He does have Garfield pajamas.”

She looks at you with a stunned expression before you both burst into giggles. 

Nancy shakes her head again as the smile fades away. 

“And no, not the pregnant one either.. Jesus,” she sighs. Her eyes find your body again, she looks you up and down with a look that you cannot read. 

Suddenly, you feel self conscious again. You feel the urge to wrap your arms around your waist, wanting to hide your body. 

But her words aren’t ones that you expected. 

“If you’re pregnant with a body like that, is the baby like smushed to the very back?” 

Your breath gets caught in your throat. Your eyes widen at her words and you restrain yourself from gasping or holding your hand in front of your mouth or your stomach. 

Nancy had spent so much time feeling jealous of you, of what you had – because at one point, she thought that you had everything. Beauty, popularity, friends and a guy who was hopelessly in love with you. You had it all and when she got a taste of what you had, she wanted it. She wanted him. She painted a false picture of you in her head, to make herself feel better about stealing from you. 

Though, the false picture in her head didn’t stay for long, it started crumbling the moment she walked into the girls bathroom to hear you crying. She knew it was you, the backpack that laid on the ground had a pin of The Cure on the front, one that only you had. 

After that, she began to pay attention to you. 

She saw the way you looked at Steve, weeks, months after he left you. 

She saw the sadness, the heartbreak, the pain in your eyes and the love that never left. 

She saw the way you looked at the other girls and the way you looked at yourself. The way you stayed in the locker room, a little longer than the other girls. 

The way you looked at her and compared yourself to her. 

All because of him. 

“Y-You look amazing is what I’m trying to say,” Nancy says nervously. 

A flush creeps up to your face as you gape at her. 

To hear it from Steve or even Eddie is one thing, to hear it from a girl who bashed on you, who belittled you is a whole other thing. It feels.. good. 

“T-Thank you..”

Nancy clears her throat, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Desperately wanting to kill the awkward tension, she goes back to your previous question.

“No… The one where you and Eddie are dating.” 

It takes you a moment to realize what she means. Your mouth falls open and recognition dawns your face. 

“No, it’s not true either. None of them are,” you brows knit together, “wait, why did you think it was true?”

There’s amusement in her features as she takes in the sight of your confused face. She shrugs, “you’re always clinging to one another, and you guys literally kiss on the cheek! Like, who does that to a friend? And– you sit on his lap! It’s hard not to think you two have something going on!” 

You press your hands together, laughing awkwardly, “uh, well, that’s how best friends interact,” you say these words with a twinge of pain in your chest but you don’t understand it, the reasoning behind the pain is unclear to you. 

“Trust me, that’s not how best friends interact with each other – or look at each other,” she adds quietly. 

“L-Like what?”

She stares at you in amusement, albeit a little bewildered. 

“You’re a little oblivious, aren’t you?” 

“Oblivious to what?” 

She looks away from you with a small smile, glancing out the window, she pretends to be surprised, “oh, it looks like the storm finally stopped!” She points out. 

The storm had indeed stopped, though the one inside of you, has just begun. 

Nancy reaches for the book on the nook. She grabs her bag and turns back to you, “I gotta go home. Jonathan and my mom must be worried.” 

You follow her with your eyes, staring at her desperately. 

She looks over her shoulder after passing by you, “one piece of advice? Pay attention.” 

And with that, Nancy Wheeler leaves you standing in the empty aisle. 

“What?”

next chapter

-

@mysticmunson @taintedcigs @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @succubusmunson @xxhellfirebunnyxx @trashmouth-richie @take-everything-you-can @sherrylyn628 @nemesis729 @somethingvicked @chrissymjstan

[lorsdelapluie]

The doctor's diary.

Pairing: sylus x female reader

Genre: Dark shit going on. Including smut. Please read the content warning.

Word count: 4000+ words.

Content warning: mdni, explicit sexual content (but its chill for now), spoiler warning, mention of human experimentation, cult activities, my own twisted thoughts and theories are literally making this way darker than LADS already is. An oc of mine will appear more often in the next chapters, hate him guys, he is not a good guy. English is not my first language sorry for any mistakes.

Note: This chapter ended up longer than I expected somehow. And it is the first one of a three chapter fanfiction. I tend to write nasty stuff, sex wise but also everything else wise so please be prepared for anything literally. The character Castiel that you will meet in this chapter is my own oc that I made up specially for the LADS universe. I hope you will enjoy to hate him.

Chapter 1:

“You want me to go in the N109 zone ? I thought we weren’t allowed to go th-” 

“We are aware you have been going back and forth between Linkon city and the N109 Zone.” 

You pinched your lips at the words coming from Jenna’s mouth, your hand resting on your hunter’s watch. The times you forgot to turn off your watch comes back to light one by one in your mind. Brushing it off everytime you thought that the HQ wouldn't have the time to check on your status. Her arms were still crossed over her chest as she looked at you straight in the face with her dark gray eyes. You felt like a kid underneath this disappointed glare. You opened your lips to say something, to defend yourself but she raised her hand to stop you from doing so. 

“However, you have mainly been doing this outside your working hours. So it is your private life, and you may keep it a secret if you wish. But since you have been going there multiple times, we figured you might be aware of what is going on there better than we do.” She sighed. You guessed that she wasn't the one behind this idea. Maybe some higher ups that you never had the opportunity to meet.

“So this is why we thought you might be the best suited agent for this mission.”

“Oh uhm… Thank you for entrusting me.” 

“Despite this little disagreement, I am aware that you are one of our best agents. However if you think you might need help, you can still ask Xavier to accompany you. Although he has been quite busy lately.”

“No no no ! Do not bother Xavier for this. I am more than capable of handling missions on my own. As for the mission… Can I ask you what is it that I am meant to do ?” 

“Of course. I wouldn’t let you go into the Lions’ den without information.” She said as she slid her hand on her desk, taking a handful of documents stored inside a pocket and handing them to you. “We need you to participate in an auction for charity.”

“For charity…” you mumbled. You never thought you would see the day of a charity auction being held in the a zone so… uncharitable. You start looking through the papers in your hand, brows furrowed in confusion.

“We are as surprised as you look. As nice as the thoughts around this event are, we are particularly interested in one of the prizes that we wish you would purchase for us.”

Your eyes land on the auction picture of a diary, its cover is made of leather and the pages look old, teared up for some of them. “A diary ?”

“This diary seemingly belonged to one of the most wanted people of our organization. A doctor who previously worked here, in Linkon city, and got too deep in his interest for protocores and their links with people’s evol.” 

“He experimented on humans…” you mumbled as you read the notes next to the picture that the intel team had written for you. "On children..."

“He indeed did. And we would like to prevent this diary from falling into the wrong hands. This is where your part comes in. Buying this diary away from that zone.”

You nodded as you guessed the objective of your mission long before she started explaining the reason why they would go fetch that book in the first place. Plus, that diary might bring you answers you are seeking about yourself. And as you remember your partner's jewel like gaze, about Sylus too. You then raised yours towards Jenna, closing the file between your hands and straightening your back. 

“If you will allow me. I’m going to do the best I can to fulfill this mission.” 

“I know you will. The auction is in three days. I hope it gives you enough time to gather any belongings and travel to a safe place in the N109 zone… If such a place exists.” 

“Do not worry about me. I will be safe.”

You smile as Jenna raises her hand slowly with a peaceful expression as she dismisses you from her office. You exit the room, slowly closing the door behind you before walking to your desk, gathering your laptop and phone on the furniture. You then put the file inside your bag as you were already leaving the building. You would take the time to analyze everything once you were safely in the N109 Zone.

Phone in hand you immediately texted Xavier to let him know that you were leaving for a mission in the outskirts of your beloved city. As your thumbs were patting the screen of your phone, it suddenly started to vibrate. Soon enough the icon of Sylus appeared on your phone, a silly picture of him you took when he dozed off while watching a musical a few weeks prior. You frowned at the VERY convenient timing that he always had and picked up, raising your phone to your ear. 

“Yes ?”

“The twins are going to pick you up at 5 this afternoon. Will you have enough time to be prepared before then?” 

“Don’t tell me you hacked Jenna’s computer again. How many times do I have to tell you to not do that?” You frowned, faking or maybe wanting to be angry about that breach of your private life once again.

“There is no need to get angry at me. Be angry at the twins all you want though. They are the ones who insisted on checking up on you while I was away.” 

“How do they even know how to hack-” you stopped in your tracks as you heard your voice the sound of a bike motor in the background of the call. “Are you calling me while driving ?”

“Now this is a reason you can get mad at me for.” he chuckles as you let out a frustrated sound. “Do not worry, sweetie, I have my helmet on. Just checking on you through earbuds.” 

“Unsafe still. Your attention should be fully on the road.” you finally started walking towards the road that leads to your apartment, going through the usual route that takes you near along a river. “I thought you said you would be the one picking me up after Luke nearly got us in a car crash last time.” 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, sweetie. But I do have some work meetings that need to be attended to." After a moment of quiet, he continued. “I trust Kieran will be the one driving you three back at home. I will be back before dinner.” 

“Fine. Be careful on your way to your meet up… I will see you later.” you could hear a chuckle, and the picture of Sylus’ grin appeared in your mind. Before he could answer, you hung up. 

You sighed as you crossed the street, pushing the door of your building entrance after entering the password on the door’s pad. Slowly you slid the phone inside your bag, totally forgetting about warning your colleague, and your friends, of the mission that will probably won’t let you have time for chit chat. Once you are inside your place, you quickly pull out a bag from the closet in the entrance, walking towards your bedroom to pack your essentials for the next few days. 

An hour flew by without you realizing it before your phone rang. Luke. As you picked up you hear his cheerful voice coming from outside your building, you walked towards your opened window staring down. 

“Miss ! Your carriage is waiting for you !” the masked man yells waving at you from below, catching glances from other people passing by. 

“Get inside the car ! Can’t you see people are staring at you Luke ?” you frowned shooing him away with your hand. 

“Heeeh. I’m hurt ! Are you embarrassed by me perhaps ?” You wondered if Sylus teasing was coming from spending too much time with them or the other way round. 

You frowned not wanting to let your mind wander at that thought, hanging up and closing the window before picking your bag on your bed and leaving your apartment. Once downstairs you were greeted with no one but the black car with tinted windows that was just in front of the house, without giving it much thoughts you walked to the back of the car and climbed inside. 

After exchanging proper greetings with the twins, and a short trip from Linkon city to the twins’ boss base. 

It was night time now and you were settled down in one of Sylus couch in his apartments. You were going through the file once more, eyeing the clock in front of you from time to time. The meal was soon to be put down in the living room and you were definitely imagining eating alone at this rate. You sighed as you let your head roll on one of the sides of the couch, closing your eyes as you let yourself drift to the sound of the gramophone playing the music you put on earlier. 

“Are you asleep ?” a whisper came above the sound of the music as a finger brushed against your cheek. 

Your eyes opened and you looked up to the figure towering over you. Sylus gazed at you as he was leaning with one hand on the couch watching you slowly wake up from your nap. You slowly straight up, your files sliding from your chest and before you could react, Sylus caught it and put it down on the table next to you.

“Mmm no.” 

“Sure you weren’t.” he smiled as he sat on the carpet next to the couch. “Don’t move.” 

“But the dinner…” you mumbled still drowsy. 

“Dinner is cold by now. I was late and you fell asleep. We are in no hurry anymore.” he says as he takes off his jacket, putting it down on the chair behind him, soon followed by his gloves. You sighed knowing that the man next you wouldn't budge. 

“How did your meeting go ?” you asked as you traced every of his movements with your gaze. 

“Productive. But a waste of time at the same time. We wasted 2 hours waiting for someone who never came. I honestly thought I was going to come back really early.” 

“Would have been better…” you muttered.

Sylus' head turned to look at you with that same grin of his when he catches you being off guard. “Missing me I see.” 

“Whatever.” 

“I missed you too, sweetie.” he muttered as his face was now a few inches away from your face. And as always Sylus was the one to close that distance, his teeth started nibbling gently on your lower lip as he kissed you. His right hand comes to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "I missed you a lot."

There was always this conflict inside of you when you felt the lips of Sylus on yours. A shyness that you wished you didn’t have, pushing you to turn your face away. However the drumming of your heart everytime his lips were on yours made you feel safe. Safe and cared for. The man suddenly started pushing his tongue against your lips, deepening the kiss drawing a sound from you in a sigh. 

“Knowing that you were waiting for me here. Probably lying down on that bed or on that couch…” he muttered as he kissed your lips once again then your cheek and the back of your ear. “I wished I could have just left to join you here quicker.”

“You are… so dirty Sylus.” you whispered as you felt his hand slide on your shirt to start unbuttoning it. When Sylus admitted his excitement for you it always made you shiver. Not that it was rare for him to be so blunt. But being wanted and knowing that he was thinking of you that way, in places where he shouldn’t. God, he was the devil in person and he loved playing with his favorite person. 

“If you want to blame me for the tension rising in this room. Feel free to do so…” he said, lips leaving a trailing of kisses from your neck towards your chest. “I would enjoy that.” 

Soon his lips were not the only thing on your skin, his tongue traveled against you with wet kisses. Teeth sometimes nibble on you, trying to mark you as his. However he knew better than to do that or he would have been met with a warning look. Instead his hand slides away the remaining of your top clothes, revealing your skin to his red eyes ravishing each corner of your body, everytime. 

“Your skin is covered in goosebumps. Are you getting worked up sweetie ?” he says smiling, his lips resting against your chest. A thumb sliding against one of your nipples. “I bet that if I slide my hand in your pants, I might find it dripping with excitement.” 

“You are too sure of yourself.” you said trying to keep your voice steady as his lips brushed against your other nipple. 

A low chuckle vibrates through his body at your answer. “Always so feisty, kitten.” he murmured, pinching with two of his fingers the nipple he had in his hand. 

“Then… Shall we take a look ?” 

As soon as the words left his mouth, you closed your legs, preventing his hand from sliding under your pants and between your thighs. His hand stopped mid-way, resting against your lower body. He slowly quirked up his face, arching a brow with a smile. 

“Getting shy ?” he asks, fingers fondling with the zipper of your pants. He soon pulled it down. “You know I don’t particularly enjoy you playing shy. I’d rather have my feisty kitten biting and fighting me than hiding away.” 

Asshole you thought. 

“Should I take out the ropes like last time ? Pull your legs apart ? I thought you learnt how to behave.” he said with a smile. “Or did you enjoy this so much that you want to try again ?” 

Losing control from time to time was nice. But not tonight, you needed the contrary. You need to feel in control of your body. The next few days were gonna be stressful. One of your hands dared to come rest on his cheek as your legs opened against his hand. 

“Good girl..” he said, his lips coming to nuzzle against your hand. And as usual when a kiss comes first teeth soon follow. His fingers able to slide under your pants and underwear come to slide in between your folds feeling the wetness of yourself under his burning gaze. 

“Just as I thought.” he smiles as one of his fingers pushes inside you and you answer with a moan. His lips nibbling on the flesh of your palm, eyelashes brushing against your fingers as he starts going back and forth with his fingers inside of you. 

Your head resting against the pillow of the couch, eyes closing as another moan came from between your lips as he pushed another finger inside of you. The fingers of your hand slowly extended to grasp onto strands of the man’s hair, while the other came gripping on the back of the couch. 

“That’s it. Let yourself go, kitten.” A growl soon followed when you tug at his hair when his thumb rested against your clit making small circles as he never stopped pumping his fingers in and out of you. 

You arched your back, the stimulation of his fingers rubbing against that one G spot inside of you and his thumb massaging your clit made you see stars. You tug on his hair once again in another sound, coming under his watchful gaze. 

“Sylus…” 

“It’s okay. I’m here. I’m always here.” he answered, coming to put a kiss on your forehead. 

Once he pulls his fingers out of you, he slides a hand under you to carry you against him. You look up at him, arms sliding around his neck to secure yourself. 

“And you ?” 

“Oh ? Are you asking for more, sweetie ?”” he chuckles as you frown at him. His lips slowly come against your own to kiss you once more. “This is what I wanted. Nothing more for tonight. But I can not promise you anything just like this for tomorrow.” A devilish smile spreads on his lips. 

“Did you have a shower already ?” 

“I did… Earlier.” you answered as you rested your head against his shoulder. “What about food ?” 

“You are hungry aren’t you.” He said as he settled you down on the bed. “Tell you what. I will come bring you some food and you can enjoy some while I take a shower. Sounds good ?” 

“Sounds good. I will try to not eat everything.” You smile. 

And just like that three days passed. Now you were standing in front of the door, arms crossed on your chest and Sylus blocking your way with his hands on his hips. 

“I will not change my mind Sylus. I need to attend this auction alone.”

“What if I’d like to be charitable tonight?”

You scoff. “Please. You just want to keep your eyes on me.”

“I want to make sure you are safe and sound.” 

“And I told you I can defend myself. If the HQ knows that I am attending an official mission with the boss of Onychinus, I could get in trouble. Because they will keep an eye on me ! Just like you do.” 

Sylus sighs. You could be so stubborn. He slowly raised his hand to pinch his nose’s bridge. “Take Mephisto with you at least. He could help you in any case of an emergency.” 

“That noisy little…” you were met by a glare that was telling you to not push your luck so you resigned. “Okay.”

“Good.” As soon as you agreed to his terms, he snapped his fingers and Mephisto almost appeared on your shoulder. Resting his claws against the fabric of your dress. “I will drive you there. And I will be there again to pick you up soon after Mephisto lets me know the auction has ended. Understood ?” 

