#plus we wanted more legibility

[nekropsii]

kinda surprised I haven't seen anyone else ask this yet, but does sov mituna still have brain damage? I wouldn't expect you to completely veto it obviously but seeing as he is a reincarnation I'm guessing it's a bit different?

Yes, our Mituna still has Brain Damage. It's still specifically a TBI to the Frontal Lobe, and it was still gained through a Great Act of Heroism. The main difference between Homestuck's Mituna and Sovereignstuck's Mituna in that respect is that we write him and his disability with significantly more care and sensitivity. This is because we actually like him, and we do not hate disabled people, lol.

[azsazz]

💐 Dad!Az anon!!

Putting your message here so i can add a read more, but like i said earlier i don't have any words 😭😭 this is def one of the best asks ive ever gotten before and i'm so so so glad you love dad az as much as I do!!

ugh, i love and miss the babies so so much. and i love you too because this message made me feel so many things that i'm still blushing from reading this!!

yes, the kiddies will someday be developed as my OC's...i have plans :)))) 💙💙

Hi Kiers! I have returned, alas, and I have come with me and my complete brainrot. (I am crazy) Without further ado, here is everything I have to say about Daddy!Az and the rest of the Legion. Some might be complete brain rot, while the others fall in the middle or are actually (somewhat) legible literary analyses! just so you know, this is really long. i tried adding a read more button but I don't know if that's available for asks? i distinctly remember it being available... but it is what it is😔

One More: 🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦 SOME MIGHT SAY FIRST IS THE WORST BUT THIS FIRST ONESHOT TO START US OFF?? NOT THE WORST. FAR FROM IT, ACTUALLY. I don’t know if people say it enough, but I adore how you write smut. I have one emotion: 🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦

Family Dynamic: First, I love how your first thought was to go “Oh hell yeah! Daddy!Az! I should make a story about the birthorder of the children!” GOLDEN. your brain has veins with gold flowing through them. COMPLETELY and utterly ASTONISHING how they just come one after the other it’s hilarious?? im reeling😭 AND IRS SO CUTE HOW YOU INCLUDE LIKE LITTLE EXCERPTS OF DOMESTIC LIFE ARE YOU KIDDING ME? THAT’S SO ADORABLE. what gets me most, however, is the last few paragraphs. It’s like, it completely encompasses the reader’s (our) content and it’s so accurate and beautifully worded I can’t help but commend you for it. Plus, Cassian’s immediate “Oh No” gets me everytime😭😭

Keep Me Satisfied: “Going to fuck so many into you, love. A whole litter, I promise.” GET. THE. FUCK. OUT. 🫦 i literally HAVE NO WORDS?? I have no words! I literally have NO words besides the sentence “i HAVE NO WORDS”?? GOT ME FUCKED UP, GOT ME FUCKED OUT, GOT ME FUCKED???? HELLO??? HAS ANYONE EVER TOLD YOU THE WAY YOU WRITE SPICE IS LIKE OTHERWORLDLY TYPE OF IMPRESSIVE?

Hush Little Baby: This is like throwing the first ever blanket I had as a baby straight at me. It’s so familiar, and warm, and It makes me nostalgic because I was once a baby too (weren’t we all?), and I had the same wide eyes Azriel observed in his own babe. This oneshot makes me so happy, & I can’t fully articulate it

Here’s To Tradition Kiers give us a goddamn break or a glass of water to wash down the sugar challenge FAILED MISERABLY i look at nyx, giddy, and wren and all i want to do is CRY and HOLD THEM. I CAN’T EVEN LIKE… I DON’t KNOW HOW TO….ARTICUATE…I WANT TO HOLD. they’re like so little:(((( and im :((( i :((

You Too: I love your writing so much. need I say more. if I do then uhh err rhow do I get my thoughts out what if I just sscream in text AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Can’t You See?: IM CRYINGGGG WREN:( he’s such a sweet, sweet boy and when i first started reading this series i was really excited to see how he’d grow up and it’s just. wow. seeing him so happy makes me so happy. your writing makes me so happy “The little boy even tries to show off his own shadows, “Just like my daddy’s!” He sees both Rhys and Cassian watching with their own fond smiles, silently agreeing with every loving word pouring from the little boy's mouth.” PAUSE. I NEED TO CRY

Concord: I really like how you emphasize the bat babies innocence here. Unlike their fathers, from what I remember because I find it truly hard to focus when i read and like to listen to audiobooks as an alternative, the bat babies have a more stable childhood. theyre surrounded by safe environments, and they see that their parents have these funky little markings on parts of their body and they want to have that too. they hear stories of promises and the like and they want that too. they want what the inner circle have and so they try to ensure they get it and it BACKFIRES ON THEM THEYRE SO:( I feel😞 and WRENNIE ASKING IF NYXIE AND GIDDY CAN STAY FOR SUPPER ?!!!!! I CRY.

come back: 😞😞😞i 😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞love😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞the😞😞😞😞😞😞familyness😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞icryicryicry😞😞😞😞😞😞

Burning Man: Hi! You wound me with your writing sometimes. The utter devastation I feel whenever you write angst is inexplicable! There is truly nothing like it! I did like the comfort right after though. Dad!Az you are my roman empire😞

Promise: GET THE FUCK OUTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT I AM GOING TO CRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY IM SORRU ITS JUST SOMETIMES WHENEVER YOU WRITE ABT THE BABIES THEY’RE LIKE SO WONDERFULLY PORTRAYED.. l CRY I CRY I CRY ITS TAKING EVERYTHING IN ME NOT TO HOLD BAZ RN

Summer Daze: I love how you give us a little peek into Mama’s relationship with the other women, Nes in particular!! i love Nes and i hold her close to my heart so this little peek made me really happy. Especially at how cute her relationship with Cas is, even if its just brushed over:((( its so cute!!!!!! And Azzy kissing Mama’s belly:( that’s so sweet and tender

Two is Better than one: I. LOVE SCENES LIKE THIS. Where a character is thanking and worshipping the person that’s giving them children, blessing them with new life—an extension of love and care; it’s just so intimate and i treasure it and you write it so well it near kills me to stop reading😭 I really really like that addition:(

Taciturn: Punchign wall.😭☹️☹️😭😞☹️😞☹️☹️😭☹️😞☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😞😞😞😞😞😞😞😞 baz they will never make me hate u “How come knoxie doesnt cry like Malos does” HELPPPPPP☹️☹️☹️☹️ “Its okay mommy, i’ll talk for him!” can we get more baz n knox pls. pls. thats truly so sweet.

In the House love built: the way you write smut is so intimate sometimes, and it’s so loving and you encapsulate the bond between mates so well. you’re truly worthy of all the attention you’ve received on this platform

The Calm Beneath The Storm: ☹️ pleaaaase i love how the childrens bonds are so evident and well written too and i just.i just cant properly sayhow much comfort i find in series like this and i cant properly say how much comfort i find in writing like yours ure so good kiers omf

Cuddle Me In: Jax is like living tylenol in a baby im not joking . he fixes ALL my headaches. hes so adorbsicles no one speak to me at all i cry i cry i cry☹️😞☹️😞☹️ punchign. wall

The Rowdy Bunch: Azriel really knows how to man up huh god he’s so fine in rhis one miss kiers u made him sso fine

The HoneyCrisp Grove: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 ARE YOU KIDDING ME THATS SO ADORABLE

Winter Wind: I just think it’s REALLY funny that you deliver honeycrisp grove and suddenly i get hit in the face with 💥BOOM ZUZU CRYING SO HARD HER VOICE IS HOARSE 💥BOOM MAMA GETTING STABBED BY A DISTANT RELATIVE 💥BOOM “help me” WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME. do u drink your readers TEARS for breakfast (this is my way of saying this story is well written and perfect)

Sticking Together: UGHH THIS IS SO:((( I WOULD LOVE FOR AN EXTENSION ON THIS!! like just seeing the #boys and their journey throughout windhaven would be so sad but also such an exciting read?? I hope we get to see how their bond grew because of it, or how it was maintained:(( i really like this story!!

Snatched: Complete rollercoaster of emotions btw. A bunch of ups and downs and round and rounds and i came out dizzy and dazed and possibly bleeding internally. W Eris I love him in this you portray him so well🙏🙏 And also once again. BAZ AND KNOX. GOD. MAKES ME SICK TO MY STOMACH WITH WARMTH.

No tricks, Just Treats: little knox is so precious to me. like he’s just so sweet. and also i remember you mentioning in the batbabies doc that wren, gideon, and nyx had the same dynamic as rhys, cas, and az so thejr costumes are a pretty good touch:D this is the perfect amount of fluff

In Ribbons:

“Baby, baby,” he begs, raising up as far as he can, voice lined with desperation and hazel eyes wide, “I didn’t mean to–” 🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦🫦 HELLO

Unwrapped: “Zuzu and Jax must be on waking you and your mate duty as they’re already climbing up into your bed. Your oldest daughter, ever the determined one, uses all of her strength to pull herself up onto the plush bed, only slipping once.” ZUZU GET BEHIND ME ILL PROTECT YOU 🤺🤺🤺🤺 HUZZAH shes so cute . i love zuzu so much, shes such a sweetie:(( your stories are like huge rollercoasters tbh one moment az is wrapped in ribbons and then the next the kids are fighting over presents and im here for it!! AND ALSO JAX AND AMREN & jax and rhys mention wow. god i love them i love how you put in effort to establish dynamics not only between the family but between the extended family too!?!

Into The New: I LOVE ZUZ SOOSOSOSMUCH:( she triggers fond memories of my own childhood. The way more of her dynamic with the orher members of the inner circle is expanded on in this story is so so sweet. I LOVE scenes where young characters see love blossom between people and KNOW that its love and WANT it but also at the same time i recall seeing an ask where you mentioned if Zuzu ever had a mate she’d think of herself as unworthy which … which is making me connect dots🙏 im trying to connect dots here cuz I SEE THE VISION but im trying to see the TRUE EXTENT OF THE VISION

Here for You: the Zuzu Rules Shirts?? I love Uncle Rhys😭 he’s so real for that tho. toss me one and watch me wear it with pride ??? i love the little things you add into your stories thatninclude the dynamic between characters:(( and also Zuz here being so happy and fulfilled makes ME happy and fulfilled. shes MY BABY.