“Yes mom.”

He chuckles before pushing the door open, letting you leave the safe base first to get to the car parked in front of the entrance. He soon followed and got inside the car to start driving across the dark streets of the N109 Zone. Mephisto was awfully quiet, head turning around at each corner, as if the bird was already on a mission analyzing what was around him. You stared mindlessly at the street lamps barely shining some cold light on the pavement beneath them as you fondle with your bag between your fingers. 

You were stressed. Stressed to not be able to bring back that diary. What if you came back in Linkon city with nothing to offer but the news that another potential monster had this fucking diary between their hands. How many children would have to suffer from experiments and be kept in the dark before they all stopped ? Without realizing it, you started clenching on your accessory. And the hand of Sylus left the gearbox to come rest on your thigh in an attempt to soothe you. 

“Do not be anxious. People coming to those kinds of fake charity auctions hunt down people like you. Nice face, seemingly weak and rich.” he said. “Mephisto is a sign that you are under my watch but he can’t dissuade them from doing anything if they are crazy enough to try.” 

“So I need to appear confident…” 

“Exactly. I know you can do it. After all, you showed me your acting skills more than once.” he pressed his thumb against your thigh as he kept looking at the road in front of you. “I’m not here physically but Mephisto is my eyes. And I’ll keep an eye on you.”

“I know.” you sighed before taking another deep breath. It will be okay, you thought, Sylus is right. You had to have faith in yourself and in him. It will go by so quickly, you won’t even realize it. 

The car slows down and you are now parked in front of an immense building, maybe even taller than some of Sylus’s ones. You look up from your seat as Mephisto mimics you. “Where are we ?”

“The place of the auction. The HQ of the Eurydike cult. Weird bunch of fuckers.” 

You hummed before pushing the door open, before closing it you looked at your partner flashing him a smile. “I will be back.” He softly smiles back waving, asking you to be careful once more. And you closed the door, walking towards the entrance of the building, taking out the invitation out of your bag to show the bodyguards that you were allowed to enter the place. 

As soon as you stepped foot inside, you were faced with a display of wealthiness and laughter coming from every corner of the giant hall. You were taken aback, thinking for a second that the only man you thought was this wealthy in the N109 Zone was Sylus. The hall was made of black marble with golden cracks, contrasted by high white walls that reflected the light of the candlesticks. Hanging banners here and there with an unknown insignia, and false plants hanging in green. You looked around, looking for a sign indicating the location of the meeting. But unfortunately the place was badly indicated, this auction was probably a place of regulars. However you spotted some people whispering about getting their place already to get closer to the stage, and you figured it would be the best idea to follow them around. Which you did. Everyone here was accompanied, and you were alone. Well accompanied but by a bird that started to get agitated. The sound of your heels against the marble under your steps was ringing in your mind. You stopped near a waiter, grabbing a glass of champagne. You needed to relax, you needed to look like you belonged here. Alcohol might help you settle down. 

So you went to sit at the first row, crossing your legs as Mephisto left your shoulder to take place on the chandelier hanging above your head. You could see some of the objects being displayed on the stage in front of you. Vases, stuffed animals, jewelry and… Wait. Was that one of Raphayel’s painting ? You frowned while taking your phone out of your purse to take a picture. Before you could press the button, you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

You flinched, turning around. “Miss. Sorry to bother you but you are not allowed to take pictures in this room.” A man with green eyes gazed upon you. He was tall, his hair and lashes almost hiding the gaze that you could feel burning on your face. His face did not seem upset, nor angry. Good… The last thing you needed was to attract angry people. 

You smiled. “Sorry, I just wanted to make sure that painting would interest my husband before I start bidding on it.”  

“Oh ?” He looked up at the stage staring at the painting of the seashore painted with different shades of blue and orange, with the silhouette of a faceless woman dipping her feet in the water. “Hm. It is indeed a wonderful painting. From a very famous painter from Linkon City. Although it is one of his earliest works.” 

“Are you familiar with this painter ?” you asked, interested in the knowledge of the person in front of you. To faint uninterest you slowly raise your glass to your lips looking away from the man.

“Familiar would not be right. We are acquaintances.” He then looks down at you smiling as he circles around the chair to finally sit next to you. “Although we haven’t seen each other for many years.” 

“I see.” you nodded looking at that man dressed in white, your eyes landing on the cross shaped brooch on his tie. You swore you have seen this insignia somewhere. “And you are ?”

“Shh little miss. It’s starting soon. We will have all the leisure to chit chat after that auction is done.” 

The auction began, and you drank the rest of your drink before waving to a waiter to come and get rid of you. Under your seat as under that of all the other participants was a small booklet with the passage numbers of each work or object. The one you were looking for was in last place. A sigh escaped from your lips as the first sums of money were thrown out of control. 

Beside you, still stood this same man, his left leg crossed above the right and his hands clasped on his knees, looking at the scene with a satisfied smile. With the light down, you took the time to linger on her face. He had it very hard, like a man who had to face situations that those of Linkon city did not have to face. But this sweet smile on his lips came in contrast with the portrait that could be made of him. You wondered if Sylus knew the man. You slowly raised your head to look towards Mephisto who was looking straight at you under his watchful red eyes. Just like his master. 

An hour and half passed, and you were starting to get numb to all the money that was being spent. The man next to you also did spend some money. He bought the painting you were eyeing earlier. And then came the mention of the diary. 

As soon as you could, you raised your hand to bid. With a glimpse of mischievousness, the man next to you raised his hand. Followed by some other people in the room. After nearly a minute of bidding, you raised your hand again. 

“Please stop playing sir. My husband is rather interested in this diary.” you muttered to the man next to you. “Stick to your paintings.” 

A suppressed laugh came as an answer as your bid was registered as a final answer. The hand of the man next to you extended towards you as the lights turned on. “It’s a pleasure to be doing business with you, little miss.” 

You frowned looking at the man’s gaze. “Business ?” 

“I am the owner of this building and the organizer of this auction. My name is Castiel, pleasure meeting you.” 

You gasped as you came to shake his hand. Dear god, why did you have to talk like that to the man who setted up a charity auction. This is why his brooch reminded you of something, it was literally plastered in the hall. 

“I am very sorry for my-”

“No offense is taken. Should we talk privately ? I will give you this diary your husband so wishes to have.” he lets go of your hand, getting up before offering his arm. 

“Yes.” you nod as you get up too, sliding your hand on the man’s arm. You were so giddy with the idea of success that you nearly didn’t realize Mephisto was cawing. 

However if you didn’t notice, it was not the case of Castiel that turned his head up towards the bird with a frown. He then asked the security to take care of it, and before you could step in and prevent this from happening, you were dragged into the man’s office. 

Once in his office, he let go of your hand. He headed towards the back of his desk, unlocking what sounded like a chest. In the meantime, you take the time to look around. The place was dark, but golden and green touches enhanced the place. You were basking in a warm light which contrasted with the cold atmosphere that was outside the sacred building. You did not move from the entrance, waiting patiently for you to be given what you had bought. 

“This book was retrieved from a bad man’s hands.” His voice broke the silence that was installed between you two. “If your husband really is interested in this script, you should be careful of him.” He said as he got closer to you handing the overused diary. 

“I will keep that in mind.” you nodded before taking the diary out of this man’s large hands. 

He smiled, flashing his perfect teeth to you. This close, you could see the eyebags between his vibrant eyes. A shiver ran up your back. “I hope our paths will cross again, little miss. If charity is what you are looking for, we could always use new members.” 

Charity… “Sure. I would love to stop by once again. The fate of the N109 zone is very dear to me afterall.” You smiled. 

He hummed. “Smart girl.” his fingers brushed your chin before you stepped back. “We should get going, your husband will surely show up in about a few seconds .”

Before you could answer, Castiel’s hand was on your free wrist and was dragging you out of his office, back into the auction room and in the middle of it stood Sylus. A visibly displeased Sylus. Almost angry. He shouted your name as soon as you came into his vision. The man with dark brown hair let go of your hand softly, placing his hand on your naked back. 

“You should go, little miss. I’d hate for your husband to scare away my guests.” 

You mindlessly nodded as you felt a sensation creeping up your back, and you almost trotted back to Sylus, pushing through the bodyguards preventing him from getting closer to their leader. Once in arms reach, the white haired man pulled you under his arm, hiding you beneath his coat. 

And yet as you were leaving the scene, you could feel Castiel’s gaze burning holes in your back.

[theresattrpgforthat]

TTRPGs for people with dyscalculia?

THEME : Dyscalculia Friendly.

Hello friend, I’m going to first point you to the Math-Lite Chaotic Murder Hobos recommendation post I wrote up a year or two ago.

What I understand about dyscalculia is that in can affect the ability to do mental math, but I'm not sure how much it affects number recognition. I have a few games here that ask you to read the faces on a die, but I don't think any of them expect you to do any addition. I hope you find something fun on this list!

Cats of Catthulu, by Joel Sparks.

CATS OF CATTHULHU is the beloved rules-light roleplaying game in which the players take the part of ordinary cats, secretly defending human civilization from the Chaos Cults of the other animals. All the players have to do is act like cats, while the Cat Herder arranges exciting challenges for them—anything from snacky time to daringly interrupting dire rituals.

In Cats of Catthulhu, the way the story will go is always a mystery. You and your friends play to find out what happens. One person, the Cat Herder, arranges the secrets and situations, and sets the scene, but even they don’t know where the night will end. The players take the role of individual, ordinary cats. All you really need to do is act like a cat.

It might be a bit difficult to get your hands on them, but the original dice for Cats of Catthulhu don’t have any numbers on them; instead, they have sad cats and happy cats. Whenever a cat does something, they roll 2 of these dice. Rolling a Happy Cat is a success; rolling a Sad Cat is a failure. The reasoning behind these dice is: cats can’t do math!

If you can’t get your hands on cat dice, you can use any old d6, and regard 1-2 as Sad Cats and 3-6 as Happy Cats. You’ll also want to get some kind of physical token to use as Treats, which are player currency used to allow free re-rolls. Cats of Catthulhu is great for groups who are mostly getting together to just have a fun time, ready to act silly and get into all kinds of shenanigans.

DUSK, by Gila RPGs.

Equipped with the latest suntech, you are tasked with venturing out into the Dusk, and helping bring a new dawn to humanity. The Dusk does not want you there. 

Good luck.

In DUSK, you play as Shards, survivors on the planet Obron after the devastating nova-event that saw your world destroyed. Now you wield powerful technology fueled by pieces of your dead sun, in hopes of surviving another day. DUSK uses the LUMEN 2.0 system, and is a diceless RPG focused on resource management rather than luck or chance. 

As a diceless game, DUSK feels a lot different from a number of other diceless games, and I think that’s because of the style of game it’s working off of. LUMEN games are more about strategy than they are about narrative, and in DUSK that’s carried forward in the form of Suntech, items that require energy to power and provide specific advantages.

DUSK is still a relatively new game, but the designer is prolific in the amount of quality work he’s released in the past - and so when he says that there’s more to come, you best believe there’s more to come. If you’d still like to roll dice but you like the idea of the setting in this game, you might want to check out NOVA, which also uses the LUMEN system but gives you dice to roll or LUNA, a game about cultists trying to destroy the moon. Both of these games use pools of d6’s and ask you to look for the highest number, so I don’t think there’s that much math involved.

CASE & SOUL, by Briar Sovereign.

CASE&SOUL is a lightweight tabletop game for telling action-packed stories in the mecha genre. CASE&SOUL is designed for one-shots and short to mid length campaigns. Speed through a lightweight downtime; hire freelancers to pad out your Crew’s skills on missions. Customize your playbooks with SOUL moves, and enjoy a cut-down FITD gameplay with just the essentials for fast and flexible sessions.

Forged in the Dark games use a dice pool, rather than abilities with modifiers. You add dice from various places on your worksheet, and try to roll at least one 4 or higher. Rolling a 4 or 5 is usually a mixed success, and rolling a 6 is a complete success. Personally, I’m a big fan of games that use dice pools, as I’m also not a fan of trying to add up all of those numbers, and having to just look for the single highest dice helps speed up action resolution.

At the same time, Forged in the Dark games can have a lot of moving pieces at once, especially if the GM wants to track a large number of factions, or players want to plan multiple-stage missions. CASE & SOUL advertises itself as a slimmed-down version of these kinds of games, but I can’t tell whether or not that is the case when I look at the character sheets. What intrigues me is the CASE and SOUL tracks; I think your CASE is your Mech, and it receives Harm differently than your SOUL, which is an interesting way to measure how much your mech is (or is not) part of you.

Keyforge: Secrets of the Crucible, by Edge Studio.

In the center of the universe hangs the Crucible, a gigantic artificial world created by the enigmatic Architects and home to countless beings and cultures. Here, impossibly advanced technologies mix with arcane powers to make for a setting unlike any other! Uncovering the secrets of this mysterious world will take all your skills—but the potential rewards are boundless…

Explore this world of boundless opportunity in Secrets of the Crucible, a new sourcebook for the Genesys Roleplaying System set in the KeyForge universe!

You’ll need the Genesys Rulebook for this one, because the main reason I’m recommending Secrets of the Crucible is because of the dice system. Genesys dice don’t use numbers; they use symbols that represent success and failure - and they also have symbols that deepen the nuance of each roll. You can roll advantages or disadvantages that calibrate exactly how much you succeed, as well as triumphs or despairs that give you the same kind of highs and lows as a Nat 20 or a Nat 1 in D&D. This means that each roll tells you so much more about what’s going on around you than just whether you open a door or sweet-talk a guard.

As for the setting, Keyforge is originally a card game published by Fantasy Flight games, about a world called the Crucible, full of secrets that various factions are competing to unlock. It reminds me of the worlds of Magic: the Gathering or League of Legends, with various settings that look very distinct from each-other, and represent different styles of play.

SHIVER, by Parable Games.

WHAT IS SHIVER?

SHIVER is a tabletop roleplaying game that lets players bring their favourite scary movies, spooky tv shows, and horror stories to life. Ever wanted to play through the plot of your favourite film on the tabletop? Or wanted to make sequels, prequels and original stories in the worlds of pop culture you love? SHIVER lets you play that!

SHIVER is setting neutral allowing you to play any story, anytime, and as anyone. Want to play a game of teens in survival mode against a zombie horde? Kids on Bikes who dread exploring a haunted house on Halloween night? Or perhaps a medieval monster hunter looking for a werewolf, vampire or mage? SHIVER can deliver stories and characters for anything from cult pulp classic to Cthulhu fuelled eldritch mystery.

The designer of SHIVER set out with the goal of making games easier for his friends, who had similar struggles with games that had too much math involved. Players roll six-sided and eight-sided dice with various symbols on them, looking for the symbol that represents their character's strengths. The more difficult the task is, the more of the required symbol you need. The game itself is recognized as a class-act horror game, good for everything from pulp-action to gothic fiction to slasher horror. If you don't have the special dice, you can substitute with d6's & d8's, or you can use the free Dice Roller designed for this game.

Tournament Arc, by Biscuit Fund Games.

Are you looking to experience the triumphs and defeats of Space Hyper-Basketball? Need to feel the epic highs and dizzying lows of card games in the post-apocalypse? Want to face the trials and tribulations of the cheese-rolling World Circuit?

Tournament Arc is your very own collaborative sports anime experience, made in the diceless Belonging Outside Belonging engine popularized by games like Dream Askew and Wanderhome. In every thrilling episode, you’ll play the part of the Team as they negotiate the complexities of their daily lives, explore a collaboratively created world, and, most importantly, play the Game.

Tournament Arc is both diceless and GM-less, and is designed to tell stories about teambuilding and competitive sports, although the setting appears to be pretty flexible. The Belonging Outside Belonging game system provides each character type with prompts, and sorts those prompts into different categories. Usually there will be some things you can always do that generate tokens as well as narrative obstacles, and then other things that you can only do when you spend tokens - and as a result, also help characters confront those narrative obstacles. If you have players that like having something tactile to keep in their hands as they play, you might like Tournament Arc.

Warehouse Bitches, by Darling Demon Games.

The Time Worm arrived as it was prophesied just as the crown fell upon his head, and all potentials collapsed into a single haunted citadel, which you call Hex City. You are transgender punks and goths from earth, and in this place your powerful hearts make you witches, daemons, beast-people and arcane architects. We bide our time, smoking and drinking, playing video games and eyeing the crumbling walls of our enemy, The Lord of Olympus.

In Warehouse Bitches, you play as one of the titular warehouse-dwelling trans folk in the hellish Hex City. In this GMless Belonging Outside Belonging game with a unique coin-flip mechanic, you'll wield magic, build allies across the city and fight back against the bastards in subtle ways.

I’ve already explained a bit about how Belonging Outside Belonging works, but Warehouse Bitches adds another layer by using coins as tokens. Using coins, your options are different depending on whether or not the coin is on Heads or Tails. The moves on your character sheet are not just differentiated between Strong and Vulnerable, they’re also differentiated between Heads or Tails, and you must have matching sides of the coins showing in order to be able to use those moves. Characters also have Magic moves, which require the player to flip every coin they currently hold, and reassign those coins based on whatever side they land on.

Warehouse Bitches has only 4 playbooks as it stands now, so a group of 4 players is probably the largest group that can play the book as it stands now. The game is GM-less, but looking at the rules, I think it would be possible to have someone pick up the GM role in order to introduce complications and narrate the actions of various other factions in town. Similar to other BoB games, there are zones that have various elements and details that need to be decided as you play, which will also help provide events and interesting features that keep the game fresh and exciting.