Between Me & You: “This one’s for all the Jax girlies” ME🙌 JAX IS MY BOY🙏🙏 but also Baz calling Jax “J” is so corny and brother-core!!! (i dunno how else to describe it but i love it) also Bryaxis and Jax⁉️ FRIENDSHIP⁉️🙏 IM ALL FOR IT and i love how we see remnants of Jax’s journey into being able to control his power:((( i hope we get to see more of him (and Knox and baz . i love knox and baz)sometime!

The SafeGuard: IM TELLING YOU IM CONNECTING THE DOTS⁉️🙏 read:. im tripping over protective father azriel and giggling like a complete fool

Warrior Status: I. LOVE. WHEN. YOU. WRITE. SCENES. LIKE. THIS. ITS SO… IRHFJDJD LIKE WHEN YOU GO MORE IN DEPTH INTO THE LORE AND HOW NEW GEN IS HANDLING THE BLOOD RITE AND HOW THEIR PARENTS TRAIN THEM FOR IT IS MAKING ME HRISIDOOD ITS MAKING ME SO HAPPY but also wow. wow um the tension here is real. i always expect a rollercoaster of emotions whenever i read your writing and yet im blown away every time. i love baz, he seems to be capable of more than even he knows, and i hineslty hope theres more content so we cannall see how he’s faring:)

About Last Night:

“If we get caught,” Gideon defends, before adding as an afterthought, eyebrows furrowed, “And she’s not my girlfriend.” LOUDDDD INCORRECT BUZZER❌❌❌❌❌ W W W WRONGGGGG WRONG. EVERYONE KNOWS‼️ i love how giddy is the one who suggests going to autumn primarily to see his girl. it’s very cassian core to me as much as cassian himself disapproves😭 and KNOX’S LITTLE ‘im sorry’ PLEAAASEE THATS SO FUNNY

Torrential: This was actually the first story I read about the batbabies:) I was like, “oh my gosh who is Knox? I didn’t know there was a book out for next gen………… “ i was like genuinely so confuzzled. and this was like a few weeks ago. i didnt even know rhat Knox was an oc but I had, and still have a raging crush on him😞 I truly hope that you take the next gen and turn them into full fledged original characters of yours, i’d love to see them developed to their full extent especially with the teaser i get in this fic. like hello? Knox? River Keeper?? Okay I see you!! THE WAY YOU PORTRAY KNOX HERE UGHHHHHHHHHH HE’S SO LIKE UGHHHHHHHHHH UGHHHHHHHHHHHHH😡😡😡 (positive)

“His lips pull high into a wicked smile. One side curls higher than the other and it’s the first imperfect thing you’ve noticed about him, yet it still makes your breath hitch.” woo that got me. that got me good. you’re excellent

Our Souls Are Stars & Mine Is Forever Yours: kiers your BEAUTIFUL BRAIN is BRAINING again. this is my favorite scoop of content for the batbabies. Maude & Giddy are truly so adorable, and you really did a good job at sparking chemistry between them both. Maude trying to calm Gideon down, Gideon leading Maude to the famous balcony I CRY. I WEEP. HEAD IN HANDS. I WAILLLL I WAIL IN JOY IM SO? YOURE SO GOOD AT WRITING KIERS HOLY FUCK?!?! YOU NEVER FAIL TO IMPRESS ME

to my heart: ouuuuu… okay i see you kiers….i love this oneshot, it’s like really sweet but in a quiet subtle way and i love it when oneshots are like that. Knox’s banter with Malos, knox waiting for a reply… Kiers genuinely bless your heart

Undercover: Jax, Knox, Baz. you will always be the number one’s of my heart. NOW THAT THAT IS DISCLOSED CAN I PLEASE SAY I LOVE HOW YOU WRITE CHARACTERS PINING. LIKE JAX THIS WHOLE ONESHOT IS JUST “grrrrrrrrrrrrr dont you notice me?? 😡😡” and “wait nevermind its not time yet☹️😞☹️” at the last second and hes just so cute in this oneshot but i feel so bad for him (can we get the batbabies dapping eachother up to commemorate the jax and knox interaction in this fic yall!?!)

Jax uses his powers at a party: Heehehehhehehehehehehhehehehe wowwwwwwwwwwww hes like protecting her from afar heheheheh i giggled

Jax finds out Knox’s mating bond has been found out: I LOVE THE CALL BACK TO THIS IN UNDERCOVER. I want to see how the whole family reacts to Knox’s mating bond in the future, hopefully!! It’d definitely be very chaotic, especially if it’s the whole family!!

Bryaxis calls Jax a friend: “There's this boy at my school. His name is Montauk. He always gives me trouble, pushing and shoving me, calling me names…" Jax trails off, his tiny hands clenching into fists, "But I've felt his true emotions, and he's just a sad, scared little boy too."” :((( the “too” at the end im inconsolable. I want to hold each and every one of your next gen characters. pls.

Uncle Cassian’s reaction to finding out Jax wants to be friends with Bryaxis: Cassian is my spirit animal. and i LOVE the way you portray him 😭 he’s so funny i feel like he’d bark if I told him he was my spirit animal

What if Zuzu had gotten her wings clipped at the Steppes? I CRY I CRY I CRY I CRY. UGHHH how you detail Azriel’s devastation and at the same time Zuzu’s acceptance TEARS THROUGH ME. Zuzu is such a strong character and theres nothing to thank for that other than your immaculate writing skills

Zuzu Gets a Cat but it loves Azriel the Most + Wren, Baz, and Zuzu work together to try and convince their parents to get a second cat: I wholeheartedly believe wren, baz, and zuzu were probably nicknamed the triple trouble primarlt because of their tendency to pull shit like this and i LOVE it its so funny. I love your writing sm

I don’t know if you can tell, but I have an actually very secure AND VERY!! NORMAL attachment to this series. And I don’t have anyone to thank but you for writing it and writing it so beautifully; you truly have a gift and I know that it will get you a bunch of amazing opportunities in the future, or even now. I can feel how much work and effort goes into your writing, and the fact that you share it is an honor in itself and I’m so glad to have stumbled across your blog. You are an amazing writer. I look forward to reading more of your writing, not just for Daddy!Az—although I’d love for more of him—but even without him, I’d still love every piece of yours. I honestly hope the next gen characters become characters you take under your wing and develop, I would love to see more of them and they’re such interesting characters already. They’re so cool. You’re really cool too, Kiers!! I hope you don’t mind it took so long to get back to you, I was balancing cleaning my apartment and binging your writing:D I don’t regret anything. Reading your writing feels like a reward after every hard day. I hope to see more of you on my dash, Kiers!!! Keep writing, with your skills and your beautiful mind—it’ll no doubt help you in the long run. You’re really cool:)

xoxo,

-💐 (the one from about a week ago)

[mysticmunson]

lone star, part two

summary: eddie had packed up his things and moved to the big city, indianapolis, but when he enters the fast-growing world of the adult entertainment industry, it gets lonely.

rating: R

warnings: smut, filmed sexual acts, drinking, smoking

authors note at the end :)

word count: 7k

Simple and sweet.

The words entrenched themselves in Eddie’s brain as he got ready the next morning, making sure his hair looked nice and even wearing blue jeans rather than his typical black ones. This was his chance to prove he could be marketable as a boy next door, not just used in obscure films that, even though he loved, were limiting him. Plus a chance to make things up with you.

“Woah. First off, I thought you didn’t work today. Second, whose pants are those? If they’re mine, I swear to God, Munson-” Robin rambled, a half eaten donut in her hand as she sat in her work uniform with Steve at the table. Eddie walked past them to grab a pastry for himself, walking back in with a mouthful of food.

“They’re mine, sweetheart.” He remarked condescendingly, earning a certain finger from her as Steve laughed, taking another sip of his coffee. “But Bill called last night, wants me to do a shoot today, have to be there at 9.”

They nodded, continuing to eat their meals in peace as the clock ticked closer to 8:30. Noticing the time, he scarfed down the remaining bites and quickly went to the bathroom. He brushed his teeth extra long (even using mouthwash for good measure), fluffed his hair, and put on his rings. He felt a little odd wearing a plain black t-shirt, blue jeans and his white sneakers, but it was just another aspect of his profession.

Playing the part.

The nervous jitters he felt transcended down the highway and into the studio building, walking in 5 minutes to 9. Fiddling with the rings on his fingers, he scanned his surroundings for Bill, Rich, or you. 

“Eddie!” Bill exclaimed, making him spin until he caught the older man’s eyes, body poking through his office door and summoning him closer. “You’re lookin’ sharp, buddy.”

“Thanks man.” Eddie snickered, patting his shoulder as he walked in, seeing the other two people he was searching for there. Giving a quick wave and a smile, which you returned while Rich did an upward head nod. 

Leaning against the wall, Eddie watched as Bill looked through the papers on his desk, the leather chair squeaking as he leaned forward. The rustling of papers disrupted the consistent tapping of Rich’s nails against the arm of the chair. You sat silent, hands in your lap as you looked down at your nails painted with a white strip at the top.

“Alrighty, so we need a flix today, but this is last minute so there’s not much planned. What do you have in mind?” Bill asked, looking at you as your head popped up, straightening your posture.

Sitting quietly for a moment, contemplating your options that seemed too vague to necessarily pinpoint, you made a soft hum noise.

“Well, I haven’t done anything with, like, spanking? Or choking?” You peeped, warmth rising to your cheeks despite everyone in the room seeing you spread eagle. Vocalizing your desires seemed much worse than just exhibiting them.

Eddie swears they had to have heard his stomach sink, twisting into knots as your request bounced off every crevice in his brain. Rubbing his chin and feeling the stubble, he nodded in comprehension, awaiting Bill’s response. 

Bill chuckled as he pushed his glasses up as usual, someone needed to get him a new pair. Fiddling with the sheet in his hand, he pursed his lips in a suppressed smile, glancing down at his calendar. It was barely legible with red pen scribbling and black marker crossing out to add new things.

“I like it, I think we should do a scene like that next week. But we still are determining what your first introduction will be. If we come out swinging with the more extreme stuff, we’ll lose the shock factor. Would it be alright if we did a calmer scene?” He proposed, clasping his hands in front of him as you nodded, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. 

Eddie could’ve kissed Bill at that moment, strangled him into a hug and lifted him off the ground. Ultimately, as long as it wasn’t something Eddie strongly opposed, he went with the flow. If you wanted to do a more intense scene, he would oblige, but he was relieved when it turned out to be plainer. 

“We have some leftover props from Aiden’s scene last week, could do a date night scene? Roses and shit?” Rich coughed, his deep voice catching in his voice before sipping his coffee. Bill clapped, giving a thumbs up before flickering his gaze from you to Eddie, both of you nodding.

“Alright! Meet back here in about an hour, we’ll get you all done up and start filming.” Bill stated, quickly putting it on his calendar with Rich being the first to leave. You and Eddie followed, wandering in silence to the front door, a gust of wind sounding as it opened.

Standing in silence, Eddie debated on a good starting sentence, but his mind went blank. He could ask if she was excited for the scene? But what if that sounded cocky or she wasn’t thrilled? Maybe compliment her shoes, they were a pair of black sneakers with blue laces, pretty cool. His hand played at his lip subconsciously as he leaned against the building.

“Eddie?” You called, snapping him from his trance, “Do you know of any place to grab a bite to eat? I was running late and didn’t get breakfast.” Turning towards him, he nodded, pushing himself from the wall and closer to you. The smell of his musky cologne was pleasant, different than the one he used on set previously.

“There’s a really good place a few minutes walking from here, it's a local diner.” He informed, pointing a ring clad finger in the distance, “I could take you there?”

You agreed, the two of you walking down the old sidewalk surrounded by fresh grass. The stroll was quiet, only the sounds of cars driving past and the squeak of both sets of shoes.

Eddie wanted to talk, but he was too wrapped up in his head to form anything. Everything he thought he could say was twisted into something else entirely, already seeing you storming off and begging to have the film with Steve be your introduction.

The small diner was at the corner of the block, a small set of stairs leading to the glass doors. It was empty, besides for a few miscellaneous truck drivers or construction workers who were getting a cup of coffee. 

Sitting at the table in the corner, the menu was an all-American breakfast, your mouth was watering at just the whiff of it. The clink of Eddie’s rings that tapped rhythmically against the counter, the silver rim around it reflecting his hand in abstract shapes.

“Morning, Eddie. You’re up early!” The waitress approached, notepad in hand as you both looked up. Her gray hair was pulled into a low bun with a yellow button up dress, accompanied by a black waist apron. Her eyes had subtle wrinkles, laugh lines that accentuated her soft smile, and her nails painted a pale pink.

“Morning, Veronica. Had to be at work early.” He laughed, handing her the menu, “I’ll have a coffee and the number 3.” She mumbled “Gotcha”, barely audibly, scribbling it down before facing you.

“I’ll have the number 5 please with apple juice.” You replied, handing her the flimsy plastic menu that she exchanged with a nod. She walked off into the back, the silver door swinging back and forth till it came to a halt. 

The decor was 1950s themed, checkerboard flooring with some neon signs teasing 5 cent soda. The shiny red seats at the bar were mounted to the floor, the booths matching similarly across the rest of the place. It was charming, providing a comforting feeling of home cooked meals. 

“I don’t think I’ve had the number 5 before.” Eddie spoke, your attention snapping to him as he looked at you, no clear emotion present. But then again, what kind of emotion should he be having over your choice of breakfast.

“It’s chocolate chip pancakes and bacon, don’t worry I have a toothbrush.” You jested while Veronica brought over your drinks, setting down coasters to prohibit the condensation from pooling. 

The steam from Eddie’s cup rose to his nose as he put in creamer and sugar, stirring it and watching it go to a lighter shade of brown. Pulling out the spoon, he watched the small tornado within it dissipate before taking a sip, sighing at it going down his throat.

“Don’t worry about it, once had a partner eat tuna and garlic bread before a scene.” He assured, but the small smile on his lips let you laugh, placing a hand over your mouth to regain some composure.

There were some unspoken rules in your line of work. Spending your day physically with or in someone means you need to be extra cautious on hygiene, like showering with nicer body wash or putting on extra strong deodorant. 

Even when you would film alone for solos, you took additional routes for cleanliness. There’s very few things more embarrassing than someone saying you smelled bad or were dirty when you were intending to be clean.

Eating tuna and garlic in one sitting is a dangerous concoction by itself, but before a shoot was a whole different type of sadistic. The pair didn’t even sound appetizing, your stomach twisting at the mere concept.

“Did she hate you?” You pondered, but he only shrugged, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he took another drink. You took one as well, wiping your dampened hand on your jeans and seeing them go from medium wash to a patch of dark denim. 

“Dunno. But you’re the first adult I’ve ever seen order apple juice at a restaurant.” He pointed out, his chin resting on his knuckles looking down at your drink with confusion.

“Are you saying you don’t like apple juice?” You inquired, not being able to believe someone could dislike it. Maybe it seemed childish, but it put you at ease, caffeine would only make you more jittery. 

“Not at all, it’s great.” He grinned, tucking some of his hair behind his ear, peering over his shoulder to see Veronica returning with plates of hot food.

The chocolate chip pancakes before you smelt heavenly, a slab of butter melting on top with syrup on the side, while the bacon faintly sizzled after just coming off the grill. This alone could make you horny enough to film.

Eddie’s meal was waffles, crispy with butter and syrup, with a side of scrambled eggs and bacon. It overcrowded the blue ceramic plate, corners of it hanging off the sides, but that’s how you want homestyle food.

Thanking Veronica as she confirmed you both were set, you dug into the feast before you, falling into a more natural silence than the one on your walk. There was a small TV up on the counter playing the news, covered in static and projecting dodgy volume. 

The pancakes melted in your mouth, soft and fluffy with the hints of sweetness. An accidental moan of satisfaction rumbled from your chest, pointing your fork down at the plate for emphasis, but felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

“Glad you like it,” Eddie chuckled, “Lets just hope I’m half as good as those.” 

The rest of breakfast went smoothly, brief commentary commencing in between chewing and eyes averting to the news as it forecasted the weather or moments of good deeds in the city. It must have been a slow day.

The watch ticked on, giving you two only 15 minutes to scurry back to set. Despite your protests, Eddie paid for the meal while you weren’t paying attention, sneaking Veronica the cash underneath.

With full tummies, you walked down the sidewalk and looked at the road, now quieter as rush hour concluded. 

“Thoughts on the diner?” He peeped, glancing at you to see an initial reaction. He knew you enjoyed it, you moaned at the first bite, but it didn’t hurt to have some reassurance. 

Before you could answer, his stride halted yours, looking at him confused. He mumbled something about chocolate on your lip, swiping his thumb at the corner bringing it to his own mouth. The moment wasn’t intentional, Eddie didn’t even process his hand coming to your face, something that felt more intimate than anything thus far.

“It was wonderful, thank you again, Eddie.” You stuttered, hand pressing on your lower stomach from the outside of your green sweater as you continued to walk. He felt his cheeks warm, you didn’t say his name much, but it was nice when you did. 

Holding the door open for you, the warm air of the office forced you to scrunch your sleeves to your elbows, walking to your dressing room down the hall. A man stood inside, setting up different shades of base makeup, along with every color of eyeshadow imaginable.

Your presence wasn’t made known until the door clicked behind you, his head shooting up as he smiled. His hair was a soft blonde, a dangle earring peeking from behind the waves, with a pair of gold, thin rimmed glasses. His outfit was simple, an abstract designed button up with a white tank top exposed from the top button, and black slacks. 

“You must be Eos, I’m Henry, nice to meet you.” He introduced, extending his hand over the folding chair that you met gladly. Enchanted by his trinkets, you watched him set up in awe, slightly unable to believe he couldn’t make all of this into a makeup look.

Maybelline and Revlon were the only two brands you could list off the top of your head, but now the names of French designers and suggestive adjectives branded themselves on the bottles. He motioned for you to sit, the lightbulbs surrounding the mirror illuminating with the click of a button, buzzing for a fleeting moment.

Cold swatches of foundation stroked against your jaw as he leaned back, lips pressing together before he wiped two of them away. Picking up his choice, he pumped it on the back of his hand before painting it with a brush, blending to your hair and neck.

“How long have you been doing this?” You questioned, watching the cream blend seamlessly into your skin. 

“About two days.” He quipped without a beat, your eyes widening as your mouth popped open, “I’m kidding, about four years.”

Laughing as he grabbed the concealer, he put it under your eyes and between your eyebrows, plus over the pesky pimple on your chin. 

“Would it be appropriate to ask how long you’ve been working?” Henry asked, his voice genuine without a sliver of judgment, maneuvering the product around to cover the discolored areas.

“Working in general since I was 16, but I’ve only been doing adult… stuff for a few months. Mostly solos till this week.” You confided as he nodded, grabbing some powder to set your face.

“Must be why I haven’t seen you here before, I work on almost everyone, even did Bill’s makeup for fun once.” He revealed, making you smirk, wishing you had seen your boss covered in shades of extravagant eyeshadow. 

Leaving Henry to his work, you closed your eyes and tried to calm your nerves. No matter what job you pursued, the jitters followed, adding extra tension to your shoulder blades and back.  The successful breakfast made you hopeful of a fresh start with Eddie, but your mind taunted at the thought that it was a fluke. You couldn’t bother to care too much as the smell of pressed powder hit the apples of your cheeks.