[gildedneon]

That Which I Cannot See

That Which I Cannot See - Part 1 - Pure Imagination

Respectfully, you may not use my work, but you are welcome to share it. My work is only intended for those 18 and older as it contains explicit adult themes.

Summary: Basically A Star is Born but make it Sleep Token. A video of you singing Take Me Back to Eden gets attention online and you're invited to sing backup vocals at their next concert. Only, you end up doing a lot more than just that. The first in what will be at least a 3 part series.

Pairing: Vessel x Fem!Reader 

Tags: Hand stuff (for now), mask play, concealed identity play, obscured vision/partial blindfolding, is this a musical now?, shower play with the lights off, monster kink? if you squint?, spiritual cult leader Vessel, dirty talk.

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: I enjoy candlelit showers while blasting Sleep Token and inspiration struck one day while listening to Take Me Back to Eden. What if? So I wrote it. I have already planned out a part 2 & 3, so fear not, our journey has just begun.

Read on Ao3

-------------

So there I was, doom scrolling Instagram when *ping*

“Sleep_Token: We loved your video” My brows furrow. That can’t actually be their official account. Tapping the notification, I switch to my finsta, where I post anonymous videos of myself singing. I recently shared a clip of an acoustic cover of Take Me Back to Eden that got a decent amount of attention, but I didn’t think it got that much attention. The message thread opens just as another is coming in. 

“Sleep_Token: How would you feel about joining us sometime?” What the hell? 

I click their profile. Blue check mark. Holy shit. Shock has me so caught up I can’t even think of a clever response. Or any response for that matter.

What does ‘joining us' mean? Like for an orgy or going to a show? Because I’m down for both, but I only have tickets for one of those things. At least my brain is still cracking jokes. I stare at my phone and figure out something to say.

“Hi! Thanks! I actually will be at the show this Friday. I can’t wait :)” My heart does a little somersault as I hit send. 

“Sleep_Token: Perfect. Our manager will reach out for details. Bring something black to wear. We’ve got the rest covered!”

What the fuck does that mean? Reaching out for details for what? What is ‘the rest’ and how is it ‘covered’???

*ping*

The DM from the manager comes in. 

On auto-pilot, I go back and forth with the manager. Realization sets in… I’m going to be backstage at the Sleep Token show. I’m going to meet the Espera and sing with them. On stage. At the Sleep Token show. Friday. In less than a week. What the fuck.

Four days… I have four days to perfect my outfit. Immediately, I FaceTime my best friend. She answers on the second ring.

“Callie… you’re never gonna believe this.”

“Alright??… spill bitch”

-------------

My stride lengthens to keep up with the woman leading me through bright lit hallways. The week had flown by in a blur. Now it’s Friday and I’m being led backstage in sweats and a tank. I hadn’t fully wrapped my head around their invitation. But what I really hadn’t wrapped my head around was what had been developing since that night. Once I had gotten off the phone with Callie, I saw I had a DM request from a username I didn’t recognize.

“Hey it’s V” I think my brain had short circuited. It all felt like it came out of nowhere. I guess that’s the thing about change, it doesn’t happen until it just… does. We had started chatting  and it continued throughout the week, getting to know each other a bit, what we enjoy, what we don’t, our favorite colors, and even a bit of flirting. Another strange development in a situation that materialized all too quickly. But it was exciting. It has been a while since I’ve been truly excited about something or …someone. 

I think it helps that we don’t really know each other. Our identities are a secret. It’s sort of like getting to know the contents of a box without getting to know the box, if that makes sense. It’s hard to explain, but I like it. Being myself comes easier this way. There are less distractions.

My guide comes to a stop and knocks on a door. Anticipation grips me as it opens, a woman dressed in black greets us with a smile on her face. 

“Come on in! We’re excited to meet you.” The Espera, or the three female background vocalists, usher me into the dressing room and to a spot in front of the mirror. Their welcoming energy helps quell my buzzing thoughts. We fall into easy conversation as I work on my hair and makeup. The dress I chose is sexy but functional. Thin straps, square neckline dipping in a quick plunge, finished off with a thigh high slit. My hair tumbles around my shoulders and down my back in a lion’s mane of waves. My lips are painted the darkest shade of red, the only real part of my face that will be seen from behind the gold mask that lays on the counter before me.

The Espera give me a crash course in backup vocals. No pressure, just last minute winging it in front of 13,000 people. I still can’t wrap my head around this, even as they help fit the mask to my face. It looks just like theirs, intricate bronze scrollwork curling down my cheeks, leaving only my mouth and jaw exposed. The mesh panels over the eyes allow me to make out shapes and light. So I can see plenty, but it doesn’t feel that way. For me, I might as well be blind. It’s the feeling of being out of control, a vulnerability that leaves me a bit raw and on edge.

A knock raps at the door and my ears grasp at every little sound, attempting to make up for my lack of sight. The women gather as it clicks open. Their blurry forms disappear to the sounds of scuffling shoes. The door closes. My blurred vision watches as a dark figure slowly makes its way across the mirrored space. Fully blind I would know it was him. The magnetism of his presence is threatening to drag me in like the gravity of a blackhole. It’s supermassive…

I hold my breath as he surveys me. It would be a lie to say that I am not intimidated under his gaze. Despite the disguise, the feeling of vulnerability remains.

“This suits you. How does it feel?” He purrs his approval. The tension in my chest eases. 

“Thank you. How does what feel?”

“Your transformation.”

“Transformation? Into what?” My breath hitches, I can see his dark figure looming behind me.

“Your true self.”

“I’m not really sure what you mean by that. As excited as I am, I am also a little nervous.”

“What are you nervous about?”

“I’m not sure if it’s one specific thing. I just don’t know what to expect. I’ve never done this before. I know I’m wearing a mask but it still feels scary to have people actually watching me. This is worlds away from posting anonymous videos online.”

“I can understand. For us, the disguises are about showing the parts of ourselves that do not feel comfortable in our daily lives. Whether that is because we feel they should be hidden or we lack a suitable outlet. So it’s really not a disguise at all, but a revelation. By wearing this mask, I take off the invisible one I wear everyday. I embody the aspects of myself that I wouldn’t otherwise. So ask yourself… What would that feel like for you? Who would you allow yourself to be if you knew you were free from judgement?”

“I think it would feel freeing. But how am I supposed to figure that out tonight?”

“A lot can happen in just one night.”

Unsure of what to say, I sigh and tilt my head. A gentle tap on the side of my mask is his response. I stare straight ahead, looking upon our blurry reflections in the mirror.

“Envision yourself right now. A different version of you, a fantasy. Who could you be? How would you carry yourself? What presence do you bring? Take a minute. Close your eyes if you need. Think of the answer and then feel it. Become it. This is the transformation. It is first in your mind and then, in your being.”

I take a breath, close my eyes, and do as he says. I see the masked version of me, painted with black, a version of me that no one knows. Not even myself. She can be anything. I can be anything. This essence blossoms in my bones, radiating until it anchors itself into my being. Excitement ripples under my skin. I open my eyes.

“How does it feel?”

“It feels… different. I see myself but also… more.”

Vessel tilts his head.

“I saw paint. On my neck and it ran down.” Skimming my hands over my arms to illustrate my point.

“Stand.” I pray my knees don’t give out as I follow his command.. His proximity sends little electric waves skating along my skin.

“You know it’s true what they say. Depriving one sense, heightens the others. Close your eyes.”

I do as he says. Anticipation coursing through me.

“Touch, for example.” 

His hands skate up my arms, over my bare shoulders to my neck. His fingers stroke along my skin, pressing into the muscles and working at the tension. Other parts of me start to crave the same and the weight of arousal settles between my thighs. I exhale a sigh. His fingertips play along my skin, alighting little sparks. Just as I’m being lulled into a daze, he stops. Moving away from me, he leans against the counter, silently staring. The vulnerability isn’t as uncomfortable now. Security has replaced whatever fear I felt before. He reaches for something on the counter.

“May I? I have an idea for you with this paint.” 

“You may.” I tease lightly and I hear the sound of spinning plastic. 

The light of the room is dimmed as he steps closer. Both hands come around my neck and fear takes root in an instant. What am I doing? I’m alone with a man who is dressed like a demon god, his hands are wrapped around my throat, and we are in a room where no one can hear me scream…probably. Oh no…. Should I be worried about how that turned me on?

Instead of squeezing the air from my lungs, he works the paint onto my skin. His fingers splay as he drags his hands down both sides of my neck. His fingernails scrape over my collarbones, stopping just before the neckline of my dress. My eyes fall closed and I can’t help the sigh that escapes or the shudder that runs through my body. Nor can I help imagining what it would feel like to have his hands on my thighs. Leaving a sinful trail of evidence, as he explored more sensual areas of my body. Circling behind me, his hands clasp my arms, leaving one last mark.

“Look at yourself.” His deep voice jarring me from my haze. Even with my obscured vision, I can clearly see the twin trails of black that drag down my neck, stopping just before my breasts and the stark handprints on my upper arms.

“It looks like I’ve been marked by a monster.” I say, amusement clear in my tone. 

Silence. A brief moment of tension, then his hand wraps around my throat. He leans closer to me.

“Are you calling me a monster?” His teasing is mixed with tones of darkness. I shudder at the thrill. 

“No. Monsters are scary and I’m not scared of you” …Yet 

“Do you want to be scared of me?” His voice is low in my ear.

“Maybe a little” Maybe more than a little.

I see his head tilt in the mirror. I can’t see his eyes but I feel them flaying me alive, gleaning every dark desire snaking through my body. He releases me, putting a bit more distance between us. 

“As much as I would love to explore that, it’s about time we get ready to go on. You’ll be brilliant. If you get nervous just remember my touch and how it’s plain for everyone to see.” I could feel him wink at me as he said that. It wasn’t the worst suggestion. That would certainly distract my thoughts from wandering into anxiety, but it would distract me in other ways. Blushing, I step through the door he holds for me, and follow him down the hall.

-------------

Like a cutscene in a movie, suddenly I’m on stage and the show is taking off. The lights and sounds are overwhelming. I allow myself a few minutes to adjust. Slowly, I begin to pick up the swaying movements from the Espera. Taking cues from their hazy shapes. Then, I allow my voice to softly join theirs. The flashing mass of screaming fans mere feet away is difficult to tune out, but I let them blur into shapes through my mask and my voice rises to the music. With each song they play, my confidence grows, and I feel that vision of myself, from the dressing room, coming to life.

Well, I know what you want from me

You want someone to be your reflection, your bitter deception

Setting you free, so you take what you want and leave

Excitement strikes like lightning. Of course I knew this song was coming, but being a part of it? Dancing while every instrument reverberates through my body?  

Won’t you come and dance in the dark with me?

Tapping into that sensual side of me, I allow it to take form, my hips swaying to the rhythm. I trail my fingertips over my body, and pleasure ripples behind my touch. Hearing whispers of my voice wafting through the background is unreal.

Lipstick, chemtrails, red flags, pink nails

I once made a comment to Callie about how I fantasize about being in an orgy while this song plays because it never fails to turn me on. The way the beat builds and morphs, the lyrics on top of that, it feels like seduction. My voice vibrates through my being, sparking a dark desire that flares with the melody. My eyes fall shut as I remember our time together in the dressing room. I feel his phantom touch along my skin and surrender myself to the sensations.

You make me wish I could disappear

The music dies down, somber notes begin to rise. Recognition flutters in my heart. This is the song that first drew my attention to him… and his attention to me. My eyes snap open on instinct, despite my obstructed view, I see a dark figure approach me, blocking out the crowd. My heart begins to race. I tilt my masked face up at his towering form. He grabs my hand and leads me from behind my place in the background. There we are, front and center. I have no idea what he is doing or what he expects of me. My blood roars through my ears, beating against the tense curiosity of the all too quiet crowd. Curious cheers ring out, but my focus is drawn to him.

I dream in phosphorescence 

Bleed through spaces

My nails scrape restlessly against the fabric of my dress. I have no idea what he wants from me. We never talked about this. Am I just supposed to stand here? Am I supposed to sing a specific part or harmony? My thoughts race as panic begins to sink its claws into me. 

His finger curls under my chin. The gentle weight of him pulls me from the quicksand of my mind. 

I’m transfixed as he sings to me.

My, my those eyes like fire I’m a winged insect you’re a funeral pyre. 

A calm intensity settles in as I focus on the figure before me. Like a siren song his entire being draws me in until there is no one else. No crowd. Not even the band. Just him and me.

The music begins to build. I feel it in my chest. His hand lightly strokes my chin in invitation. The energy builds in my stomach and moves up my throat. God, it feels like it’s going to burst out of me. So I close my eyes and let it.

I will travel far beyond the path of reason. Take me back to Eden. Take me back to Eden

Our melody turns into harmonious wails. 

Take me back to Edeeeennn

My eyes open to a flash of white teeth as he grins down at me, the music continuing its heavy intensity. That grin against his mask and paint, looks every bit like the monster I mentioned. The music drops into a quiet tempo and he steps closer, leaning in as his hood brushes my cheek. 

“Stay.” He commands, before sauntering off, just as three chords are played. 

Well yeah I spit blood when I wake up

He crouches towards the swarming crowd as he recites the lines. Waving hands and screaming smiles line the front of the crowd. As I watch him move across the stage, I remember his painted marks on my skin. My cheeks burn as he approaches me again.

I need you to see me for what I have become

Long fingers wrap around mine, bringing my hand to grasp the microphone, joining him for the chorus. 

My, my those eyes like fire 

My voice is a sweet backdrop contrasting his, as we sing together until the beat drops off. The hand folded atop mine loosens, his arm falling slack and I let go of the mic. His free hand sneaks through my hair, cradling my head in his hand. The sounds of birds chirping flit around the notes of the piano. This intimate moment sets me ablaze as I remember there are thousands of people watching. Jealousy licks at my sides from the scrutiny of their gaze. I pay them no mind. 

His hands fall from my hair, as he lifts the mic, but sings to me.

I guess it goes to show does it not 

That we’ve no idea what we’ve got until we lose it

His words resonate through my chest. Understanding the opportunity tonight presents, I want to make the most of this night, of this connection, and just enjoy whatever is to come.

No amount of self-sought fury will bring back the glory of innocence

Sound pours from me as I join him singing once again. The music sweeps me along and I ascend with it.

We were tangled up like branches in a flood

What happens next takes me by surprise. Vessel loops an arm around my waist, drawing me in until my dress brushes against his belt. He screams the ending lines with such intensity I feel as if I’m being hit by a hurricane. I can barely make out what he’s saying. My heart seizes with another little thrill of fear. All I see is the fierce glint of teeth through the contortions of his mouth as the music fades out. 

Piano keys begin to play, as he leads me back to my place among the Espera. This is the last song of the show, Euclid. What a beautiful note to end on. I channel all the joy in my little heart into singing this final song. I know maybe the lyrics aren’t the happiest but I can’t help but feel light while singing it. Our voices fade out, as he brings things to a close.

The whites of your eyes, turn black in the lowlight

So give me the night, the night, the night…

-------------

We stopped by the dressing room long enough for me to grab my belongings and then he was leading me through more hallways. He holds a door open for me and I step into a gaudy locker room. Leading the way, I follow him through the space and into a long room. The harsh fluorescence glares off of the white tile lining the walls. On the left, is a mirrored wall of sinks and who knows what else. On the right, benches border each door frame, opening into showers. 

We walk a few stalls down, I hang my tote and arrange my clothes on the bench as he wanders away. Pulling out a hair tie, I twist my hair up into a messy bun. Butterflies twist through my belly as he returns to my side, hanging a towel on my hook. We’ve shared this entire night, this entire week, without seeing each other’s face, perhaps we’ve seen a deeper truth. Either way, I’m not ready for it to end.

Inspiration strikes and I stride back to the main door and begin to flick the lights off one by one until all that is left is the glow of the adjoining locker room. His masked face tilts as his attention focuses on me. Grabbing the door handle, I pull it closed behind me until only a necessary sliver of light shines through. Giving my eyes a second to adjust, I carefully make my way back to my bench. I feel another thrill of excitement at the atmosphere. The near pitch black, the silence all around us, almost like something you’d see in a scary movie. I hear clothes rustling from the bench he is at. I’m still working on undoing the straps of my heels when I hear the harsh splash of water against tile. Once all of my outfit has made it into my tote, I take cautious steps into the awaiting shower.

“I wanted to keep the mystery going but maybe it’s a bit too dark.” So dark, that I can barely make out the other person in my proximity. My hands feel along the cool tiles for support.

“Give it a minute. Your eyes will adjust.” He’s calm. Still. Giving me space to acclimate. No longer clutching at the wall, I can make out the shape of him easier. Barely, I see the steam from the water and pumps of soap attached to the wall.

“Will they adjust enough to be able to tell the difference between which is the soap and which is the conditioner?” I tease.

“Hmm might have to go with good ole trial and error on that” Our laughter echoes against the walls. 

Stepping closer, I let my gaze wander. The lines of his muscles catch what little light there is. My breath hitches, the difference in our height is exaggerated now that I am barefoot. The way he looms over me keeps his face masked in shadow. Again, the thrill of being alone with this strange, dark god shivers through me, bringing my awareness back to the arousal that has been burning all night.

“Well I will gladly volunteer as the test subject.” 

“And I will gladly accept. I didn’t want to assume…”

“I would actually prefer if you do assume.” I step closer to him. Even in the pitch black I can see his head tilt down at me.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?”

“I did.  I’ve never experienced anything like it.” I say almost reverently.

“Shall we keep the experience going then?” A shiver runs through my body

“Yes.” I breathe..

“Sing for me?” My brows jump up. Posting videos of me singing alone in my house and singing background vocals could not prepare me for this.

“What do you want me to sing?”

“Anything” My mind goes blank all for one song. I take a deep breath to still my nerves. 

Come with me, and you’ll be, in a world of pure imagination

Tentatively, I recite the words.

Take a look and you’ll see

Into your imagination

There is no life I know

To compare with pure imagination

His voice joins mine. 

Living there, you’ll be free

I stop, allowing him to finish the verse

If you truly wish to be

Courage is easier found in the dark I realize, when my hands begin to trail along his chest and I continue singing.

If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it

Anything you want to, do it

My long nails gently scrape across his abs as his fingers trace the black paint along my chest.

“What a mess I’ve made.” The timbre of his voice sends desire rushing through me. Reaching back, he grabs something from one of the dispensers and lathers his hands. The creamy substance spreads down my shoulders as he begins to work out the tension in my muscles. His hands began to slip down to above my breasts. Working in slow circles. The combination of excitement and desire keeps my mind sharp despite the haze of lust. His thumbs swipe across my skin with a delicious pressure. Grasping the tops of my arms, he leans towards me and my lips hum in anticipation. His mouth grazes past my cheek. 

“I think… this is conditioner” He murmurs in my ear. I can’t help the surprised giggle that escapes me. I can feel his amusement even as he turns from me. The muted clicks of the dispenser can be heard over the shower stream. When he faces me again, the energy shifts. A thrill runs through me as he grabs the back of my neck with one hand.

“May I?” He echoes the familiar words he spoke earlier in the night.

“You may.” I breathe and his lathered hand begins running down my neck, as his other creeps up into my hair. My head tilts back. The glow from the distant light flashes off his sharp grin. His hand moves lower down my chest, as he works at the paint there. I’m not sure which is more arousing. Him painting me or washing it off. My nipples harden and a dull throb settles between my thighs just as his large hand sweeps over my breast. His fingers capture my nipple, flexing and rolling against my soft skin. I exhale shakily as he moves on to the other, giving it the same treatment. Grabbing my hips, he pulls me into the water, washing away his claim, his touch laying stake to a new one. Then he flips me around, I catch myself on the cool tile wall. As he steps closer, I can feel him pressed against me. 

“I very much enjoyed having my mark on you, clear for everyone to see.” His voice is low against my ear, as his lips drag over my neck, gently nipping at my skin. The hand on my right hip slides down my thigh. My legs tense in anticipation. His fingers begin swiping in teasing strokes, closer and closer to where I burn for his touch. 

“Tell me, what has you so wet for me?” I let out a whimper as his fingertips slide through the evidence of his claim. 

“Was it on stage? When I whispered in your ear?” Stay. I shook my head. That definitely turned me on but it wasn’t where it started. The memory of us in the dressing room, with his hands around my neck flickers through my mind. Just that quick thought stokes the already well fanned flames of arousal.

“Before the show in the dressing room” I say and receive a hum of approval. I’m rewarded as his finger dips inside me ever so slightly. His strokes are shallow, only increasing my need for him.

“What about it?” His fingers slow, urging me to respond. It’s hard to think through the fog of my desire.

“When you painted my neck.” Relief washes over me as he picks up his still too slow pace. His left hand moves from my hip, trailing over my fluttering stomach, paying brief attention to my breast, before sliding around my throat. My thighs clench around his hand before I can help myself, my body vibrating with anticipation.

“Ah so this is what you like?” His grip tightens as he speaks and my hips rock back desperate for more than this teasing. All I accomplish is grinding my ass against his cock. He inhales sharply but presses himself fully against me. 

“So eager.” He laughs. “Is this what you’ve wanted?” His fingers still move at a languid pace, but curl deeper inside me.

“Yes” I nod enthusiastically.

“But it’s not enough is it?” I shake my head. Because despite the pleasure I felt, the need was greater. The need to feel more of him, to have more of him. He obliges, sliding in a second finger. I cry out, my cheeks heat from embarrassment at the echo. I press my lips together, stifling my moans. His fingers still. He leans forward, his chest against my back, pressing me into the wall.

“Don’t stop singing for me now” He purrs and the rumble in his chest vibrates through my own.

“It’s just you and me. There’s no one else.”

I exhale heavily as my mouth parts. Right away, he rewards me with deliberate strokes of his fingers. The hand around my neck lazily works at the muscles there and waves of ecstasy shoot through me. My nails catch on the grout between the tiles as pleasure begins to coil tight in my muscles. I’m lost in the way my moans reverberate around us as his thumb carefully starts working my clit. It’s consuming. The stretch of his fingers, dragging over every sensitive spot inside me, playing my body like an instrument. His hips roll against my backside, grinding against me. I can feel the hard length of him, thick and hot against me. I begin to crave more and the thought alone of feeling all of him inside me brings me towards the peak. 

“Someday I will have all of you and you will have all of me. Until then I will have the memory of how wet and tight you are around my fingers. Wishing you were wrapped around my cock instead.” My hips rocked, practically riding his hand as the pleasure ramping up inside me spun so tight I felt it would snap at any moment. “Every time I look at my hand I want to remember how it felt to have you come on my fingers.” A ragged cry left my throat as his words pushed me over the edge. The tension inside me broke. Shattered shards of pleasure sliced through me as my body shook. His hand slipped out of me and I felt him work himself against my ass. Tremors skittered through me as I began to come down from my high. The cooling fire in my core alighting anew at the knowledge that he would soon follow. The hand around my neck had slid to brace himself against the wall.

“I want to feel you claim me again.” Shortly after those words left my mouth, I heard him groan. He shuddered against me as I felt hot spurts of him against my hip and back. His cheek came to rest against the top of my head. We stayed pressed against the wall as our breathing and heart rates slowed.

“Well I’m afraid I’ve made a bigger mess than when we started.” My body vibrates against his as I laugh. He pulls me back to the water and gets to work cleaning me off.

“Ves. Thank you, for tonight.” The nickname felt a bit strange on my tongue but appropriate given the standing of our relationship now.

“The pleasure was mine. Thank you for joining us and thank you for indulging me.” 

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“I’m flattered… We will see each other again, you know.” Now it’s my turn to tilt my head at his words.

“Will we?” The possibility hadn’t even crossed my mind. Everything happened so fast.

“If you would like… There is still so much left to explore.” Even in my sated state, the purr of his words spark arousal. 

“Oh I think I would like that very much.” Tension crackles between us. God if I don’t get out of here I’m going to be in over my head. Exhaustion was starting to creep into my bones. 

“I think it’s past my bedtime.” I say with a yawn. That gets a little laugh out of him.

“Well you run along home before I’m inclined to drag you back into this cave and never let you go.” Again, he’s teasing, but the edge in his voice promises something darker. “Or someone comes looking for us and turns all those awful lights on.” His hands grip my shoulders as he leans down and plants a kiss on the top of my head. “We wouldn’t want to ruin the mystery.”

“We sure wouldn’t” Reluctantly, I walk away. I dry off the lingering evidence of what just occurred between us, slip into my clothes, and return to the harsh light of reality.

[ckret2]

Conspiracy theories are an important part of the series' identity, what's wrong with them? Some have nasty implications if you really overthink it, but they're generally fun

I didn't say I'm not gonna include conspiracy theories in the story altogether. I said I'm not validating any REAL WORLD conspiracy theories, and I'm not talking about antisemitic & racist conspiracy theories. I'm happy to crack jokes debunking or mocking real world conspiracy theories. I'm happy to create new conspiracy theories for the fic that are totally divorced from any existing conspiracy theories.

But when I'm talking about the ones I'm not playing with, I ain't talking about "Elvis is still alive" conspiracies here. With a lot of the most oft-referenced goofy-sounding high profile conspiracy theories, they're not nasty "if you really overthink it." These theories are, in their very origins, vehicles for hatred toward minority groups. Browse for a while. Notice how many of the conspiracies that have ridiculous traits that make them seem fun on the surface are past the antisemitic point of no return.

Secret reptilian overlords disguised as humans? A deliberate effort to disguise centuries-old antisemitic conspiracies. "Jews secretly control the world," "Jews help others of their bloodline gain & maintain power," "Jews drink the blood of Christian children"—blood libel is a thing that real people believe and have believed for centuries and has historically been used to justify killing whole Jewish communities—and the exact rhetoric used in these obviously antisemitic claims was reskinned for the "reptilian overlords" conspiracy. And which real people do you think believers in the conspiracy disproportionately accuse of secretly being cold-blooded inhuman monsters trying to disguise themselves amongst normal humans? Reptilian overlords is a popular one to make jokes about because "the president's a lizard in disguise" sounds funny when stripped of context—and typically the people making jokes either don't know where it came from or don't care.

Hell, the entire "a cabal of Jewish people sorry we meant 'global elites' secretly rules the world" is one of the oldest, most versatile, and most popular of antisemetic conspiracy theories.

And check out some of the more ridiculous-sounding ones that pop culture likes making jokes about.

Hollow Earth? That one's "inside the earth is a paradise populated by Vikings (the manliest white people!) and Nazis. Yay Nazis!" A whole bunch of secret continent/secret moon colony/hidden geography conspiracies are very "yay Nazis". The Illuminati secretly control everything? For approximately a century, "Jews + Freemasons + Illuminati control the world" has been an extremely prominent conspiracy theory that's branched off into countless other conspiracy theories still believed today (it fed into the reptilian overlord conspiracy, for instance). Adrenochrome? Hollywood (and other "global elites") are trafficking children to harvest a chemical from their blood that they can inject? This is literally just blood libel again. Satanic Panic, the idea that there are real Satanic cults sacrificing children left and right, and the goofy things resulting from the panic like Chick Tracts claiming D&D will damn you? Innocent people were sent to jail for murder because they were gothy enough to be accused of Satanism. People (including the right's favorite targets: immigrants and queer people!) spent decades in jail over accusations that they were ritualistically sexually abusing children—crimes that never even happened. Even less directly harmful shit like "aliens built the pyramids" is only possible if you begin from a position of assuming it's more likely ALIENS built the pyramids than that ancient African people were capable of doing it and then ignore the fact that we do know how the damn things were built.

I don't think it's entertaining for a fictional story to go "hey, you know this conspiracy that was created to promote prejudice against minorities and has been used to hurt and kill people? Wouldn't it be sooo silly if there were a world where it's actually TRUE?? Wouldn't it be so funny if the antisemites and racists and homophobes and fascists were right about everything?"

So no. I'm not gonna use a fictional setting to validate any real world conspiracies; and I'm not gonna bring a whiff of antisemitic & racist conspiracies into a goofy comedy setting.

[barrenclan]

is it weird i’m thinking about a werewolf cormorantpaw au?? is that normal to think about werewolf cats??

(This was my Patreon illustration for October 2023! Go check it out if you feel like giving me a couple dollars)

Okay so fair warning, I have slightly hijacked this ask to talk about my MHA AU instead! I came up with it in a feverish pitch on the Discord this summer. But it's basically a REVERSE werewolf AU so it's fine!! WEHEHEHE ANYWAYS

I'm sure all of you know the basics of MHA, everyone has superpowers and there's heroes and villains and whatnot. (I have my own problems with MHA but it is such a fun world to play around with. And it has Shigaraki, which is a notable point in its favor. Regardless) The backdrop for this AU is basically the human AU for PATFW - ratty small Nebraska town, Defiance is a secret cult in the woods, etc. You can read more about it in the 'human au' tag.

I didn't include descriptions for Cormorantpaw and Pinepaw's Quirks in the drawing because I wanted to explain them a little more - they're a bit complicated. Pinepaw's Quirk, Seeing Eyes, allows him to form eyes on any part of his body, and up to around 20 at one time. However, any more than that and he starts to get overwhelmed; and unbeknownst to him, he starts getting prophetic visions. Corm's Quirk, Beastform, lets him change into the design you see in the drawing, basically a big Set animal with heightened senses and strength. But since his Quirk activated, the longer he stays in the form, the longer it is before he change back.

(Daffodilpaw, Asphodelpaw, Slugpelt, Rainhaze, Nightberry, Deepdark)

These are the rest of the main characters that I came up with Quirks for, although I do have some vague ideas for a couple other characters.

Applying Quirks is the main AU thing that changes here, and it's a big one with Corm! So in short, Thrasher (Dustin Turner) in this AU would have been a thief villain whose Quirk was having wings and talon-like hands and arms, but eventually one of his wings gets ripped off and it destroys his career. So when he starts having kids with Hush Puppy (Hope Turner), he’s super Endeavor about it and begins testing them all for training. Cormorantpaw (Cesar) becomes his favorite because of his Beastform Quirk, so he really starts hammering on Cormorant and doing his canon typical horrible abusive training.

They don’t realize at first the limit on Corm’s Quirk, since it's super short and unnoticeable at first, but eventually they realize that each times he changes it gets longer to change back. Once Hush Puppy dies, there’s nothing stopping Thrasher and he forces Corm to constantly train and do crimes for him in his Beastform. So by the time that he’s dead, Cormorant is essentially stuck in his scary beast form, and everyone assumes he was just born with a really fucked up physical Quirk. And then he comes to BarrenClan town! That's where the "plotline" of this AU would kick in.

And I did have to throw in an actual werewolf Cormorantpaw drawing. Mostly so I can justify my unhinged anime AU.

[legallybrunettedotcom]

Can you recommend some good film podcasts to listen to?

for sure. i can't say that i follow any of these like super religiously, but i'd say all of these are pretty neat and now it's just a matter of which hosts/guests don't annoy you lol. also if anyone else has any more recs, do tell! :) the next picture show is roundtable discussions examining how classic films influence and inspire modern films so you’ll have something like all the president’s men and spotlight comparisons or the wicker man and the vvitch. cool for double feature movie nights.

the big picture has reviews, especially of latest movies, but they also talk about some arthouse stuff. they also do these like top 5 lists, oscars analysis etc. roundtables and interesting guests

the rewatchables both the big picture and the rewatchables are from the ringer website/network so hosts and guests overlap. it’s what it says on the tin. they rewatch movies and then do all these categories, personally my favourite and i think they're very funny.

you must remember this host does incredible research, it’s really about like secret and forgotten histories of 20th century hollywood. they did like a 12 part series on eroticism and sex in 80s cinema, now they moved onto the erotic 90s.

sleepover cinema is super fun and definitely the type of podcast i would want to have, just two friends talking about late 90s/early 2000s movies and pop culture in general that sort of shaped the collective unconscious of “girls and gays” as they say.

intermission from the cinegogue is super chill. they just invite guests and ask them a bunch of movie questions in a way that you would ask a friend, yk like if you could watch movies from only one country which one would you choose, or like favourite nepo baby director. but they also do reviews. blank check cover entire filmographies of directors

black on black cinema for black film reviews and discussions

reel asian podcast for asian and asian american film reviews and discussions

a piece of pie for lgbt films and topics and subtext and such

junkfood cinema for shitty and cult movies. also how did this get made is about bad movies we love.

space brains for science fiction

final girls horrorcast for horror, sci-fi, thrillers both well known and obscure

filmspotting and the film cast for reviews of new and old as well

sardonicast does pretty much everything

[so-mordor-itis]

Black and Blue, Still Singing For You

Inspired by @scariusaquarius 's series Unlikely Salvation (Go check them out pls-) I hope you guys enjoy! I actually felt pain writing this...mmmm pining

“To be careful with people and with words was a rare and beautiful thing.” -Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, Benjamin Alire Saenz (@leonskillshot ;) )

I.

The cold air of the lab brushed over your neck. You held back the urge to shiver as you passed through the mechanical doors, clipboard in one hand, coffee cup in another. This would be another long day, but at least you wouldn’t be bothered by anyone else–the lab was yours and only yours. You wouldn’t have to deal with judgmental looks or scowls from your peers as you jotted down notes on your latest subject.

“Having a rough day already?”

Said subject’s voice echoed from his glass chamber. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, a tired expression on his face as he attempted to greet you. His cheeks and rims around his own eyes were crowded with black streaks from the Plaga parasite in his chest. The whites of his eyes a milky yellow color, his pupils–which were once a radiant, icy blue–now a dull grey. Leon was sitting on the ground of his (you honestly would have called it a prison cell at this point) chamber, his legs criss-crossed as he patiently awaited whatever you needed him for. Your heart ached with pity every time you saw him now, but you couldn’t allow it to show. Leon didn’t want to see it.

You sighed, scanning over the papers you were given just an hour prior. “You know how it is. The higher-ups just love working me to the bone.”

“Oh yes,” Leon huffed a laugh. “They make you think you’re free, but suddenly you find a 500-page document on your desk the next day.”

“Mhm, story of my life,” you replied. Squinting at a string of sentences. Experiments were placed on hold for a week after realizing just how tender the parasite was. A single cut through it would sever Leon’s nervous system and kill him instantly. You didn’t want that, and the people in the chairs higher up certainly didn’t want their weapon to perish under odd circumstances. It was a risky situation all around. One you desperately wished was in someone else’s hands. Leon Kennedy was an asset, not just to the DSO, but to the President. Anything going wrong, from him dying due to the Plaga, or to him going absolutely feral and escaping, would lead to your job being thrown out the window. Or worse, you could die in his hands, and there would be nothing anyone could do to stop him.