Eddie did his typical routine of playing air guitar from his boombox, keeping it at a reasonable volume after one too many scoldings from Bill and Rich. Sneaking in a quick shot of tequila for confidence, he shook his limbs with deep huffs, looking at the popcorn ceiling above him.

His prep time was significantly shorter than his partners as he just needed to show up and get hard. If it was an abnormal day, there were stashes of raunchy magazines to get him riled up. Not only did he not want to touch them as some were older than he was, but waiting 21 years to have sex gave him a fair amount of stamina. 

The typical butterflies in his stomach appeared on schedule, noticing the black clock inching closer to showtime. Anita, the head of the costuming department, left a nice outfit hanging up with a pair of oxford on the oddly colored carpet. The pleated dress pants fit his slender legs nicely, recalling the last time he wore something decorous was to funerals, but he should probably keep that to himself. 

The freshly ironed white button up felt soft against his skin, tucking it in and rolling the sleeves to his elbows. The black ink that decorated his arms stood out even more against such a fair tone. Looking in the illuminated mirror, he adjusted every crevice he could spot before meddling with the top few buttons of his shirt.

Opting to leave the top one open, he took off his guitar pick necklace, placing it in the drawer to his left. While there was likely no one coveting the old plastic plectrum, he kept on guard as often as he could. He recalled the conversation at the diner while fetching his blue toothbrush, scrubbing extra thoroughly to avoid hypocrisy. 

The glass bottle of cologne on the shelf reached a halfway point as he coated himself, giving one spritz down his pants for extra assurance. Shoving the leather shoes on his feet, he flew open the door and grabbed it before it crashed with the wall. The hallway buzzed with chatter as scenes changed, props scattered on the floor that Eddie made sure to dodge as efficiently as he could. 

The set was pristine, looking like the bedroom of an upper middle class family, the kind Eddie used to dream of having to be able to cover his posters across the paint. The bedside table had a small lamp, illuminating the stack of books beneath it and a small jewelry dish with tangled necklaces. 

The cocoon of nerves winding tight in his belly grew firmer, his throat constricting on the blowing air conditioning. Rubbing his neck and forcing a cough, he tapped his foot against the rug placed beneath the ‘room’ set up. 

Hearing a growing bundle of voices, he turned to see Bill and Rich rambling, hands flying for emphasis and extravagance. But behind them was you and Henry, linked arms to keep your feet steady in the tall heels. 

Your hair was done casually, falling to your back in curls against your bare shoulders. The black dress had thin straps and a heart shaped neckline that accentuated your bust before flowing to your midthigh. Bidding Henry farewell, you walked further onto the soundstage and closer to Eddie. 

The heels were blisters waiting to happen, rubbing at your ankle and big toe in an uncomfortable way. Despite this, you adored your outfit, feeling grateful that Henry had vetoed the first dress Anita brought that was a vibrant pink with black stripes. 

“Hey Eddie.” You approached him, smiling beneath your rosy red lipstick that would soon litter his skin. 

“Hey.” He spoke, voice quieter than it had been just an hour earlier, but as your lips parted to check in, it was time to set up. 

The plot was simple enough. You were a couple that just got back from stellar date night, one where sex isn’t on your mind as you drive or as you walk in your house. However when the lights to the bedroom flicker on, there’s something boiling beneath both of you as you want to prove how much adoration you have for one another. 

Scenes like this could be more intimidating than intense ones. Instead of the power dynamics being physical, like being tied or gagged, this was emotional. To be convincing, you have to play the part as well as you can, that having sex wasn’t just to come, but to be so close to someone you feel within your bones already. 

“Sorry, excuse me.” Eddie mumbled, escaping the group to walk to his dressing room, closing the door quickly. Rich and Bill gave each other a look of confusion, before Rich took the initiative to set up the camera. 

Filming Bill was a frantic mess, leaving everyone in his path frazzled, just like always. With panic in his eyes, he wordlessly noted this wasn’t like Eddie, and you knew that. With careful steps, you neared his wooden door.

A flashback to your first encounter flickered in your brain, hesitating your fist until you eventually caved. A muffled ‘Yeah?’ was barely audible, but it gave you enough of a warrant to enter, slowly pushing it to anticipate any refusal.

Eddie didn’t know what was wrong with him. His stomach felt like it was getting wrung out, contorting into shapes as his chest felt heavy. The overstimulation of voices, bodies, and objects infiltrated every one of his senses, believing he could even taste the words leaving anothers mouth. 

Not even registering his departure, he somehow made it to his room, much quieter and subtle.. The thing he couldn’t escape was his body, despite the exchange of environment, it still felt constrained. Rubbing his hands against his face, he paced as he plotted some way to feign serenity for just an hour. 

Picking at his nails, he replied to the knock with little thought, not looking up as the person had fully stepped in.

“Eddie, you okay?” You questioned, guiding the handle back until it clicked shut. He released a forceful huff, running a hand through his long hair. 

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t know, I just feel kinda off. My chest and stomach feel tight.” He affirmed, still looking at his shoes and shoving his fists in his pockets. He familiarized himself with the inner stitches, the way the miniscule thread bound such material together, the inner to the outer layers. 

Cautiously taking a step forward, he tilted his head to meet your line of sight as you showed concern. Your eyes were much more tender than the ones he saw under the harsh stage lights, the mellow aura of the room at the moment made your feature appear softer. 

Soft hands cradled his face, thumbs running across the lines of his cheeks, putting just a hint of pressure that miraculously made him placid. Inching north, the application on the exterior creases of his eyes made them flutter shut as he took a hefty breath. Your fingers crawled closer as you rubbed between his eyebrows, sliding them back down to cradle his face. 

“Where did you learn that?” Eddie questioned, feeling more relaxed than he had in days, the taut muscles causing him aches were weightless. 

“My mom used to do that to me when I’d get fidgety, I did it to my younger sister when she was upset. Must be magic.” You smiled, relieved that the close contact wasn’t awkward and welcomed, watching his cheeks flush to a natural hue. “I’ll give you a second to get ready.”

He watched as you walked away, closing the door quietly with the patter of heels following. He could still feel the tender caress against his face, the pads of your fingers skimming his scruff and the scar between his eyebrows after he hit a swingset as a kid. 

Sitting on the edge of his chair, he took controlled breaths, finding a proper headspace for the scene. He needed to be gentle, but passionate. Everyone in that room needed to be convinced that they had made love millions of times prior, knowing the other's body as well as they know their own. He thought back to the first time he met you, how you moaned against his lips when he gripped your thighs and tugged at his hair when his tongue flickered over your breasts. 

With his pants feeling tighter, he hopped up just in time as everyone rushed to assemble the finishing touches. Your hair was being sprayed once more, thanking the stylist and walking to the edge of the stage. Eddie went up beside you, standing shoulder to shoulder, observing how each and every aspect needed to be just right.

“Thanks by the way.” He interrupted, putting his hands behind his back and clasping them. 

“Anytime.” You teased, but you knew you would actually do it if he asked, especially with those button eyes. Shutting the prop door in front of the two of you, Eddie held it still in fear it would fall on top of you.

With the finishing touches, it was time to start. The slate was filled out for scene one, take one as Bill and Rich called their cues for sound and filming. With a snap of plastic, Rich’s voice boomed over the room as it fell silent, “Action!”

Eddie opened the door, allowing you to walk in first, following the instructions given. You were to walk in first, giving the camera a chance to scan your body, and give the scene a quiet moment before everything began. Time was given to observe Eddie as he shut the door and approached you narrowly.

“That restaurant was really good, tonight was so fun.” You professed, turning cautiously and flipping your hair over your shoulder. 

“I’m glad, but is tonight already over?” He questioned with the corner of his lips turning up, arms snaking around your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel the outside of his trousers, pressing into your lower stomach.

You shrugged, putting your hands behind his neck, fiddling with the collar. With your lip between your teeth, you furrowed your eyebrows together in faux thought. He looked at you expectantly, the lack of a script was making him overthink any hesitation in your speech, but you hadn’t given him a reason to worry yet. 

“I don’t know, you didn’t get me dessert.” You pouted, pressing your chin to his chest, looking up at him. Laughing boisterously, his head tilted back as his Adam's apple bobbed, shaking his head as if he simultaneously couldn’t believe, but expected the rebuttal.

A firm hand smacked then grabbed your ass, making you squeal as he lifted you up, arms shifting below your bottom. The giggles were genuine as he walked towards the bed, slouched over his shoulder and bright lights blinding any surroundings. 

“Put me down!” You yelp, putting a firm hand on his own butt that was now in arms reach. He jolted, making a tsk noise, dropping you onto the bed and bouncing up. 

“You’re gonna regret that.” He teased, straddling over you as he unbuttoned his shirt. Propping to your elbows, you watched in amusement as he struggled to get them undone with his thick fingers, tongue poking out in concentration. 

Sitting up, your smaller fingers were able to undo them efficiently, but you indulge in his body in front of you. Running a hand against his stomach, a hint of hair above his belt buckle made you warm, pressing a kiss above his belly button while pulling the shirt from his pants. 

Dramatically flinging it off for comedic effect, you began the examination of his belt. Pulling the leather through the metal buckle, it made a satisfying sound as it dragged against the fabric and falling to the floor. The noise alone made your thighs clench, 

As you went for his pants, he grabbed your hands in one of his as the other tilted your head up. He looked angelic with his face flushed, hair surrounding him like a halo, the bright lights solidifying his cherubic status. Even his chocolate curls reminded you of the Renaissance paintings of small angels carrying harps.

“As much as I love this, I’d like to see a lot less clothes on you.” He jested, sliding his warm hands beneath your thighs to push it upward. There was a slight malfunction as he couldn’t get it off your shoulders in one go, eventually shimmying it off and leaving you in just a thong.