A year ago, he was sent to Spain to retrieve President Graham’s daughter, who had been kidnapped. She was taken by a cult, one that worshiped a parasite they had discovered underground. A lot of the details were classified, and for some odd reason, you were given only a handful. Ashley Graham had been injected with the same parasite, but thankfully, he was able to get it removed before it evolved into the next stage. Leon, having been dealt the same card, wasn’t so lucky. He wanted hers removed first, placing her safety above his. Just as the parasite was about to be removed from his own chest, it evolved. Apparently, according to the Las Plagas files, Leon maintained his humanity somehow. Perhaps his will was too strong. Or he was just too stubborn.

Either way, your nerves were calmer, knowing he was somewhat in control of himself.

“What’s on the schedule today?” He asked you. He was trying to sound bored, but a part of his sentence felt wary. You didn’t blame him. You wouldn’t exactly be ecstatic to be poked and prodded with knives and injections. “I’m guessing more parasite testing.”

“Actually, you just got a new treatment,” you told him, now facing his direction. “Gonna try a new type of medicine.”

Leon blinked in surprise. “Will it work?”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” You tried to give him a hopeful smile, but knowing how resistant the parasite was to other treatments, you didn’t want to give him any false aspiration. “That’s not until later, so you get to keep your superpowers for now.”

“Yes, because that’s so exciting,” he drawled, crossing his arms. “Get to be friends with the little fucker in my chest some more.”

You snorted. “Other than that, I’m just here to take notes,” you groaned a little at the idea. “Again.”

“You get to keep me company for a little while longer, huh?”

“Yep, lucky for you.”

You turned around in your chair to get started before hearing his voice again. “I’m glad it’s you, today.”

You bit back a smile. “Like my company?”

“More than you think.”

I.5

The treatment proved to be fatal. Leon had coughed up blood as it was injected into his veins. The parasite wiggled in his chest, moving his ribcage back and forth as it fought against him. You stopped the medication right away, sighing with defeat.

“Sorry, Agent Kennedy, I guess you’ll have to hang in there longer.”

“Not your fault,” he said, wiping the blood from his mouth. You wished you were allowed to give him a tissue. “And you’ve known me long enough that you don’t need to be so formal. Just call me Leon.”

II.

You had met Leon a few times before all of this happened. Moreso just passing by him in the main office while delivering notes and progress reports. Despite his rugged exterior, he was charming. He had asked you if you’d like to join him for dinner once, but you had to decline due to a project you were assigned to then. Part of you worried he would be upset, but he was immediately understanding.

Fate was truly an evil mistress.

It was an awful feeling, not being able to actually interact with him. You felt as if you were watching a hamster in a cage. He slept, ate, breathed, did everything in that glass chamber, and all you could do was observe. It made you feel as if you were a part of the problem, part of the reason he was trapped in there, part of the reason he wouldn’t be able to smell fresh air again. Wouldn’t be able to feel another’s touch.

“Got something on your mind?” His voice interrupted your thoughts. He was standing now, leaning against the back wall, perhaps occupied with thoughts of his own.

You shook your head. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Well, considering you’re the person who has to be here, watching me, noting down my behavior, I can’t help but worry it is about me.”

“Actually, it’s not.” You paused, thinking if what you were about to say next was wise. “For once.”

“Am I on your mind a lot or is it the Plaga moving around?” He’s teasing you now, and you honestly appreciated the distraction.

“You know, I was gonna compliment you but now I’m just gonna ignore you.”

“Ow. Harsh.”

“You started it.”

You turned your back to him and you can’t help but wonder if he’s pouting. You wanted to know what he was thinking, if he also appreciated a distraction from what future experiments he would be subjected to.

“You don’t have to eat lunch here, you know.”

“Well, technically, I do.”

“No, I mean in front of me.” Leon scowled a little as he casted his glance at your food. “It’s rude, honestly.” He wasn’t actually upset, jealous maybe, but not angry.

“You can’t eat normal food anymore anyway.” You brushed him off.

Leon sighed. “I know, but still. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss it.”

You felt a little terrible. “I’m sorry. I guess I felt like I…actually nevermind.” You stopped the words from flowing, but you didn’t stop his curious gaze.

“What? You can’t say that and just expect me to ignore it.”

“It’s stupid.”

“Just say it. Can’t be more stupid than half the shit I’ve said to you the past few months.”

“Half of that was you high on pain meds.”

“It still applies.”

You gnawed on the inside of your cheek. “I felt like I owed you a date.”

“Owed me a date?” He echoed.

“You asked me to dinner at least a few times, and I couldn’t say yes to any of them.”

Leon blinked, realization slowly clouding his expression. “Oh. Well, if you think this is equivalent to a date…I’m a bit worried about how low your bar goes.”

You rolled your eyes, attempting to remove yourself from the spot on the floor. Your legs had started to cramp anyway.

“Hey, wait,” he said. You tilted your head in confusion.

“I didn’t say I wanted you to leave.”

You gaped at him, heart fluttering in your chest. You glanced at the office clock, your lunch break ended in five minutes. This was so stupid, getting close to your subject simply because he was a man you once knew, once thought you had a small crush on.

Though you supposed sometimes the most unwise idea was the best one.

You sat back down and somehow he no longer looked miserable.

III.

You had been transferred to another lab, away from him. You knew this would inevitably happen, not even for personal reasons, but simply because they needed you in a different department. Yet, part of you couldn’t help but believe it was because you started treating Leon more as a human than as what your co-workers saw him as: a test subject that needed to be tested. Needed to be worked on, carved into their image.

Four months went by before you finally saw him again.

You were informed by your superior that they finally found a treatment that made the parasite lose its grip on his system, but they still wanted to keep him in that chamber. To watch. To observe. To keep him as their little guinea pig. All you had to do was keep watch for the final time. You had the best notes, after all. Had known him the best before this all blew up and caused such a ruckus.

Leon looked almost the same as the last time you saw him. The black lines on his face and hands had slowly faded, but the ones on his chest and biceps still lingered. The medication was working, but slowly. Once he saw your face, his eyes lit up, his heart monitor beeped a little faster and you couldn’t help but find that endearing.

“Been wondering where you’ve been,” he commented. You could tell he didn’t want to say he missed you, but you knew him well enough to know the undertones of his words. Leon wasn’t the best at communicating, but his actions always spoke louder. “They transfer you out of state?”

“Something like that,” you approached the glass, not wanting to admit he was more handsome now. His face was less sickly and his eyes were no longer sunken into his skull. His cheekbones were more defined. He was getting better. “I hope they didn’t treat you too poorly while I was gone.”

Leon shrugged. “I mean it was the same, besides hearing your voice every other day.” His eyes met yours now and you felt your heart flutter again. “I kinda missed your stupid jokes.”

“Oh, my jokes are stupid?”

“Very.”

“Have you heard the words that come out of your mouth?”

Leon laughed a little and suddenly the room felt brighter.

“Well, lucky for you, you get to hear me all day.” You said, poking the glass as if you were trying to poke him.

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze not wavering away from yours. “Lucky me. You still owe me another date.”

You rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue out at him. He only smiled again and you peel yourself away from the glass to sit in that all familiar office chair, and the all too familiar feeling of Leon’s gaze was once again glued to your back.

You wondered how long it would be until you could actually tell him you hated the way he made you feel. If you ever could.

If there would ever be a timeline where you two could actually go on a date, and he could kiss you the way you wanted him to.

~

Tags:

@seraphiism , @uhlunaro , @izuniias , @honeyfict , @konigbabe , @airanke , @muffimtv , @justonemore-fic , @mandalhoerian , @tosuckmyweenis , @boundinparchment

[just-jordie-things]

[intro] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 4k warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting. series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them. the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great. keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.

series masterlist ___

(y/n’s) cursed technique: [Hexing Eye]

Once she is in close quarters, she’s able to place a hex on her opponent, by conjuring her cursed energy and touching them.  Thus rendering her able to teleport herself to them- or rather, her hex.  

This gives her the ability to move about a larger territory with ease.  

She currently hopes to place a hex without touching someone, in order to warp without the extra step.  She hasn’t been able to master this ability yet.

[ introduction ] : "Find The Star Plasma Vessel" ___

[shoko<3]: this mission sounds more serious than the last few you guys have been sent on.  you’ll be safe? 

[(y/n)]: ofc i will be &lt;3

[(y/n)]: besides, i can do this on my own, i don’t have to deal with those idiots this time.

[shoko<3]: that’s why i’m worried.

[(y/n)]: you think i can’t protect myself?

[shoko<3]: i know you can protect yourself.

[shoko<3]: but i don’t like the idea of you being alone out there.

(y/n) chuckled, sending back another sarcastic remark to her over-worried friend.  She was starting to sound like a certain white haired sorcerer that she would just hate to be compared to.  But she worked herself up over nothing.  (y/n) was more than capable at carrying this assignment on her own.

Tucking her phone back into her pocket, she returned her attention to the task at hand.

Being perched at the top of the building across from where her target was made it easy to scope the ground below for anyone trying to get in the way of her plan.

The Curse User Group Q was nowhere to be seen, unless they finally ditched their ridiculous costumes.  This was a relief, as they posed more of a threat than the other group Yaga had warned her about in his debriefing.  A religious cult of some sort that worshiped Tengen as their god.  (y/n) assumed even if she did cross paths with them, it wouldn’t have even been a fight.  They were non-curse users after all, so what threat could they have possibly posed?

Standing, she double checked that her blades were sheathed properly on both hips, and once certain they were secure, did a quick round of stretches.  Using her cursed technique to teleport into the building across the street wasn’t a simple feat, and she was still new to the method.  But this was bound to be the most difficult task in her mission, so her confidence in completing it didn’t waver for a second.

After her muscles are loose and relaxed, ready for the travel ahead, she steps up to the ledge of the building, and closes her eyes.

Breathe in,

Breathe out.

She tunes out any background noise in the city below, cars honking, loud laughter or chatter that bounced off the surrounding buildings and echoed towards her.  The first task was clearing her mind of any distractions, no matter how minor.  Even a chirping bird passing by could throw her off and be a danger.

Alright, Riko Amanai, where are you?

Clasping her hands together, folding her fingers delicately between one another, she brings her index fingers to her forehead, trying to better conduct her cursed energy, she keeps her mind clear of all but one thing.

Find the Star Plasma Vessel.

It takes a moment, as she does her best to ignore the gentle wind whispering against her ear, and focuses every ounce of her energy on her technique.

She was far from mastering Hexing Eye, but there wasn’t a chance of her getting into the building to retrieve the girl without breaking in, and her technique was the quickest way in without causing a scene.

Her eyelashes twitch.  She pinches her eyes shut tighter.

Breathe in,

Breathe out.

Find the  Star Plasma Vessel.

___

Meanwhile, a pair of Special Grade sorcerers are strolling casually towards the location Yaga had given them.

“Why didn’t he send (y/n) with us?” The white haired boy grumbles.  “Would have been more fun than partnering with your rude ass.  Again” 

His partner chuckles, and shakes his head, not taking the insult to heart.  He knew Satoru was just being whiny as usual.

“Maybe he sent her off to something else,” Suguru suggests, tucking his hands into his pockets.  “She wasn’t back at the school”

Gojo’s brow furrows, puzzled at where she could be if she wasn’t at Jujutsu Tech.  It wasn’t like her to be sent on a mission without saying anything about it to them, but he doesn’t voice his concern to his friend, not in the mood to be teased for thinking too much about it.

“Don’t worry about it.  She can handle herself” Suguru says, as though reading his mind.

“Not worried” Satoru grumbles under his breath.

Yeah, right, Suguru thinks, but doesn’t tease him for it.  Now wasn’t the time to distract him with silly remarks on his silly crush.

He would find the time to bring it up later, once the assignment was complete.

“Suguru,” Gojo speaks up again, his tone heavier than before.  “We should talk about this kid” 

Curiously, his friend raises a brow.

“What about this kid?” 

“They’re just a kid,” Satoru says.  His sunglasses cover his eyes, but Suguru can tell that he’s gazing off somewhere else, deep in his thoughts.  “If they don’t want to be Tengen’s next vessel…” 

“Are you suggesting we harbor them?” Suguru asks, amused at the idea.  More so amused that such an idea came from Satoru.  “The elders will have us killed for treason, you know” 

Despite the grave consequence on his mind, Suguru shrugs a casual shoulder, still pondering the idea over.

“We’re stronger,” Satoru replies, finally turning to look at his best friend.

Suguru doesn’t say anything, but the smile on his lips tells Satoru that they had a deal.

“Whatever the kid wants” The white haired sorcerer says decidedly.

The pair were suddenly jolted from their separate thoughts, the sound of an explosion jarring them both and taking all of their attention.  To their dismay, they turned to see smoke seeping out of the window of the building their target was supposedly residing.

They cursed, and in a blink had jumped into action.

____

The roar of the explosion instantly removed (y/n’s) focus on her cursed technique, and her wide eyes watched as smoke plumes poured into the air from the window she was just about to teleport through.

Oh no.

In a moment of pure adrenaline, she unsheathed one of her blades, and leapt from the building she was stationed at.  Luckily any civilians who would have gawked at a young girl falling from such a height were too busy screaming and pointing at the apartment that had just erupted into flames.

The thrill of the fall lasted until she was about halfway to the ground.  Gripping her blade in a tighter fist, she shoves it deep into the foundation of the building beside her, slowing her descent to a safer speed.

Her feet hit the ground soon enough, and she’s ripping her sword from the cement and breaking into a sprint across the street.  If anyone shows any shock at seeing a woman with a weapon on hand racing towards the commotion, she doesn’t notice.  Her only thoughts are on completing the mission.

“I don’t want to add any more pressure on your shoulders than you’re already carrying,” Yaga had said, before leaning forward over his desk.  “But this mission is dire.  I am only sending you as backup because of it’s importance” 

“I understand” (y/n) bows her head before her teacher.

“I want this to be a milestone for you.  A learning curve, I suppose,” He continues.  “Gojo and Geto will be there, they’ve been tasked with the same assignment, but I have not told them that you will also be after the same goal,” 

(y/n) lifts her head, brows furrowed in question.  Her teacher answers before she could ask.

“I want you to work on developing your technique,” He explains.  “And I want you to accomplish this out in the field.  While you’ve made great strides in your training, there remains a great amount of untapped potential inside of you.  I think this mission could be just the push you need to unlock the full extent of your abilities” 

Her heart races in her chest at the thoughtfulness of her teacher.  She admired Yaga greatly, so hearing such confidence he had in her made her own confidence strengthen.

“I’ll do my best, Yaga” She nods curtly.  

“Now, I should warn you, there will be others searching for the girl,” Yaga folded his hands on his desktop as he continued with his debriefing of the assignment.  “The Curse User Group Q are bound to make an appearance.  For decades they’ve been trying to end Tengen’s cycle so he loses all sense of humanity as time goes on.  The Star Religious Group may also pose a threat, but I would worry more about outside factors” 

“Outside factors?” (y/n) repeats curiously.

“There are many enemies to our way of life,” Yaga speaks in a gravely low tone.  “Even those who live in it” 

Other members of the Jujutsu Society? (y/n’s) throat feels dry at the thought, but just as quickly, her heart begins to pound excitedly at the notion of taking on such an important assignment.

“I understand,” She states.  “What else do I need to know?”

Before she can break down the door of the building, her heels skid to a stop.  Suddenly, there was a large shadow cast over her, darkening a suspiciously large portion of the ground.  She notices that the civilians around her don’t react to the shadow before she even looks into the sky, seeing a familiar sorcerer floating through the air on his shikigami.

And there was a girl in his arms.

“Tch!” (y/n) scoffs, her brows furrowing in annoyance as she sheaths her sword.  Of course Suguru got to her first.

Despite her frustration, she follows after the shadow with quick feet, zigzagging through the crowd of people who had gathered to gawk at the explosion.

Yaga had put his faith in her for this assignment.

Her thoughts are bitter as she takes off in a faster sprint to keep up with the fast-flying shikigami a few hundred feet above her.

And she hadn’t even put her cursed technique to the test.  

Her eyes darted up into the sky, hoping to gauge if the Star Plasma Vessel had been hurt in the damage.

All she’d really done was some simple recon.  This was going to be an embarrassment to her record.

Geto and the girl were too high for her to gauge her well-being, but (y/n) assumed she must still be alive if he was flying away at such a speed.  He must be taking her to a safe location.  She feels some relief at least that the mission wasn’t a total failure.

Out of the corner of her eye, she catches sight of something else suspended in the air, just outside of the smoking window.

Fuck.

No matter how fast she ran, she wasn’t going to outrun the man that could literally teleport himself down to her as soon as he saw her racing in the opposite direction of every other person around her.

“(y/n)!”

He was before her in a flash, and she nearly tripped to the ground from his sudden appearance.

“Don’t do that!” She barked.  “I could have run straight into you!” 

She was more annoyed with his ability to easily teleport himself wherever he so pleased.  Showing off was always his style, but today it got under her skin more than ever.

Gojo just laughs at her.

“Well then I could have caught you in my arms and we could have run away together!” He declares. 

(y/n) rolls her eyes.

“You’re slowing me down” She spits back at him, before pushing past him and pushing her legs to go even faster to make up for the lost distance between her and Geto’s shikigami.

To her surprise, Gojo doesn’t teleport away.  He runs after her, catching up in just a few strides.

“What’re you doing here anyway?” He hollers as he reaches her.

(y/n) doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t even look at him.  Unlike him, she was focused on this assignment, and didn’t care to explain herself.