He laughed in a sharp breath, leaning back with his hands perched on his waist, looking down at you. The stance was meant to be sexy, giving him and Rich a second to observe you with pert nipples and lacy panties. He looked more dominant for some obscure reason, despite the scene being fairly common, it was the essence that dripped from him like honey. 

Leaning down to meet your lips, you cupped his jaw, tasting the mint toothpaste on his tongue mixed with chapstick. Snaking your palm behind his neck, one of his knees planted itself on the mattress, keeping him sturdy as he pulled you closer to the edge. 

Attempting to slide down to the floor, he catches you by the armpits, lowering you easily and fixing your hair. The action is sweet, making your cheeks flush, but you continue your mission of undoing his pants. His thighs were nice, you remembered that from last time, but something about him in refined garments made you more lustful.

The boxers beneath were easier to discard, allowing him to step out of both after you shoved them downward. His dick was pretty, something that definitely couldn’t be said for everyone, and you went eagerly for his tip. The bead of precum fell to your tongue as you dragged against his slit, an assuring hiss from above.

Rich moved closer with a handheld camera, putting it at the level of Eddie’s shoulder. Fluttering your eyelashes, you peered up as you went down to his base. The hairs tickled your nose, but you moaned salaciously and popped off. 

“You’re nothing, but trouble, you know that?” Eddie croaked, urging your mouth open with his grasp on your cheek. With your tongue out, he slapped his hardened length against it and slid to the engulfing entrance of your throat. 

When Rich moved back to his previous position, you rested your hands on his thigh comfortably, keeping your motions steady with the help of his guidance. But his free hand came to one of yours, interlocking them and letting them stay at his waistline. 

He noticed the soft lines by your eyes when he did this, flicking his brows upwards quickly with a strangled moan. You swirled your tongue around him like you need to remember every detail, doting over each vein or patch of skin, creating your masterpiece of eroticism.

Despite his growing experience, Eddie found himself becoming overwhelmed as you maneuvered your way around his manhood, thumb stroking the back of your hand. He yanked your hair to give him access to your lips, crouching to kiss them hastily while tugging you up. His eagerness was soothed briefly by your touch, holding his shoulders while your body pressed against him, feeling the thin fabric between your legs.

With little contemplation, he went to his own knees, nipping your navel and then the petite bow at your waistline. You watched in awe as he held eye contact, dragging your panties down with his teeth until they reached your knees. Motioning towards the bed with a nod, he began removing your shoes as you sat growing wetter and wetter.

The subtly throb in your foot felt relief as he slid them off, humming as he planted a soft kiss to your instep and ankle. He ran his nose up your soft leg, looking up to your amused look with a laugh, biting your thigh.

“I feel like you’re trying to eat me, baby.” You crooned, his face blocked by his wild hair, but you felt his face skim past your cunt. With a sharp breath, you laid on your bare back against the cool comforter, letting your legs spread.

“I’m getting there, doll.” He huffed playfully, licking up your folds to taste your desire. Moans fall from your lips as his vibrates against your core, fluttering at his tender touch. The silk skin glides seamlessly against his eager tongue with little resistance, only breaking his stride to suck on your clit.

The exaggerated slurping noises could’ve made you laugh, but you threw your head back with a moan, running a hand over your breast. With certain people, it was tricky to remember you were in a scene, but then there’s moments where it’s so stereotypical that it takes you by surprise.

Not to say that Eddie wasn’t exquisite at his job, it was pleasurable, but his job was ultimately to perform. You both were paid to give people an intimate show that typically ended in an orgasm if you’re lucky. 

Making direct eye contact with the camera, you bit your lip and groaned before letting your mouth fall open. Running your hands through your own hair, you let them hang up by your ears as Eddie made his way upward.

His lower face was doused in your wetness, leaving a subtle trail of it as he kissed up to your chest, latching to a nipple. Lifting his head, you left pecks from his forehead to his nose and to his cheeks, wrapping your legs around his waist. The new angle gave you a chance to flip over, still attacking his face as he blushed.

“I want your cock inside me.” You stated, rising to hover over his blooming erection as he watched. Truthfully, he wasn’t used to having someone else in control, his scenes usually had him making the rules and calling the shots. While there was no power dynamic for this one, it was interesting to see you start on top.

“I think I can manage that.” He replied with a chuckle, holding your hips still as you began to descend, slipping the tip inside. The pair of you cried out, a mix of sincere and elaborate with the way he pierced through and you squeezed.

Being on top was always riveting as gravity assisted, for better or for worse. Needing extra leverage, you placed your hands on his thigh to begin bouncing, leaning back to give a camera a full shot. Eddie went to his elbows, rolling his eyes at the way your chest moved hypnotically and your slick decorated him.

“You’re so big, it never gets easier.” You cried, satisfaction evident in your proclamation, and feeling firm hands grab your waist.

“Wouldn’t be so hard if you weren’t so fuckin’ tight.” He hissed, repositioning your chests flushed to one another as his feet planted on the bed. 

The thrusts up inside you started gentle as it built momentum, taking note of when your tone became softer and not as rigid. As your body relaxed, he quickened his pace as your hands clutched the sheets. 

A cameraman did a close up of where you connected, the sultry noises of skin picking up from the boom microphone. Eddie slowed it down to give the man a better shot before regaining his tempo. 

As you began to clench around him, Eddie flipped your bodies so he could hover above you, caging you in his warm body. He entered you with more intention this time, sling and languid with not just the orgasm in mind, but bordering on the love making requested of them. 

“I love you.” You gasped, kissing his lips abruptly, threading your fingers through his curls and pushing it back, making both of your faces easier to see.

“Fuck, I love you too, baby.” He groaned, “You gonna come all over me?” 

“Please, come inside of me.” You shrieked, feeling the climax approaching in a hot wave until it consumed you. As your body struck with pleasure, you felt Eddie’s release coat your inner walls, bringing you back to reality.

Eyes fluttering open to see his big brown ones with a dopey smile, you giggled for the 100th time and cupped his crinkled cheeks. Regardless of his softening length inside you, his mouth was avid and met you with affection. 

“Let’s get a shot of it dripping from her!” Rich called, snapping you both from the embrace and Eddie rolling beside you. The device went close to your pussy as his come flooded out into your lips, taking a finger to spread it and taste it.

“That’s a wrap! Great work!” Bill called, the prolific noise resuming in the room as assistance ran up with your robes. The cotton was comforting as it covered your body, tying the knot to keep it closed in front of you as the man beside you mimicked your actions.

Going your separate ways with a brief goodbye and closing the doors to your dressing rooms, you could hear the muffled voice of James Hetfield from down the hall. You laughed to yourself, grabbing your clothes to go into the showers and thinking about the way he wiped chocolate from the corner of your lip.

—--

This was a first for Eddie.

Typically after a day of shooting, he was ready to eat boxed mac and cheese and drink beer. But he was standing in the beaded back room of Family Video, glad that Robin was not in for another hour. Skimming the names on the torn paper VHS covers, his calloused index finger hit the letter E.

Grabbing the tape, he rushed to the clerk and to his van, not uttering a word to anyone. Shoving it in his bag, he sped out of the parking lot with a black trail from his tires. Hands fiddling with the hairs in his brows, suppressing the urge to tug at them as each light turned red or a pedestrian crossed the street. 

Consolation filled his chest as he realized both Robin and Steve were gone, their cars missing from the busy lot. Skipping over a few steps on his way up the stairs, he fumbled with his keys as they rang through the cold, outdoor walkway. The click of the lock sent him flying in, racing to his bedroom and locking that door for an extra safe measure. 

The old television was wooden with a coat hanger sticking from the antenna, providing dodge news channels, Saturday morning cartoons, and the occasional sitcom. The VHS player beneath it was covered in dust as most movie nights were in their living room, almost never finishing before they got distracted and did something else. 

As the tape slipped in the player, he sat on the floor and took a deep breath. Clicking the play button created an unpleasant static before you appeared, sitting on a bed with a lilac dress on, flustered as the man behind the camera complimented you.

Even before his career, Eddie didn’t get the opportunity to watch porn a lot, resorting to crinkly magazines or if a friend had premium cable that got X-Rated channels. When he did join, he didn’t find it enjoyable after knowing all the mechanics, most of the stars, and how some didn’t like each other outside the thin walls.

“I’m Eos, I guess.” You announced meekly, tucking hair behind your ear, your foot shaking against your other ankle. The shoes were wedges, not nearly as tall as the ones from earlier, but enough to emphasize your legs. 

Eddie had a vast mind that ran almost constantly, going from one obscure thought to another with little guidelines. As he watched the blurry screen, he focused more on the abstract elements that most who rented this film didn’t, especially since they had their cock in hand and he twisted his bracelet. Realizing how the background looked recognizable, like the Castle Hotel on the other side of town, one he recorded once in and hated it. It smelled like gasoline and had little noise cancellation.

The small indents of where your shoe hugged your ankle appeared as you slipped them off, very similar to the same ones he felt earlier. Somehow this felt more perverted, the fact he wasn’t just jacking off to it, but truly watching it. 

Losing patience, he grabbed the remote beneath a pile of clean clothes on his dresser with some tumbling to the floor with his sharp movements. Clicking the white arrows, it sped through the introductions and getting acquainted with being in front of a camera, stopping when your clothes were discarded.

A shaky breath ran through his lungs when you pressed a vibrator to your clit, achieving a timid gasp at the incentive as you began to glisten under the bright lights. The stirring in his stomach was a mix of arousal and nausea, feeling his face scorched, but his pants constrict. 

With a few more taps to the remote, you had a dildo between your legs as a haughty song blared through the weak speakers, jolting Eddie to sit straighter. Your mewls were barely audible and the angles were atrocious, scanning down your body as you whined and traveling up as your cunt made amatory noises. 

Rewinding to the beginning and ejecting it, he sat with it in his hands, slightly disgusted with himself and his evincing erection. Shoving it back in his bag, he marched to the bathroom and shut the door aggressively unintentionally.  

Tugging at his knotted hair, he dragged his clammy paws down his warm cheeks and looked at his own brown eyes in the mirror. The bags under them were more prominent as he was deprived of sleep, too many thoughts infiltrating his waking moments till his body finally gave out. 

Turning on the faucet, he splashed tepid water in his face, droplets decorating him like ornaments on a tree. His lashes clumped to a darker brown as he cooled down, blindly reaching for his hair tie in the side drawer to put it in a low bun. 

His hands clenched the beige granite countertops littered with products and guitar picks, subconsciously noticing the way he could make out a dog in the splotches of black igneous rock. Stretching backwards till his rear hit the white wall, he rolled himself against it until he saw his own reflection once more, continuously asking himself the same question.

Why the fuck did you rent that tape?

authors note: hi there! thank you for reading and for your patience! i can't begin to say how much reading the comments on my first part means to me, i love writing and i'm glad i can do it for people with a similar interest as me. a special thanks to my loves autumn ( @lilacletter ) and august ( @indouloureux ) for being my favorite people and helping me with this piece. mwah.

taglist: @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @edsforehead @wiltedwonderland @idathereader @red-2-0@cutiecusp @haileyhellfire @bimbobobaggins69 @harrys-tittie @sillypurplemurple @thikkiesixx @metalsunflowers @creepytoes88 @girl-frm-mars @eddiesbabe95 @qnsfwthoughts @p4st3lst4rs @whoahoney @Innlove @whore-for-eddie @kiyastrf94 @mirrorsstuff @micheledawn1975 @whoreforhowl @killyspinacoladas @nevermore66 @aysheashea

@sweetsouthernbitchery @sidthedollface2 @trixyvixx @munsonsuccubus @gaysludge @abirdinthehouse @christalcake @lokiofasssguard616 @loving-and-dreaming @igotloki @munsonology

[waffleweirdo]

I ramble about Nana and her relationship to the auditions, and what I think that says about her character and how it ties into revstar's themes for 680 words (this is just my interpretation):

First and foremost I think one of the most interesting things to look at is the motivation Nana has for participating in the auditions...

Nana's first reason for pursuing the auditions wasn't to become a top star. She wanted to be able to perform on the stage of destiny so that she could begin her reruns. A very different motivation than every other original character. However she still followed the system of the auditions and became the top star. Afterwards she continued winning the auditions, for her same desire to continue the reruns, but also out of a belief that she was protecting everyone else from getting their brilliance stolen (albeit definitely in her own warped way). She becomes trapped in the necessity to win. We don't see the time loops extensively, but I think it's pretty safe to say that she definitely wasn't having the BEST time. Judging by her breakdown after losing, and well, just her general mental state, and, y'know, repeating a single year over 70 times due to your crippling fear of the future and loneliness probably isn't all sunshine and rainbows.

Nana originally didn't even want to be the top star. She loves theatre, but wanted to pursue a stage where she wasn't alone, and she found precious in Seisho leading to a performance that felt so perfect to her it was blinding. She hates Starlight, and is happiest, not when she is performing, but when she is everyone's Banana. She didn't want to be the isolated top star, but through her participation in the auditions she becomes trapped in the top star system.

(It's a bit of a tangent, but the fact that Nana who hates Starlight and doesn't even want to be the top star is ultimately the person who wins the auditions, combined with factors like her natural height and brilliance as shown by her two weapons just further adds to the show's critiques of the ideal of a top star)

It's almost like a monkey paw kind of wish. I think this is a lot of the reason Nana hates being a stage girl so much. She loves theatre. She loved the 99th Starlight and finding friends at Seisho. But when she became subject to the system of the auditions, being a stage girl meant fighting constantly to desperately claw at her happiness, where a single loss meant her happiness and all of her friend's brilliance would be stolen. That life or death, miserable struggle is what I believe Nana thinks of as being a stage girl. Not only does she believe she is protecting everyone's brilliance, but stopping any of them from being the top star, and is protecting them in doing so. (Hi Arcana Arcadia Nana)

I think we can also see a lot of this ideology in the Revue of Hunting. Nana cares deeply about Junna and sees how she has been struggling. And through her perception of what being a stage girl means thinks the most reasonable solution is 100% to kill the stage girl that is Hoshimi Junna. I think it's also interesting that when Nana is talking about Junna being dazzling she specifically references the time that Junna was overworking herself so much that she literally collapsed and she was miserable with the fear of being a failure... yeah Nana really does not think being a stage girl is a good thing.

I'm so normal about revue starlight and especially about Nana :)) hopefully this wasn't just word vomit and was at least a bit legible.

The moral of the story is Revue Starlight is incredible at conveying its themes, and every time I think about it I realize something and I'm like oh heck! The writing is so good

I also think this is only Nana's perspective before the end of the show, she's still struggling a bit in the movie, but is definitely growing! Plus in Climax she is happy living in London! I think she definitely ends up happy

I have so many more thoughts, and I barely even talked about Junnana and Nanahisa! Nonetheless, I hope you enjoyed my rant

[astralfandoms]

so next up in the toontown managers we have brian!!!

i ended giving him more segmented antennae because i thought it would look cute and i think it looks nice :3

anyway time for the text that may or may not be legible let's go!!

Is in a rivalry turned polycule between himself, Benjamin, Mac, and Winn

Antennae act as mood indicator (example: bright pink being embarrased, fuschia being in love, ect.)

Loves these guys (Buck, Benjamin, and Mac) (sometimes more than he wants to admit)

Has elytra + wings + abdomen

Pulls all nighters a lot (usually stopped by Benjamin) Usually because of trauma nightmares

Has immense guilt about The Incident and has trauma nightmares about it

Avoids Buck due to guilt and paranoia of hurting him again

plus the little bonus text of "oh lord he angy"

*holds him and buck up* i have thoughts about their dynamic :3

[masterqwertster]

I'm really curious, after all the time we've spent on Ruidus so far, if there is a local Ruidian language.

So far, we've only heard Ruidians speak Common, psychically, or some grunt-barks (usually for animal control).

We know that they learned Common from Exandrian dreams. Which is honestly wild considering plenty of dreams have no words, there are other languages on Exandria that one can dream in, and dreams are such a piecemeal way to learn anything with any reliable accuracy. Not to mention vernacular shift over time that Ruidians then have to decipher without the proper/full context for the shift. Like, I've got to wonder if the Ruidians even realize that there's more than one language on Exandria and not just subsets of words with less common use considering how so much of Exandria is bilingual-plus between the trade-language of Common, species specific languages, plus the regional language.

Psychic communication can, technically, overcome lack of words by pushing emotion and images. Though actual words are great for vague/complicated concept communication and seems to be the norm.

However, we do know as of ep90 that Ruidus does have its own written language. Or at least one that isn't Common, Marquesian, Celestial, Dwarvish, Halfling, Gnomish, Undercommon, or Shadowcant, as those are the languages Imogen, Orym, Chetney, and Laudna all know when Matt said they didn't recognize the writing on the sample labels.

And it makes sense that Ruidians might create their own writing system. Writing tends to show up even less in dreams and doesn't even have to be properly legible in the dream for the dreamer to know what it says because Dream Logic. And this doesn't even get into the different writing systems that also exist on Exandria to be potentially mashed together in dreams. So really, if the Ruidians want writing, they honestly do need to come up with their own system.

I really am just curious about more Moon Society Lore.

[everafter-life]

Is there a reason you support those who call themselves transdisabled? It is not healthy for a completely able-bodied person to desire disability whether by not wanting limbs, wanting to be mentally ill, etc. This type of phenomenon is incredibly horrifying. It does not make sense to want to support someone who believes they should be in a wheel chair, missing an arm, blind, etc. I believe this to be an extreme type of body dysmorphia which would need intensive therapy to understand the psychological desire to be disabled. To me, and many people, this is not a widely accepted school of thought.

I’d like to hear your thoughts more on how you feel as not many blogs welcome the difference of opinion on many transIDs. That, and I have no interest in hearing from a child (assuming you are in fact 20). This is something I’d assume is more common in teenagers or preteens.

Much like other times I’ve replied to anyone asking or speaking, I’m going to organize this in a way so it can be legible on what exactly I’m focusing on, since sometimes people jump everywhere and that can get confusing for me.

“This is something I’d assume is more common in teenagers or preteens.”

From what I’ve seen, there are a lot more teens/preteens who do, at least vocally, support this stuff, it’s part of the reason I’m not too active in the community as an adult because it can feel quite odd and i don’t want minors to look up to me in a weird way or anything. The thought of that makes me so uncomfortable which is why when i tend to get a wave of notifications i quickly stop posting because that makes me feel odd (Plus people who mass report without even trying to explain their opinions)

“It is not healthy for a completely able-bodied person to desire disability whether by not wanting limbs, wanting to be mentally ill, etc.”

The first thing i want to talk about here is the “completely able-bodied person” part. Now i don’t doubt that able-bodied, neurotypical, mentally sound (with no better word i can think of myself) trans-abled people do exist, i also know that there are plenty of people who, if they’re labeled or not, do desire to become disabled. There is in fact a disability all on its own connected to this (Body Integrity Identity Disorder, aka BIID) but i assume you would be devoiding those with that disorder with stuff like this since most people do (i won’t be saying my opinion on that here since that doesn’t connect to the conversation at hand)

Next, the “It is not healthy” part. Now i cannot confirm nor deny that since i’m not a psychiatrist of any degree, but i don’t think something being “unhealthy” at any level should mean to ostracize and shun those with those thoughts and actions. It would be better to be able to have there be a place where those with those thought processes can be treated nicely (that can be put to interpretation since everyone would interpret it differently, even i’m not fully sure what it would mean)

“This type of phenomenon is incredibly horrifying.”