He doesn’t push her to answer him, knowing that they were both working towards the same cause.  But his mind does become occupied with trying to figure out why she was here.  

Had Yaga sent her? 

Had she overheard the assignment and come to scope it out for herself?

Was she paid by an outside party? 

He shoots a quick glance in her direction.  She had her swords with her, but she was in street clothing, which confused Satoru the most of all.  (y/n) always wore her uniform when on an assignment, and it wasn’t like her to break the rules.

Besides, she was in jeans and a tightly-fitted black tee shirt.  It couldn’t have been any more comfortable to complete the task in such attire.

It truly was a mystery to him.

“You know if you asked me nicely, I’d teleport us up there,” He says, finally earning a glance his way from her.  “But only if you ask nicely” 

“I’m not owing you any favors!” (y/n) bites back.  “Not after last time!” 

She stops suddenly in her tracks, her mind mapping out the city before her faster than Satoru could figure out why she stopped.  In a mere seven seconds, she was turning the other direction and taking off at full speed.

“Where the hell are you going!?” The white haired sorcerer called, not bothering to follow her this time.  Not if she was going to run off in the wrong way.

“Shortcut!” (y/n) called, throwing a grin his way over her shoulder, before she faced forward again and pumped her legs faster.  

She didn’t need to be distracted by Gojo Satoru and his perfected abilities for a second longer.  The jealousy coursing through her was enough to kick her adrenaline up a notch.

Running throughout the streets of Tokyo was going to be just the workout she needed today. ___

It had been days since getting the Plasma Star Vessel to safety, and Gojo hadn’t seen or heard from (y/n) since.  The bounty on her head had finally lifted, but this girl still proved to be a real pain in the ass, so it would have been nice to have an extra set of eyes so Gojo could take a damn break already.

Shoko had texted him (y/n) had only briefly gone back to the school, just yesterday, but she was certain that she hadn’t spent even a moment’s rest there.  The thought troubled him.  If she wasn’t here protecting Riko, and she wasn’t at the school, where had she spent the last few days?

He didn’t realize that agreeing to this mission meant signing up to play babysitter.

While Riko demanded to be taken to her school one last time, Satoru pulled his phone out, and took a step back to try to discreetly send a text.

Geto notices.

[satoru]: shoko’s worried.  if you don’t tell her what you’re up to soon, she’s going to come for my neck and then yours.

It wasn’t a total lie.  Shoko had left a threatening message in his voicemail about making (y/n) a priority in the midst of this assignment.  She made quite a few remarks about how if she wasn’t returned to the safety of the school tonight, she’d come for all three of them- Gojo, Geto, and (y/n)- herself.

Shoko Ieiri may not have the Limitless technique, but she was a force to be reckoned with.  Especially when it came to her best friend.

Satoru hopes that (y/n) would respond right away, but she doesn’t.  He can’t spend too much time on his phone, so with a sigh he tucks it back into his pocket and turns back to Riko and Suguru.

His friend gives him a knowing look.

“What?” Satoru hisses back at him.

“Nothing,” Suguru replies, but the tone of his voice implies that he’s going to tell him his thoughts anyways.  “It’s just interesting how you can’t go five minutes without wondering where she is and what she’s doing” 

Riko’s eyes darted back and forth between the odd pair, curious as to what they were talking about.

“That’s not true!” Satoru snaps back.  “Shoko keeps spammin’ me.  It’s distracting”

“That so?” Suguru replies calmly.  “You’ve been like this all day.  She’s fine.  She probably went back to the school” 

“Why hasn’t she been there to begin with?” He questions.  “Why didn’t she just come with us if she was on the same assignment?” Satoru adds.  “And why would Yaga send her and not tell us?” His curiosity was getting the better of him.  

Or maybe it was his unease.

Geto shrugs his shoulders, his relaxed expression not wavering.

It wasn’t that he wasn’t worried about her, he could admit he, too, had some wonderings about her involvement in collecting Riko.  Particularly why it was kept hidden, and she’s been MIA ever since she crossed paths with Satoru a few days ago.  However, he had faith in her abilities as a sorcerer to fend for herself.  Whatever she was up to, he knew it was for good reason.  She had a knack for sniffing out suspicious leads.  (y/n) may not be a Special Grade like him and Satoru, but she had proven time and time again that she deserved her placement at Grade One with her sheer intelligence and willpower alone.

It was only a matter of time before she mastered her Cursed Technique and took her place beside them at Special Grade.  Geto believed in this completely.

“Whatever the reason, it doesn’t concern us now,” Suguru spoke kindly, but the look on his face told Satoru that he was trying to move on from the conversation.  “Right now, we should just focus on Miss Riko and-” 

“You have a girlfriend?” The child asked, hands on her hips as she sized Gojo up, not believing it.

Suguru burst into laughter, throwing his head back and openly laughing at the idea of (y/n) being anywhere close to Satoru’s girlfriend.

The Six Eyes user scowls at his so-called friend.

“She’s not my girlfriend” He says dryly.

“Oh.  Makes more sense” Riko said, grinning at her own little quip.

“Brat” Satoru scoffs.

While Suguru is busy laughing, Satoru pulls his phone out again.  To his surprise, (y/n) had actually sent him a response.

[(y/n)]: been busy. 

Ouch.  When was she going to learn that sending a period at the end of a text instantly makes it bitter? Gojo frowns.  She probably did it on purpose.

Another text popped up while he still had the chat open.

[(y/n)]: i’ll catch up with you later.

Later? It already was later, it had been three days for crying out loud! Gojo scowled at the dry response that didn’t provide him any relief, or lead on what she was up to.

She must have still been annoyed with him from the last time they’d spoke.

They didn’t always have the friendliest of relationships.  Most of the time that Satoru spent around (y/n) was unwanted, and she made that clear by shooting down his stupid jokes and meaningless flirtations.  But at the root of their strange friendship, they were partners first, including Suguru and Shoko.  The four of them had an unbreakable bond that no matter how annoying Satoru got, she still always had his back.  And no matter how cruel (y/n) could be in trying to get him to leave her alone, he would do the same for her.

There were brief instances where the pair wasn’t a completely dysfunctional friendship.  If he could be quiet long enough to watch a movie, or after a particularly draining mission, they could last maybe four hours without Satoru trying to mess with her, and (y/n) trying to start an argument.

It was rare that (y/n) was the one to annoy him, though.  Usually he was amused by her abrasive reactions to his relentless picking.  But for some reason, he felt annoyed with her now.

It just wasn’t like her to disappear for multiple days.  He didn’t like not knowing where she was.  Not knowing if she was safe. ___

On the day of the assignment, (y/n) had been taking a shortcut to catch up with Geto faster.  She wasn’t lying when she told Satoru that.

But she never made it to her destination, getting sidetracked by another player in the game to catch the Star Plasma Vessel.

He wasn’t in any special attire giving him away, so she knew he wasn’t here on behalf of Q.  But the blade strapped to his broad back was enough to tell her that he was involved, somehow.

And he likely wasn’t an ally.

He was probably twenty feet away from her, on his phone, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk while he spoke bitterly to whoever was on the other end of the line.  Even if he wasn’t carrying a weapon, he still would have stood out with a tee shirt that tight clinging onto every muscle in his back and arms.

Curiously, (y/n) crept a little closer, hoping she was hidden enough in the crows of people between them that she could close and overhear his conversation.

“I told you,” His tone had a bite to it as he growled into the receiving end of the phone.  “It’s Fushiguro now.  Call me Zen’in again and I’ll forget the child and come for you first” 

(y/n) froze in place.

From those few words she could make out, she knew exactly who that was.

Every bone in her body told her to turn around, and run.  An instinct, deep in her blood, crept up her spine in a chill.

That was Sorcerer Killer Toji Zen’in.

Or apparently, Toji Fushiguro.

She’d never seen him before, only heard of him when teachers or upperclassmen would share hushed rumors about the deranged man.  And even what she’d heard of him wasn’t much, but it was enough for her to know that if her suspicions were correct, she was in the very wrong place, at the very wrong time.

But, a voice at the back of her mind chirps.  But maybe there was an opportunity here.

If her classmates were here, they’d call her foolish, and tell her to turn the hell around and walk the hell away.  But they weren’t here.  She was alone, and this was her decision to make, alone.

(y/n) was no coward.  She was never one to shy away from a fight, even when she was outnumbered.  She would put everything she had into fighting for the things she believed in.

And she certainly believed in taking a man like this down.

So with quiet steps, she drew nearer to the assassin, listening in to what else he had to say to the stranger on the other end of the call.

“You think that I could give a shit about those rugrats?” He snarls.  “What happens to them is none of my concern.  They’ll get a check in a few days when this bullshit assignment is up.  And then I’m taking the rest to the track” 

Who was he talking about? 

It’s quiet as he listens to whatever is being said through the receiver, leaving (y/n) to try to quickly decode half of a conversation that she had only barely heard.

The man scowls down at the ground, his hand tightening around his cellphone.  (y/n) wonders briefly if it was going to shatter from the death grip he had on it.

And then he says something that has her turning and walking away, like she should have done in the first place.  Her heart pounds in her ears and her stomach drops harder than it had when she’d leapt off a building just fifteen minutes ago.

“They’re not that young.  The girl is old enough now to take care of the boy.  Don’t ever question me again on my parenting abilities” 

As she makes haste in her steps, she’s certain of two things.

One, whether it was wise or not, she was going to be involved, and follow this odd lead that piqued her intrigue. And two, if she was going to follow this man, she was going to have to keep very, very quiet about it. ___

a/n: well that's the first part !! i hope this catches some of y'alls interest, i'm really excited about this series :) angst to come!

xoxo - jordie

[sweettrash]

Second part of comic!

I can now talk about what this is all about too!! This is just some silly headcanon idea I had about post game events. I'd like to think Narinder and The Lamb have gotten pretty close to the point where they run the cult side by side (platonically? romantically?) They've decided to expand territory, which means fighting new gods. Their secret weapon? A sacrificial technique that involves Narinder giving his devotion to strengthen The Lamb.

Next couple of panels will be painted :) Narinder's outfit is by @lilpuffyart . Check them out!!

[stackslip]

CAN YOU ELABORATE ON TLT BEING A HOMESTUCK FANFIC‽‽‽‽‽

i'm exaggerating a bit, but taz muir was a well known homestuck writer who wrote under the username urbanAnchorite. her fic the serendipity gospels is one of my fave fics ever, but was never finished and it's only by book 2 of tlt that i figured that the clear allusions to it in book 1 weren't just cute little nods but that she'd expanded on some of the ideas/concepts and worldbuilding of the serendipity gospels. to name a few:

the ninth house cult is heavily based on the juggalo church muir wrote/expanded upon in TSG, from face paint to the rituals and a lot of the accompanying prose

act 2 of TSG takes place mainly in a spaceship that serves as "cathedral" of the juggalo cult, and is described to be covered in bones that have been painted in many colors--which is close to the description of the mithraeum

act 2 also features the two main characters being much younger people mentored/manipulated into horrible acts by an old man who is thousands of years old and bickering with his other thousand year old friends/enemies, who seem to share knowledge and understanding that neither the two protagonists do but also deeply resent one another. hard to not read a parallel to john and the lyctors here!

to elaborate on this bc i just realized it: it is heavily implied in TSG that the dancestors (older people thousands of years old) went through a universe reset and built the empire in the image of their own trauma and anger, which would v much parallel what happens to john on earth and how he "reset" humanity

less of a homestuck thing and more of a taz muir thing: said old man is v much grooming the main female character and making her life miserable during the entirety of act 2

a lot of the story takes place in the background of the trolls' empire being a horrific imperialist force that the main characters were originally very excited to join and become a part of, with one of these characters in particular daydreaming about becoming ground troop for invasion while also holding a terrible secret that would have precluded him of doing so anyway. p neat parallel to gideon's own thing here

act 1 and act 2 of TSG are from two different pov characters, with a drastic shift in prose style and understanding of the situation/world when the pov shifts. which v much echoes how tlt has worked so far. part 3 was barely started before it went on hiatus, but it followed the same pattern.

speaking of, the prose of act 2 of TSG definitely feels very close to harrow the ninth's prose. you can just open the fic and check the first chapter of act 2 and how it's written, and you'll see what i mean. there are differences--the prose of TSG act 2 is more inflected with southern usamerican evangelical speak, i think? i'm not american so i can't quite 200% tell

there is an external armed resistance to the empire's violent imperialism and resistance that was supposed to be the focus in act 3 of TSG, which never happened. nona the ninth did, though, and it follows that structure.

there are also eldritch horrors that threaten the entire universe--homestuck's own horrorterrors--that are in the background of TSG and implied to be an important part of the future plot that we never saw. tlt has the ressurrection beasts

taz muir's worldbuilding around the blood castes in og homestuck that she elaborates on in TSG also somewhat parallels the way the houses function in tlt

iirc there's also worldbuilding around space travel in tlt (such as the obelisks? i think that's the name? and the use of necromancy to power them) that parallels taz muir's own take on how space travel works in the troll empire, using psionics and draining them dry in a similar way

i think the necro-cav relationship 'ideal' is based around how taz also interpreted moirallegiance in not just TSG but all her homestuck fics, down to how its legal implementation and the idealization of it vs its role in troll/houses imperialism and the reality of blurred lines in "expected" relationships. i'd love to hear taz's discourse on troll romance

i also think the necro-cav relationship parallels the other legal pairing explored in TSG--legislacerator and subjugglator.

there are probably more parallels i am missing--i need to reread TSG soon, as i haven't in a while. there are elements i'd say are more like, how taz herself elaborated on the bones of the worldbuilding of homestuck and then made it her own thing, which is rad as hell. other elements are more fun nods, such as gideon's aviator glasses being shamelessly stolen from dave homestuck, and a lot of gtn's prose feeling very homestuckey. it's def not like, just a little rewrite and boom, you get the locked tomb! imo it's more elements of plot and worldbuilding that were interesting enough to develop into something of its own and that taz made into something new, along with other elements of other stories (such as lolita and umineko) being woven into it. part of why i enjoy tlt so much is its "collage" aspect, taking elements taz thought interesting in other stories, or using these elements to purposefully evoke specific feelings/moods to construct or obsfucate certain ideas.

[luxaofhesperides]

greener on the other side

Danny makes a habit out of hopping into portals and exploring he places he ends up. It just so happens that this time, he ends up in Gotham right as the Signal begins his patrol. Duke meets the strangest, funniest, cutest guy on the roof of the Gotham City Public Library. He knows Batman would not approve of literally anything he's doing, but sue him, he wants a meta friend and this guy seems to up for it. -- OR: how Duke and Danny got together despite having secret identities and living different dimensions.

chapter one: how it starts - 8.2k

also available on ao3! . . .

Sam would like Gotham is the first thing Danny thinks when he arrives. 

The city is dark and gloomy, the sky overcast and the chill of the wind indicates an oncoming storm. Dark buildings rise out of the ground, all dramatic shapes and ledges and honest-to-God gargoyles. Everything about Gotham is right up Sam’s alley, minus all the crime which Danny can hear from his perch on Gotham City Public Library. 

He never knows where his portals will spit him out, but all things considered, this is one of the nicer places he’s ended up. 

At least he didn’t walk out into the middle of an alley full of gun wielding gang members. Or into another cult hideout. Those are always unpleasant. 

Danny squints up at the sky, wondering what time it is. Usually, he can get a good idea based on the position of the sun, but with all the clouds, he can’t tell. It can’t be night yet; it’s not that dark out and the streets are a rush of activity that only comes about during the day. But it doesn’t seem like the afternoon, either. For a city this big, it would be a lot busier.

Maybe he dropped in during the morning rush? 

And if he did, that means he has an entire day to wander Gotham and scope out places that Sam and Tucker would like. 

im gonna be out all day, he texts to their group chat. It was barely noon when he left, sticking around long enough to eat and double check that his parents were going to be out all day for some biology conference. How they keep getting invited despite their own field of research, he’ll never know, but if it gets them out of the house, he’s certainly not going to complain.

Good or bad? Sam replies immediately.

Danny casts a look around again; dark and dreary city, a drug deal going down directly below him behind the library, distant yells and the occasional gunshot far off in the distance, barely audible unless he strains his hearing. 

good, he texts, gonna check out the rest of this place then bring u both to visit later.

Send pics!

He sends a thumbs up and a smiley face, then pockets his phone and stands up. Tucker’s probably still asleep, having knocked out at some ungodly hour of the night, so there’s no point in waiting for him to respond. He’ll just save all his thoughts about Gotham to share in person.

The library is located solidly in a busy part of the city. Danny could go anywhere from there, but without any knowledge of where anything is, he’s stuck, debating on where to go first and if he should risk outing himself as a tourist by asking random people on the streets questions. He leans forward, looking around the street below him to see what it holds; a few office buildings, two restaurants, three coffee shops and a bakery, and what looks like an occult store. 

Definitely one he’s going to avoid. 

There’s probably nothing in it that’s real, but on the off chance something does react to him…

Better not to try his luck and hope there are no ghost hunters in this dimension. After all, there’s no guarantee that his dimension is the only one with the Guys In White. There could always be another version of them waiting for him on the other side of his portals across the Infinite Realms. 

Just as Danny starts singing eenie-meenie-minie-moe under his breath, trying to choose which street to follow, he hears the soft thud of someone landing on the roof. 

The roof Danny is currently on, that regular people shouldn’t be able to access. 

He whips around immediately, tense and ready for a fight. He’ll have to hold back while he’s in human form, but not as much as he did in Amity Park. Perks of not existing in this dimension: if Danny wants to disappear completely, he can. 