I do greatly understand this, i mean, sometimes the thought of it does still make me get weirded out for my disabilities, but then i remember that, no one knows someone better than themself. As long as people aren’t sending themself to the hospital due to doing something unsafely and unprofessionally, i don’t see much of an issue (which is personal, i know others will believe differently but i was raised to basically let people live their life)

“I believe this to be an extreme type of body dysmorphia which would need intensive therapy to understand the psychological desire to be disabled.”

As stated previously, there is a recognized disorder that is a form of dysphoria (by the medical definition) where one believes their body and/or mind doesn’t match your mental image, it does need a lot of therapy to lessen but currently we have no cure for it.

Although other than that, I’ve talked to people, both who do and don’t identify as transabled, that say they wish they were more/less disabled because it would make it so they were believed more about their issues of any kind, or because it would make their current life a lot less hard in any regard. It might be a psychological issue or not, but if people keep treating those who do believe they should be disabled as horrid people, then they will never be able to get any help at all (that is if they even want help, since you can’t force someone to get help, it never works)

I am 100% willing to listen to others beliefs and thoughts, i find it odd when people won’t

Unless it’s like.. saying someone should die because they were born a set way, that’s something i will never listen to because i don’t think people should be killed for how they were born/something they can’t control.

I’m sorry if this looks weird, i typed it on my phone’s note app because it’s easier for me to get thoughts out in there.

[bluebellhairpin]

ME. ME. MEMEME. SHAMELESSLY RUNNING into this event while the bf fixes the minecraft server <3

umm umm umm

Levi Ackerman of SNK

She/Her - Anlian

and 2024 has been rough, so may i please order half sfw and half nsfw (plus extra shot of espresso and sub oat milk)

Thank you Nemooooooooooo

It's no problem baby (and you other ask, I'm keeping it to get a reminder every time I open my ask box from now on LMAO) PLEASE ENJOY <33

Dearest Anlian,

Can you believe it’s been another year already? Time goes by too fast. It’s been tough for both of us, but I wouldn’t rather have gone through it with anyone else. 

I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to know you. I’m gonna get all sappy and shit, you bring it out of me. I’m not sure why, I guess I just love you that much. 

I’m not entirely sure what else to say, but my heart is so full. What’s that quote? “If I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more”? That sounds right, at least to me. Whenever I think of you I just get so consumed by the weight of it - it leaves me outwardly looking like an emotionally constipated mess (so Hange says) but I can’t help it. It’s a good thing you’re not around all the time, otherwise I’d never get shit done, and we both know I’m one of the only ones around here who does. 

This letter’s less of a confession, more of a reminder. I know I don’t say it often, but I love you. So much. 

Even when you’re not around your touch haunts me. I have to stop myself thinking of you otherwise my mind wanders so far that I cannot stop it. It reminds me of the nights we spend together, the kisses shared, the things we do that are only seen by closed doors and each other. Even now the thought of what we do - what we most likely will do later - is making it hard to keep my writing legible. 

I’m thinking of how hard it will be to keep my hands to myself later - when we meet later for afternoon tea, before you read this - just being reminded of the care you put into making sure my tea is right, let alone seeing you do it, has me filled to the brim once more with the desire to show you how much I appreciate your choice in choosing me to love. 

I would tell you, but I’d much rather show it. I always do, but now more than ever.

Yours, Levi

[send-up-my-heart-to-you]

theories for chain of thorns

i had these posted on my gr from like december, im just posting them here

- lucie will now be an antagonist lets be honest we all know it. necromancers are NOT good people and thats the path lucie chose for herself by wanting to save jesse

- someone major will die idk who it is yet, but my instincts tell me its matthew or alistair. the second wouldnt make sense tho – if alistair dies, how would the carstairs line continue down to emma??? hopefully itll be tatiana that bitch

- jamie x daisy its inevitable guys, have you seen the snippets? im rooting for them theyre perfect

- thomas and alistair are NOT gonna end up together this was a gut feeling when i wrote it but as of jan 5 i have a legible reason as to why they would not be happy and its the next theory

- IM SCARED THOMAS IS GONNA DIE the “found family tree” says that thomas died TWO YEARS before barbara. i understand cassie has repeatedly stated that its been manipulated (she hinted that it was changed by the silent brothers) and isnt reliable. but isnt that disturbing?? esp considering theres at least part of it thats reliable, and thats the fact that alistair will 100% go on to marry a woman despite being gay. if alistair doesnt have kids, and cordelias children are all herondales, then the carstairs family would die out and emma would not be related to jem (even tho its been stated that they are related by blood). “oH bUt SoNa iS pReGnAnT mAyBe ShEs GoNnA GiVe BiRtH tO a bOy” first of all, theres a chance the baby is born a girl second of all, the baby might die third of all, where is the son on the family tree? fourth of all, SONA IS, ACCORDING TO THE TREE, DEAD BEFORE THOMAS. PLEASE.

- grace x christopher i despise grace but she acts like a different person around kit… maybe he can fix her

- anna x ariadne she cant fuck up ALL the gay relationships, now can she?

- the merry thieves are gonna forgive alistair (specifically matthew) bro he literally made out with one of them TWICE. if matthew doesnt think “well shits gonna get awkward if i dont forgive the sorry bastard” istg~ 💀

- this is more of a hope than a theory MATTHEW FAIRCHILD SHALL ACHIEVE THE HAPPINESS HE DESERVES smth tells me he wont get a happy ending tho… i mean, if my above theory abt thomas is correct~

- SO DOES ALISTAIR I MEAN CMON GUYS #justiceforalistair he regrets the shit hes pulled and therefore your hate against him for it is invalid PLUS HE GOT BULLIED BY RACIST PIECES OF SHIT HE DID WHAT HE COULD TO MAKE IT STOP

- matthew will open up abt his secret its like a routine at this point, in every shadowhunters series. a character has a secret that nearly kills them outta despair, they open up to friends, theyre met with love and support. jace loving his “sister”. wills “curse”. emma and jules’ relationship. ty bringing back livvy. alec being gay. you get used to it lol

- either lucie or matthew would have their marks stripped lucie for attempting/committing necromancy, and matthew because sobh said he doesnt have a specified death date (also i think cassie just hates him)

- jesse will be evil bro wouldnt that be cruel… like imagine after lucie brings him back hes like “haha i manipulated you to bring me back i never loved you” and then sHe GETS HER RUNES STRIPPED FOR NECROMANCY and its worse bc the shadowhunters are already out to get the herondales bc they refuse to accept tessa as anything but a warlock no but in that case she would prolly go to live with wills parents OKAY BUT IMAGINE HOW HEARTBROKEN CHARLOTTE WOULD BE WHILE DOING IT WHILE JAMIE IS CRYING AND MATTHEW SCREAMING AT HER NOT TO AND WILL TELLS HIM TO STOP WHILE TEARS ARE GOING DOWN HIS FACE

- a “seven husbands of evelyn hugo” thing with anna x ariadne and thomas x alistair (credit to my good friend wiz/nisha for saying this) maybe cassie is going to have thomas marry ariadne and anna marry alistair so that they could have a good old switcheroo, so they can swap lovers?? obviously it cant be anna and thomas lmao theyre cousins but thomas and ARIADNE…

- matthew and cordelia ARE going to kiss at one point HOL’ UP I DONT SHIP EM, i think its gonna be a climon kinda thing where they kiss and dont like it as much as they thought they would, and end up deciding to stay friends i think thats the best way cassie could deal with matthews crush on her without breaking anyones heart, i hope to god it wont be like him confessing and her rejecting him plz oml

[nudgeling]

Part one

The cheery tune of Queen's "Crazy little thing called love" rang out three times in the hungover silence. Each one chipped a little bit away at Pearl's unconsciousness, but the final third one became the straw that woke her up. She denied the call and turned her head back into the corner of the couch. Her head felt like lead. It rang out twice more before she groaned and finally picked it up.

“Hello?” she grumbled into the cell, eyes still closed.

“Pearl!” The volume made her head spin and ache. “Where the hell are you? I got home and you’re not here, and no one knows where you are, and you haven't picked up your phone in-”

“Please. For the love of God. Stop shouting.” Angry Scottish was annoying at the best of times, but at the moment it was straight up painful.

“I’ll stop shouting when you tell me where you are, I thought you’d been kidnapped or something!”

“Fine, fine, just quiet down, my head’s killing me. I’m…”

She sat up and nudged the sleep-fog out of her eyes with a yawn. When her vision cleared and her surroundings came into reality, she promptly nudged them again because she must have done something wrong the first time around. Then she did it a third time. Everything about the room she found herself was still completely unfamiliar. She came to the begrudging realization that she had no idea where she was.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Maybe I have been kidnapped.”

“What?”

It was a college student’s apartment, that part was clear. Barely three steps to her left was a kitchenette, to the right an ajar door she presumed led to a bedroom, and the hall and bathroom were squeezed in between the two, yet the host still managed to afford a flat screen TV and a PS5. Not to mention the place was as messy as a junkyard, which made her inner cleaning lady scream. Right in front of her was a low table with a collection of various paraphernalia scattered from one end to the other, one of them catching her eye, as it was probably supposed to.

“Oo, hang on, there’s a note.”

It was a striped paper with ripped off stapler-holes on the edge, with a handwriting that was thankfully pretty legible. She skimmed over the words and mumble-read it to Scott on the other end.

Hey, if you wake up before I do, don’t panic. You’re not kidnapped and we haven't hooked up or anything either. You were really drunk yesterday so I was giving you a ride home, but you passed out before you could tell me the address so I let you crash at my place instead. The door is unlocked so you can get out any time you want. Please don’t steal anything.

Martyn

“What does it say? Are you safe?” Scott asked. Apparently her mumbling hadn’t been that effective.

“Do you know who Martyn is?” she asked, ignoring his question because it was second nature to be petty to Scott. It sounded vaguely familiar, though she was terrible with names.

He went quiet for a second. “With a ‘Y’ or an ‘I’?”