“Hey, you good?” calls the… person? Whoever it is wears yellow armor. Not medieval or ancient armor, but something that resembles what he’d expect to see in a sci-fi action movie. Or maybe Power Rangers. There’s a bat figure spanning across their chest, like an emblem, which probably identifies whoever this is, but Danny is lacks any and all context and knowledge to know who, exactly, is joining him on the roof of the library.

“Yeah?” he responds hesitantly. “I’m good. Why are you asking?”

The yellow armored person walks closer, steps careful and measured. “I saw you all the way up here and got worried. This isn’t a place people usually hang out, you know?”

What? Did he—

Oh. 

The pieces click into place and Danny shakes his head.

“I’m good! Really! Sorry about worrying you, I wasn’t about to jump or anything. I just like being up high.”

“Alright, cool. Good to know.”

“So… who are you?” 

They start, look down at themselves, then look back at Danny. “You don’t know me? Sorry, you wouldn’t ask if you did. I’m the Signal.”

“The Signal? That’s… kinda a weird name. No offense or anything!”

Signal laughs. “Nah, I get it. Comes with the territory though, you know? Though people are pretty used to it these days.”

Danny very much did not know, but wisely chooses not to admit it. “So what’s with the get up?”

“It… keeps me safe? I’m not going to be patrolling in my pajamas, as much as I would like to. Safety first, and all.”

Patrol? Danny looks closer at the Signal, taking in the armor, the bat emblem, the helmet and how his eyes are covered. He’s hiding his identity, not just dressing up for fun. He probably should have figured that out sooner.

“You’re a hero!” Danny says, pointing at him. 

“Yeah, I am,” Signal confirms, bemused smile on his face. “Are you not from around here? I get that I’m not very well known outside of Gotham, but most people are able to clock me as a hero pretty quickly.”

Danny laughs nervously. “Haha, yeah, something like that. Don’t really have heroes back home. So do you have powers or something?”

On the outside, he’s keeping cool. He’s being so chill and normal. 

On the inside? Danny is close to freaking out. A hero! An actual hero! Who came to check up on him because he’s probably saved other people who have tried jumping! Danny is meeting his first legitimate hero who saves people; there are no heroes in Amity Park, and Danny himself barely counts, because the focus there is to fight ghosts more than it is to save people. 

But the Signal is here to help people. As a hero.

That’s so fucking cool. Danny needs a selfie with him immediately to have proof to show once he tells Sam and Tucker about this.

“Oh, this and that,” Signal answers, “I can’t really give out the details for my own safety. Sorry about that.”

“That’s fine dude, I should have thought of that before I asked.”

“I will say that I can see more things than the average person. Comes with being a meta, I guess.”

There’s a word Danny doesn’t know. Asking would probably raise some red flags about him and Danny does not want to ruin his first official meeting with an official hero by asking strange questions. The casualness with which Signal had said meta points to it being common knowledge in this dimension. 

Danny can figure it out with context clues. Probably.

“Oh, cool.”

“Yeah, so can I ask you something?”

He tenses without meaning to. He’s ready to run. Questions are never anything good, not in his experiences, and if he goes now, he can probably avoid Signal for the next few hours while he explores. 

“Sure,” he says, against his better judgment.

“Are you a meta? Because you’ve got this sort of… glow. It’s really bright actually, which is how I found you.”

Danny looks down at himself to check that he isn’t partially ghostly. He is just as human as he was at the start of the conversation. No unusual glowing happening at all. 

“A glow?” he repeats.

Signal nods, looking him over. “Yeah. And it kinda looks like there’s two of you. Like someone took a negative of you and overlaid it on your body. Your hair is white and your eyes keep changing between green and blue. So: meta?”

He can’t answer. His throat is closing up. Panic is beginning to build. 

Danny has gone so long without people discovering his identity as Phantom and Signal can just see it?! 

“Woah, hey, calm down man. I’m not gonna out you or anything,” Signal tries to reassure. “I just wanna make sure you’re alright. Are you running from someone?”

No. Not as long as his parents never find out about him. He forces a shaky smile on his face, taking a step back. “Nah, I’m fine. And, sorry, but I can’t tell you why you’re seeing that. You understand how important secrets are.”

“I do. Okay, one last question: what are you doing in Gotham?”

“Honestly? Sightseeing. I’m looking for good places to bring my friends to when they come visit.”

“I can help with that.”

“Don’t you need to fight crime or something?”

Signal shrugs. “I can multitask.” 

The casual answer startles a laugh out of Danny, and he relaxes. Despite all the questions, despite all the ways things can go wrong by associating with a hero that can see Phantom in him, he can’t help but trust the Signal. He’s been chill so far and isn’t pushing for answers. And Danny could use a guide to show him around Gotham.

“Yeah, alright,” Danny decides, “Lead the way, Signal.” . . .

They cross a good portion of Gotham by grapple. Meaning the Signal is carrying Danny as they swing between buildings, occasionally stopping for the Signal to either help someone on the street or point out a place Danny can take his friends to. 

It’s fun the first few times, then Danny starts getting uncomfortable with how each movement jostles him. Feeling the wind rushing past him while relying entirely on someone else to move is beyond strange and he finds that he doesn't like the feeling much.

I don’t exist here, he thinks to himself, I can just leave before I deal with any serious consequences. 

This is reckless, but Danny wants to be reckless. He wants to go all out and have fun traversing Gotham with the Signal. This isn’t his dimension and he’s spent his entire life since dying trying to stay safe despite everything going wrong, so he can be a little reckless. As a treat.

“Not that this isn’t fun or anything,” Danny says the next time they land on a roof, “But is it cool if I just fly?”

Signal stops from where he had been pointing out a new cat cafe that opened. “You can fly?”

Danny grins and floats up, just a few inches. The rush of weightlessness almost feels like fear, but he refuses to acknowledge it as such and shoves it deep into his chest where he’ll never have to deal with it again. 

“You can fly,” Signal says blankly. “Sure. Why not. People are going to notice and go looking for you, so…”

Danny goes invisible, then pops back into the visible spectrum after a few seconds. “I got it covered. Just lead the way, I’ll be right behind you.”

“This might as well just happen,” Signal mutters, then shakes his head. “Alright. Let’s head to Wayne Tower. If your friends are into STEM, that’s the place to go. They give free tours for the public too.”

Which sounds like the perfect place for Tucker. Danny makes a mental note to visit Wayne Tower first so Tucker can geek out to his heart’s content. 

The Signal jumps off the building, grapple shooting through the air. Danny lets invisibility wash over him then follows after, taking in the sight of the city below him. 

To think the Signal takes care of all of this… Gotham is way larger than Amity Park, and that invites a lot more problems. Ghosts are one thing, but human criminals are another entirely. The Signal’s got to be strong to be a hero in this city.

He’s going to comment on it when someone below them screams, “Signal!”

Immediately, they both change course and drop to the street, where a woman is pulled into a bus by her hair. Other passengers are looking out the windows, terrified and holding themselves carefully still as a group of people with extreme facepaint and guns take control of the bus.

“You ain’t getting us today, Signal!” one of them jeers, and the doors close just as the bus tears off down the street, knocking off side mirrors of parked cars and wearing between traffic dangerously. 

“Shit,” Signal hisses, and aims his grapple gun high. 

He might be a hero with powers, but it’ll be impossible to catch up with a speeding bus with just a grapple. Danny isn’t a hero here, he’s a tourist who should know better than to butt into other people’s business, but seeing people in need of help, people in danger, there really isn’t any other choice he could make.

“Come on,” he says, “I’ll give you a lift.” And he picks up the Signal before he can respond, covering him with invisibility as well to get a drop on the criminals, then takes off. He pushes himself, keeping a tight grip on the Signal’s armor so he doesn’t fall, and closes the distance between them and the bus in no time. 

“You good if I drop out on top of the bus?” he shouts over the wind in his ears and the frantic honking of cars on the road, dodging the bus. 

“Yeah, I can take it from here!”

Danny bites his tongue to keep from protesting. The Signal is clearly intending to stop the bus and save the passengers on his own, and he probably won’t appreciate Danny getting involved. Which is exactly why Danny isn’t asking for permission and is just going to jump into the fray while the Signal is distracted. 

He puts on a final burst of speed and throws the Signal at the bus. He stays in the air just long enough to make sure the Signal lands safely, startling every person in the bus. Two criminals shove open their windows and lean their upper bodies out of the bus, aiming their guns at where the Signal is trying to get onto the side of the bus to force his way in.

Without thinking, Danny moves, yanking the guns out of their hands, then grabbing the backs of their shirts to lift them fully out of the window. He ignores their startled yells and the gasps of the hostages as they watch two of their captors dangle in midair, seemingly held by nothing. He takes a moment to look around, then spots a pile of trash bags that will cushion their fall. 

Then he throws them at it and tosses the guns onto the roof of the building where the Signal can pick them up later. 

Two threats taken care of, Danny flies back to the bus, which is moving even more erratically down the road as the Signal tries to take control of it without getting any of the hostages hurt. 

“Get flashbanged!” Danny hears right before a large flash of light blinds him for a moment. 

Another face painted criminal goes falling out of the bus, rolling onto the street, rubbing their eyes. The bus door remains open; broken, based on how it moves wildly back and forth as the bus continues its chaotic journey down the road. 

The Signal is struggling. He’s holding off well on his own, but he’s one person trying to save a bus full of people. Danny phases in through the back of the bus, landing silently. He sees the Signal lift a hand and has just enough time to turn his face away before there’s another blinding flash of light. 

It distracts the first criminal in front of him, who’s hanging back from the fight. This one has a machete instead of a gun, which is good because a gun would have been way more dangerous in such close quarters. 

Danny knocks them out with a solid punch to the head, then kicks the machete under a seat. 

He makes his way up the bus, quickly taking out anyone in face paint, then grabs the gun of the last one and freezes it into a block of ice. The Signal doesn’t waste any time in shoving the unconscious body of the driver out of the seat and taking control, carefully pulling the bus over to the side of the road, flicking on the hazard lights, then puts on the brakes and cuts the engine. 

“Everyone alright?” he asks, standing to look over the passengers. 

They’re all pale and tense, but far more composed than Danny was expecting from a group of hostages. 

“We’re fine,” a woman says, who Danny recognizes as the one who called out for the Signal. “Thank you for coming for us. I’m so glad the Bats have you active during the day.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” Signal replies. “Go on out. The GCPD will be here soon.”

The passengers begin to file off, most stopping to give the Signal a quick thanks. It’s nice to see, though it leaves a bitter taste in Danny’s mouth.

He rarely ever gets thanks as Phantom. He’s given up his teenage years to keep ghosts from harming people and people from harming ghosts, taking responsibility for the pain his parents’ portal have caused Amity Park, and all he really gets is people insulting him or seeing him as just as bad as the ghosts he fights. Never any thanks, not from the town he saves.

It sucks to see how people can be nice to heroes in this dimension, but in his own they blame him for everything. 

The bus is empty when the Signal look at him. He looks directly at Danny while he’s invisible.

That’s… not great. It’s a good thing the Signal isn’t his enemy, or Danny would be a lot worse off, having to dodge someone he can’t hide from. 

“Thanks for the help man,” Signal says, “You get hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Let’s get out of the street. Follow me.”

He walks off the bus and waves to the passengers one last time, then shoots his grapple. Danny hesitates for a moment, considers escaping, then follows the Signal up to the rooftops because he really does want to see Wayne Tower so he can bring Tucker over. 

The Signal is watching him approach when he gets to the roof. It’s unnerving, which is saying something considering the fact that his life is now a sci-fi horror story on bad days. And he’s had a lot of bad days. 

“Can you actually see me?” is the first thing he asks, unable to keep the question to himself.

“Kind of. It’s more like I can see a very blurry light moving around.”

“Huh.”

“Can you go back to being visible, though? I don’t want to be squinting at you while we talk.”

Danny looks at him. “I wouldn’t even be able to tell that you’re squinting, with the helmet and all.”

“Okay, fair, but I’d still feel better if I could see you properly.”

Well, there’s really no reason to refuse the Signal. He’s been nice so far, and he’s not even yelling at Danny for being irresponsible or reckless or anything. It’s already a decent start to the conversation. He owes the Signal this much, at least.

He lets his invisibility fade away, joining the visible spectrum once more.

The Signal looks him over, stepping closer to spin Danny around, checking him over for any injuries. Then he steps back, satisfied, and nods. “Sorry about that, I just had to double check to make sure you’re not hiding any injuries. Do you want to rest up here for a bit?”

Huh. No reprimand at all. 

“I was expecting you to yell at me for getting involved, honestly,” Danny admits.

The Signal laughs. “Oh, buddy, I absolutely do not have a leg to stand on when it comes to that. No yelling rights at all. You clearly had a plan in mind, have good control of your powers, and you never once impeded me. Everything got taken care of easily thanks to you. Besides, I’m not one to turn down help from someone who knows what they’re doing.”

Now that implies a hell of a story that Danny probably won’t ever get to hear. Which is a shame, because honestly? Danny wants to know as much as he can about the Signal. This guy is his new number one hero and Danny is ready to be his biggest fan.

“Glad I could help,” Danny says with a bashful smile. 

“Sorry you had to get caught up in all that, though. Still up for seeing Wayne Tower?”

“Are you sure you have time for this? This place is filled with crime.”

The Signal shrugs. “That’s just Gotham, man. I’ll help were I can, but I also want to play tour guide. It’s nice being able to show someone the good parts of Gotham.”

This place is a disaster, full of smog and smoke and Danny keeps hearing gunshots that he tries very hard to ignore. But it’s clear that the Signal loves his city. It’s nice to see; Danny’s been wanting to escape Amity Park for years now, even before the Accident, and though he gives as much as he can to keep it safe, he doesn’t really love it. 

His parents have made things difficult for him with their reputation, and then with their constant attempts to hunt him down for experimentation. He’s tired of being around the same people, stuck with kids he grew up with and has too much history with. Sam and Tucker are the obvious exceptions, but he knows that one day they’ll all go their separate ways to learn what life is like without ghosts and Amity bogging them down. They’ll find their way to each other again, but they all know leaving is inevitable.

They don’t talk about it much, not out loud, but the itch to run away from Amity Park and experience the rest of the world is obvious. It’s why Sam looks at international volunteering opportunities, making resumes and cover letters for environmental organizations that are cleaning up pollution, or replanting forests, or creating buildings from recycled material. It’s why Tucker takes online class after online class to get certifications in as many things as he can before applying for universities all over the country, looking into scholarships and internships and job opportunities so he can support himself when the time comes.

It’s why Danny spends more and more time hopping through natural portals and exploring the Ghost Zone and stubbornly refusing to go home at all on the weekends. 

“Well,” he says with a shrug, “I’m down if you’re down.”

The Signal grins and claps a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Good to hear. Keep up if you can!” And then he’s throwing himself off the building in such a reckless maneuver than Danny feels his half-dead heart stop before hears the Signal’s laughter and the sound of a grapple line being reeled in.

“Oh, it’s on!” Danny doesn’t waste another second and leaps into the air, his stomach dropping for just a moment before gravity looses its hold on him. Then he’s shooting through the sky after the Signal, eyes fixed on the yellow-clad hero. 

He only just manages to remember to go invisible, most of his focus on watching the Signal swing between buildings, heading towards a large building. From where they are, moving above the rooftops, Danny can see the ocean, the dark waters stretching out past the horizon. 

The Signal glances back to make sure Danny’s still following, and Danny takes the chance to put on a burst of speed so that he’s flying besides the Signal. 

“Are you sure you can keep up with me?” Danny teases, his grin sharp. Without having to worry about anyone seeing him, it’s easy to let go of some of his control and let his fangs sharpen until they’re easily visible. 

“Man, this is not a game you’re going to win,” the Signal replies. A sly smirk crosses his face, one that promises fun and trouble, and then he swings into the shadow of a church spire and disappears.

Danny stops short and blinks a few times, wondering if his eyes glitched out somehow. The Signal was literally right in front of him. Where did he go?

He squints and looks around, floating up idly to try and get a better look at everything around him. 

“Catch me if you can!” 

Danny spins, trying to pinpoint where the Signal’s voice came from. He flies up higher and strains his hearing, listening past the honking cars, the multiple conversations happening beneath him, the train in the distance going to its next stop…

He hears a click and the sound of a body moving quickly through the air. Danny follows it, flying around buildings. He closes his eyes, focusing only on what he hears, and chases after the Signal. The closer he gets, the easier it is to hear the mechanical whir of the grapple gun, his heartbeat, his footsteps against the rooftops and the sides of buildings as he keeps moving. 

It’s fun, this chase. Danny’s never experienced something like this before. There are no stakes, no dangers, no fear or panic. This is just two people dashing through a city for fun, using their abilities to blow off stress instead of fighting for their lives or the lives of others. 

The Signal is close. Danny cracks open his eyes and frowns when he still can’t see the hero. He listens closely and the Signal should be off to his right, just out of reach. 

No one is there when he looks, but who’s to say that Danny’s the only one who can go invisible? The Signal certainly didn’t share his powers, so maybe…

Danny veers to the right suddenly and reaches out to where the Signal’s heartbeat is loudest. He hears the hero yelp in surprise as Danny tackles him out of the air. It’s only his tight grip on the Signal, arms wrapped around his waist, that keep him from falling, but taking on the weight of an entire person—one who’s heavily armored, at that—leaves Danny off balance as he flies. It takes a few moments to correct it, then he’s flying up, heading towards the large building that, now that he’s close enough to see it, has WAYNE written across the side near the very top. 

He picks up speed and flies them up to the roof, circling around it once to make sure no one else is out there. With the coast clear, Danny carefully sets the Signal down and drops his invisibility.

“Got you,” he declares, a little breathless from the chase. He grins at the Signal and only remembers his clearly visible fangs after a long minute where there’s no response. “Oh, sorry. I know it’s kinda freaky.” He brings a hand up to hide his mouth, and the Signal snaps out of his daze to grab Danny’s wrist and pull his hand down.

“No, no, you’re good! Sorry, I was just caught off guard. No one’s ever caught me while I used shadows.”

“Shadows and light? You have some really cool powers.”

The Signal gives him a rueful smile. “You say that because you haven’t seen me struggle to figure out how to use them yet.”

Oh, isn’t that familiar? Danny can relate. He was a disaster after the Accident when his powers first kicked in. “Trust me, I know how hard it can be and I can guarantee that you’ll never do worse that I did.”

“Bet.”

“I can go intangible,” Danny says, leaning closer to the Signal. “I could not control when or where I went intangible for the longest time. I fell through my bed, the floor, my entire house and also once got my arm stuck inside a wall in the middle of a conversation and had to act like nothing was wrong. Man, I was sweating while we were talking. Spent the entire time trying to casually pull my arm out of the wall. Pretty sure they think I have uncontrollable muscle spasms now.”

The Signal bursts out laughing and it’s infectious. He can’t help but laugh with him, remember the disastrous first few weeks with his powers, desperately trying to play it cool and failing miserably while he and his friends panicked. It was awful, don’t get him wrong, but it’s also very funny now that he’s looking back at it.

“Oh man, I don’t think I have one as good as that. I mean, the closest thing I have to that is that I once accidentally blinded myself trying to change a lightbulb and fell off the ladder. My uncle thought it was hilarious that I lost a fight to a single lightbulb.”

“That’s the one thing no one ever tells you about having powers: how ridiculously embarrassing it is 90% of the time.”

“Cheers, bro, I’ll drink to that.”

He feels a little dizzy with how much fun he’s having, still trying to catch his breath from the chase and all the laughter that followed. Danny tilts forward, leaning his weight on the Signal who takes it easily, holding him up like this is normal. 

“Okay, okay,” the Signal says, taking a deep breath to compose himself. “Let’s get back to the tour of Gotham. Welcome to Wayne Tower. You can just go inside and sign up for a free tour, they have one every hour.”

“And the tour has a STEM focus?”

“Oh, yeah. Some of it is just the basic history of what Wayne Enterprises has done, how they’ve grown, what industries they’re involved in, that sort of thing. But they also have a visit to one of the R&D labs to show some of the new tech they’re working on. Right now I think the focus is on prosthetics and wheelchairs and walkers. And there’s also a lab for astronomy and space flight—”

“A lab for WHAT?” Danny yells, looking up so quickly he accidentally slams the top of his head into the Signal’s chin, making them both tumble away from each other, hissing in pain. “Oh, shoot, I’m so sorry. I just love space and I got too excited and I can not be normal about space—”

A hand comes up and two fingers press against his lips, cutting his embarrassed rambling short. Danny really hopes the Signal can’t see the blush growing on his cheeks as an actual, real life hero who is standing with barely two inches between their bodies, puts his fingers on Danny’s lips. 

It’s a good thing Danny’s already had his bi panic two years ago or else he’d be dying for real this time around. 

“Chill, dude,” the Signal says with an easy smile, “It’s all good. I can take a harder hit. And if you like space, well…”

“Well?”

“Pollution in Gotham is really bad, so you can’t see any stars until you leave the city, but the university’s got a pretty good planetarium. They’re recently gotten new holograms to show off 3-D projections of different galaxies.”

Forget Signal and how attractive he is, this planetary is all Danny cares about now. 

Tucker can have the Wayne Tower tour, and he’ll find something good for Sam too, but the planetarium is for Danny specifically. It was made with him in mind. He is going to be so unwell about it once he goes to visit. He might just move in and refuse to leave. 

“No way,” Danny breathes, and distantly notes how the Signal shivers when his lips moves against his gloved fingers. “Signal, dude, we need to go to the planetarium. Please. I will get on my knees and beg if that’s what it takes.”

“Woah, no need! I was going to take you there anyways, and if you come back maybe next week, I can get tickets for you. No need to go on your knees at all.”

The phrasing makes Danny pause. That was incredibly suggestive, but since Signal’s not bringing it up and moving right along, Danny will go with it and pretend he didn’t actually say that.

“Okay, okay. Maybe we can make that our last stop? If we go now, I am not going to leave for like two days. Is there like, a nice park or something to do with plants in Gotham?”

The Signal tilts his head and makes a considering noise. “There is the botanical gardens, but Poison Ivy tends to take it over when she’s not at Robinson park.”

“Poison Ivy?” Danny repeats. That’s a Rogue’s name if he’s ever heard one, but seeing as most of his Rogues are other ghosts he’s fairly friendly with these days or government agents, he’s sure that his expectations for Rogues is pretty skewed. 

“Yeah, she controls plants and used to do a lot of robberies, property destruction, and murder in order to protect the environments. She’s gotten a bit better over the last few years, but she’ll still tear down the buildings of companies who are polluting the river and shit.”

Murder aside, Danny can kind of respect it. Sometimes the best way to fight back against the government and morally corrupt companies is to burn everything down. Sam would definitely approve; he puts the botanical gardens and Robinson Park on his list of spots to visit with her.

“Can we go check it out?”

“You know what? Sure. If Ivy is around, I’m sure we can handle it.” The Signal steps away from Danny and heads to the edge of the roof. “Ready?”

Danny follows him and lets his feet lift up off the roof, hovering just over the edge. “Ready,” he answers, prepared to take off.

The Signal jumps, grapple gun reappearing in his hand from where he placed it before, and then he’s off, moving through the open air easily as if he’s the one with the ability to fly. Danny chases after him, going invisible again as they weave between the buildings, heading away from the absurdly tall buildings that make up what must be the busier downtown area of Gotham. They go over the train tracks and the Signal grapples onto a water tank just to jump off of it again, gaining way more air than a normal person would be capable of. 

It’s beyond fun, flying through the city with the Signal. The clouds block out most of the sky, but every so often a weak stream of sunlight breaks through and illuminates a few sections of the city. It’s nothing at all like Amity Park, far darker and ornate and dangerous, but he can’t help but be fascinated by it, wanting to spend more and more time exploring Gotham. 

The Signal stops his journey a few times to drop down onto the street to stop carjackers and muggers, leaving them bound and awaiting police pick up. The victims, the few who stick around, always thank him and see him off with a wave.

Jealousy is an ugly feeling and Danny’s feeling a little too much of it, watching how the Signal interacts with the citizens of the city he protects. It’s no surprise that Danny’s completely burned out on heroing these days, preferring to use his powers for mundane tasks or just for fun. He was certainly never as good a hero as the Signal is. 

But then the Signal grapples back up into the sky and gives Danny a smile and all his ire fades away. 

It’s better this way; Danny’s been ready to retire from the hero business for a year and a half now, and the Signal deserves all the love he’s shown and more. 

They cross what feels like half of Gotham before the Signal comes to a stop across the street from a building with a large glass dome on the top.

“Here it is,” he announces, “The botanical garden. The inside is where you can pay for entering, and then it goes straight to a display of local plants and insects, with an indoor garden, and then the outside is where the actual gardens are. There’s also a greenhouse in there but it belongs solely to Ivy now. She’s got an agreement with the owner of the garden to keep the place safe so long as she can use the greenhouse as she pleased.”

Danny pulls out his phone to snap a picture and texts it to Sam.

She replies with a string of exclamation marks.

We’ll visit it together next week! he sends, and Sam sends back a thumbs up and a green and black heart. 

“Okay, this is absolutely a place I’m visiting with my friends,” Danny says, sending Jazz a ghost emoji when her check-in let me know you’re okay text comes in, right on the hour. 

“We got places for your friends, so it’s time to show you the planetarium, right? You need a place you want to visit too.”

“Just point it out to me, because I can promise that as soon as I’m inside, I am not coming back out.” Actually, it’s highly probable that Danny will straight up lose all grasp on time and reality and just spend an entire week staring at holographic projections of stars. And seeing how he promised to have dinner with Sam and Tucker so they can all catch up on what they’ve been doing over the summer, he shouldn’t risk disappearing into the depths of the planetarium.

“Actually,” Danny says, “Can we skip the planetarium for today? I don’t want to lose track of time since I am going back home once the sun sets.”

“Sure, if that’s what you want. Any other things you want to see in Gotham?”

“How about best places to eat?”

The Signal goes to reply, and judging by his smile, he’s fully on board with the idea of scoping out Gotham’s hottest food spots, when he falters and turns away slightly. What little Danny can see of his face smooths out into something neutral.

“I’m being called back,” he says after a minute of silence. Danny cocks his head, wondering how he missed hearing someone calling for the Signal. Unless it was like a phone call, but wired through his helmet, which somehow blocked Danny’s hearing…?

Not a rabbit hole he wants to go down. He forcibly puts the thought out of his mind. 

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, the other bats just want to talk to me.”

Bats. Bats?

Danny’s confusion must be visible because the Signal cracks a smile and says, “Man, where the hell are you from that you don’t know about the bats?”

Honestly, hell is a pretty decent description of where he’s from, but Danny’s not about to admit that. 

“Batman, the first vigilante in Gotham,” the Signal continues, “And he’s taken in a lot of others, including me. We’re all Gotham based but a few of us go and help out in other places, or start our own teams.”

“So you’re not the only hero here?”

“Not even close,” the Signal says, “I am the only one on the day shift, though.”

A day shift! Like a job! It’s so far from Danny’s own experience in trying to be a hero that he can be anything but impressed. “You’re the coolest of them,” he says, words tumbling out of his mouth before he’s properly aware of what he’s saying.

“Thanks, man. Even if you’re clearly biased since you’ve only met me.”

“I’ll stand by what I said even after I meet the others. Though I’m not sure I will, since I won’t be here at night.”

“Ah, well,” the Signal shrugs, “That just means I don’t have to share you.”

Danny feels like screaming. He wants to go out into space, scream, and burrow into an asteroid because he doesn’t know how else to process his feelings upon hearing that. Like, holy shit? Is this hero flirting with him? Is he into Danny? 

He needs back up ASAP. He needs Tucker and Sam and look over his interactions with the Signal and give him the verdict. 

“If you like my company so much, would you be up for doing this again tomorrow?” Danny asks, pushing his luck. If he can survive asking Paulina out as his partner to a dance even after his pants fell down in front of her, he can definitely flirt with the Signal. 

He’s got this.

“As if I would say no after how much fun we’ve had today. Come find me tomorrow and I’ll treat you to some of the street food you’ve ever had.”

“Cool! Tomorrow then.” The urge to say it’s a date is strong but Danny is stronger. For now. “You should get going before any of those ‘bats’ come to get you.”

The Signal offers a little two fingered salute, vividly reminding Danny of the fact that those fingers were on his lips, and then he’s swinging away, leaving Danny on the rooftop across from the botanical gardens. 

As soon as the Signal is out of sight and Danny can’t hear his heartbeat, he sinks down to his knees, hiding his face in his hands, and lets out an overwhelmed keen. 

He takes a minute to freak out over 1) meeting a hero 2) helping a hero save people 3) flirting with a hero! 4) securing a not-date with a hero. And then he pulls out his phone and frantically opens up the group chat to yell at Sam and Tucker.

danny: i think i died again bc WHAT THE HELL WAS THAAAAAAT

sam: It’s been two hours danny. What could you have possibly done

sam: Actually hang on you def do way worse in less time

danny: where’s tucker i want to talk to someone who WONT BULLY ME IN MY TIME OF NEED

tucker: can i pls eat lunch in peace

sam: No ♥️

danny: lol no

danny: anyways i met a hero and we flirted? i think?? i am fully prepared to marry this guy and idek his real name

tucker: do i need to give u another lecture on stranger danger

danny: no!!!! 

sam: How old even is this guy? If hes actually like 15 years older than you i Will decapitate him for going after you 🙂

tucker: dude just come back. U can tell us all abt this and let us laugh at u before dinner

danny: and then youll help me?

sam: Ofc danny, as if you’d be able to do anything without us

tucker: 🔼 😀

danny: be there soon!!

. . .

As much as they’ve had their rough patches over the years, Danny can say one thing with certainty: Sam and Tucker always tell him the truth. After everything they’ve gone through together over the past few years, from bullies to family troubles to ghosts and governments, they’ve learned to rely on each other and be as honest as possible. 

Which means that when they laugh at him, he knows they mean it.

“Seriously, guys,” Danny whines, hiding his face in Tucker’s pillow, “I am in distress! Help me!”

“I mean, it seems like you’re doing just fine,” Sam says.

“He had his fingers on your mouth.” Tucker cackles. “It’s so over for you.”

“At least this Signal guy is nicer that Valerie. I’m still not going to let him date you without meeting him first.”

“Sam!” Danny says, “Do not shovel talk a hero from another dimension. Don’t do that to me.”

She casually checks her nails, kept short but still fully capable of digging into flesh deep enough to draw blood. “Please, Danny, you know you can’t stop me.”

“Tuck?” he tries, hopefully.

“Nah, I’m with Sam on this one. We gotta meet him first, make sure he’s good for you, and then we’ll stop hovering and let you date in peace.”

Danny collapses back, bringing up the pillow to cover his face. He briefly considers suffocation as a reasonable way to escape this conversation, then decides that it would take too much time and they could always just take the pillow away from him anyways. “You really think I have a chance?”

He’s said it quietly, and with how the pillow muffles his words, he expects his moment of insecurity to fly by unnoticed.

The pillow is yanked away from him. Sam grabs his wrists and hauls him up to sit, and then Tucker whacks him on the head with his reclaimed pillow. 

“Hey! What the hell?”

“He should be grateful that you’re even giving him the time of day,” Sam says, a fire in her eyes. 

Next to her, Tucker nods so strongly Danny worries his glasses are going to fall off. “Based on what you’ve told us, he is absolutely into you. Neither of you have to do anything about it, since you’re from different dimensions, but he’d been stupid to say no if you ask him out.”

“Besides, you just met today. Give it some time. Crush all you want, but start as friends and see how that goes, okay?”

That’s… sound advice. 

Danny jumped straight to struggling with his very sudden crush on the Signal. But, as Sam said, it’s been one day. He’s got plenty of time to get to know the Signal and see if this crush is any deeper than just hero-worship and admiration. 

He won’t deny that he’s weak to someone strong being gentle with him, but honestly, if he wanted to swoon over buff people, he’d just go to a gym and ask if anyone would be available to help him. It’s worked in the past, it’ll work again. Even if the person who helps him ends up being Dash or someone else on the football team. 

That was a weird day. He’d totally do it again.

He sighs. “You’re right, Sam.”

“I always am.”

“Tucker, if you would.” With a grin, Tucker salutes him then biffs Sam over the head with his pillow.

They both ignore her offended shriek and Danny continues speaking. “I probably shouldn’t even be  thinking of a relationship right now. We’re about to go into senior year and send out college apps and all that. I can figure this whole thing out later. We probably won’t even see each other all that often.”

“But if there’s a chance, and if he makes you happy, promise you’ll go for it.”

“I don’t know…”

“Promise, Danny,” Tucker demands. One of his hands inch closer to Danny’s waist and he watches it with a wary glare. He knows Tucker isn’t above playing dirty via tickling to get Danny to do as he’s told. “Danny. Promise.”

“Okay, okay! I promise!” 

Tucker’s hand pulls away and Danny lets out a sigh of relief. It’s immediately followed by a yelp and his entire body flailing and falling off the bed as Sam, the traitor, jabs him in the side while he’s distracted.

“Just for that, I’m not taking you to the botanical garden in Gotham next week.”

“Wait, wait, wait, I’m sorry. I’ll stop bullying you.” Sam eyes him, consideringly. “For now.”

“I am suffering from feelings and all you two do is laugh at me.”

Shaking her head, Sam reaches down to pat Danny’s shoulder. “There, there. You’ll survive this.”

“Besides,” Tucker adds, “No matter what happens, you’ve got us.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.” He doesn’t bother hiding his smile, knowing they can hear it in his voice anyways. 

Thinking over his time with the Signal doesn’t feel as overwhelming anymore. He’s gotten it off his chest, had his two best friends analyze it to the best of their abilities, found a new rhythm he can work with. His cheeks still flush red when he thinks about the Signal a little too long, but it’s a nice warmth, a promise that there’s something there, that he can see something that makes him happy outside of Amity Park.

He can figure out everything else later. He can get flustered over their not-date to various Gotham food trucks tomorrow, but that’s an issue for later. 

For now, he has a dinner to make with Sam and Tucker. For now, he’s got a quiet day in Amity Park where he can enjoy being with the two people most precious to him, and he can cherish every minute they spend together while the future draws closer with the promise to send them down different paths. 

They have now. They have summer and a visit to Gotham and a certainty that no matter what, they’ll be there for each other. 

And if Sam and Tucker tease him throughout dinner, citing his slow growing skills in making food that’s actually edible for normal humans, well, it’s not like he hasn’t earned it.

It’s not like he’ll need to cook much in Gotham. The Signal will make sure they don’t starve with his knowledge of the best food in the city. 

That’s just what heroes do, after all.