“A ‘Y’, it says he brought me to his place when I passed out yesterday. I passed out?”

“I…”

“Not kidnapped anywho, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she muttered, a bit bitterly but she was only human.

“Pearl. Do you remember anything about last night?”

“I fear my head will explode when I think too hard, so no.”

“Oh. Well. Probably for the best. At least you’re safe… hopefully. Just, please be careful around Martyn.”

“Hah, sure, always am.”

“I’m serious, Pearl. If I were you I’d get out of there.”

“So now you care about me?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Naww.”

“Nothing has changed because I don’t want you to be dead. I’m just here to pick up some stuff, call me when you get back.”

“Scott, wait-”

The line went dead. Great. She threw her phone to the floor with as much force her hungover body could manage. It thudded weakly on the floor.

Getting up to a standing position made stars flood to her head and the floor tilt like a funhouse, and she soon fell right back into the squeaky couch. The second attempt was slower but better, and she only had to combat a slight dizziness, plus the ever present beating headache, as she made her way over to the door on her right. She gently pushed it open.

It was way darker inside of Martyn’s bedroom. Thick gray blinds covered the windows, creating black squares with sunlight edges. On the queen sized bed lay a bulging shape beneath the sheets, his shoulders and blonde head peeking out and both hands nestled underneath the pillow. His face was featureless in the dark. She leaned against the doorframe and knocked gently on the door until the figure roused. A couple seconds of bleary orientation passed before he seemed to clock the situation.

“Oh. Hey.”

“Hi.” She gave a small wave. “You said no stealing, but do you by any chance have some aspirin I could, uh, borrow? My head is murdering me.”

“Yeah, uh…” He propped himself up on his elbows and pressed his fingers into his eyes. Pearl sympathized. “Ibuprofen ok?”

“I’ll take anything.”

“Bathroom cupboard, top shelf, blue box.”

“Thanks.”

She closed the door. She hadn’t recognized the voice, so maybe she didn’t know the guy after all. It would be nice to get a proper look at him before she left, but she wouldn’t go out of her way to wake the poor dude up again.

The bathroom was somewhat cleaner than the rest of the apartment. The shower had sleek green curtains, adding a bit of color, which was pleasant. There were two toothbrushes as well, one blue and one green with a red floral pattern. Girlfriend, maybe? She really doubted this guy had a roomie.

Less pleasant was the mirror on the cupboard where she caught sight of her reflection. She looked like she felt; like shit. Sticky hair, smudged makeup, baggy eyes. Her whole body felt heavy and sweaty, and a sniff beneath her arm made her wrinkle her nose and add “stinky” to her current list of adjectives. She hated not being clean. It made her itch.

The blue plastic box was easy to find, and so was the ibuprofen laying on the top layer of part medicinal items and part random junk like hair clips and rubber bands. There was also a fuck ton of bandaids, a bottle of adderall, and a testosterone injection kit, because she couldn’t help being nosy. However, there was a far more interesting item peeking out from the bottom, a prescription bottle that didn’t catch her attention until after she had downed the painkiller and was about to put the box back on the shelf.

It was one of those drugs, those who cartoon characters in TV anti-drug campaigns warned against and doctors only prescribe under uttermost vigilance. The kind she used to take great care to stay away from, the same way she did with cigarettes and alcohol. But that person felt very far away as she held the bottle in her hand. Funny how much 48 hours could change a woman.

She put three pills in her pocket, not knowing until far later the twist of fate that one action had just caused.

Martyn was heading across the living room when she got out. Her wish to see his face was granted. He was dressed in a green T-shirt and jeans, and had the same familiar headband around his head, just like he used to.

"It’s you!" She blurted.

He startled, stopping in his tracks. “It’s… what?” he buffered.

Martyn. That’s why it was so familiar. If she’d been asked to name Grian’s old friend with the bandana she probably could have shaken up the answer sooner or later, but as she hadn’t sent a thought his way for years at that point, the idea that this Martyn was that Martyn hadn’t struck her for a second. He was a background actor in a background memory. Considering the lengths he'd apparently gone to help her, it made her feel pretty guilty.

"I had totally forgotten your name and your voice has dropped by like an octave, I'm so sorry."

He seemed to connect the dots, and suddenly barked a laugh. "You thought I was a stranger?”

“Kind of?”

He chuckled. “I mean, fair, I suppose. Awfully confident asking a stranger for meds, though."

Pearl shrugged. "Fear don’t got much on me these days."

Martyn hummed, like he’d unlocked new character info and was storing it away under the 'Pearl' file.

"Right, well now that you figured out my identity," he continued, "I need to clarify that I'm not normally this messy."

"Girlfriend away or something?"

He went silent, cluing Pearl that she was wrong.

“Boyfriend?”

He went to say something, then hesitated and spoke anew. "I mean, yeah, in a sense. The first one, that is. She uh… we broke up."

“Oh.” As if feeling like trash wasn’t enough, she now felt like an idiot as well. “I didn’t know.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

Silence followed. Fantasies about sinking through the ground or being pelted by a legion’s stash of arrows floated through Pearl’s mind. She cleared her throat.

“Look, I’d like nothing more than to get out of your hair, but is there any chance I could borrow your shower real quick first?”

“Oh, sure, go for it,” Martyn perked. “Want a change of shirt?”

“You don’t have to-”

“I know, I know, just… Would you like one?”

"Uh… do you have anything that fits?"

"I'll see what I can find."

He walked off without another word, and Pearl, after buffering a bit herself, slid back into the bathroom. Scott’s words of warning came back to her, which she found increasingly hard to believe. If Martyn had been flawlessly charming and clean, then she wouldn’t have had any trouble judging him as a problem and potential danger. Instead what she’d been met with was a messy, awkward, probably heartbroken boy who still put his foot forward with kindness. Screw what Scott thought, she liked this guy.

She locked the door, just to be sure.

[silphine]

ESCAFLOWNE Voice meme (4/5)

[ Escaflowne voice meme made by @drkstars-art ]

PART 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5

------------------   

4. Least favorite plot point? Was there something you think should have changed? What do you think would have made it better.

I think Atlantis arc and Great War arc. I wouldn't tell what staff "should" have changed because I don't feel legitimate to do so, plus I don't have access to the original script. But I can share my thoughts on what bothers me. (It's more or less already said in my answers to previous questions...) [ Atlantis Arc ] My main problem with this arc is it leaves me with too many questions about : - Draconians - Hitomi's grandma and Leon Schezar's meetings - Zaibach I would had loved to learn more about these topics. [ Great War ] In my opinion, this part is too short and events happen too fast. We don't have context about Basram, Cezario, Egzardia... Too bad because I think it would have brought more depth to the climax.        

5. OTP? What kind of art and fiction would you like to see? What are some head canons you have for them? What is your NoTP?

  I love 3 couples : ( VAN x HITOMI ) It's quite obvious for me that Hitomi unconsciously starts to fall for Van early in the story, despite her superficial focus on Allen. > Allen is a fantasy, a reassuring and pleasant figure for a romantic teenage girl. It's easy to have a crush for this kind of man. Van, on the other hand, is less understandable, less "legible". (Fun fact > Allen is always awesome, elegant and a pleasant company. Van is poorly dressed, has no manners, doesn't know how to deal with girls, neither talk to them, even less how to seduce them...) But he represents the reality of truly loving someone :

Despite all imperfections, misunderstandings and vexations, Hitomi learns to understand and love him for who he really is. Each time he is in danger, she just jumps and even risks her life to help/save him. She doesn't act the same with Allen. Van is the only one who can really make her mad or sad. They never try to seduce one another, never hide themselves... Sometimes they are tough to one another, but they truly care about each other. To me, that's what a real couple is.   ( MILLERNA x DRYDEN ) I just love how they complete one another, even if they don't end up together at the end of the series. Millerna is independant, curious, wants to learn more about medecine... She needs an educated partner, with repartee, who can understand and support her but who would not overprotect her. Dryden ticks all the boxes. He is modern, doesn't see her as a precious little thing and her royal status doesn't influence his behaviour towards her. But again, as I said in part 3/5, they need time to reveal. ( MAHAD x MARLENE )

For the little I understood and saw : I just love the idea in their couple ! The fact he recreated her apartments in Fleid....

  The way his last thought is dedicated to her, as she told him she learned to love him, just before dying... This man is so strong, reliable and kind ! I always loved him ! And I love the idea she learned to love him despite their arranged marriage. ( Couples I don't appreciate ) I don't like Allen x Millerna, neither Allen x Hitomi : Because, despite I've learned to really appreciate Allen over the years, I think he can not be a sane partner for Millerna, neither Hitomi. He is too traumatized by his childhood, his first love Marlene and obsessed by control and protection. He is a very kind guy but really needs to work on himself before becoming a good life partner. [ ABOUT ART & FICTION ]

I don't want to ask for something in particular because I love the idea to be surprised by someone else's work. Of course, I have my own preferences. Some works touch me, others not at all. But I think Art and Fiction are more meaningful and stronger when they come from the mind and heart of their creator, not when they follow people's desires. So, honestly, feel free to do whatever you want ! [ > PART 5 ]

[awritingcaitlin]

💥Find the Word💥

Thank you @juls-writes for the tag!

My words are drape, empty, care, lips, and sideways

Snippets will be under the cut from Cure for the Queen!

But first, tagging @legiomiam, @samplewriting, @muddshadow, @mr-writes, and @saphoblin for the words: flicker, work, back, know, afternoon

Here we go!

💤DRAPE(D)💤

Rinnie’s eyes flickered open and she recognized that she was still on the tiny bed next to Killian. His arm draped lazily over her and she welcomed the comforting weight. Since her back was to him, she couldn’t see if he was awake or not, but his breathing was steady and she thought that perhaps he was still asleep.

“You’ve barely been asleep five hours,” Killian murmured. “Perhaps you should try to doze back off?”

There was stray bits of light coming through the windows in the train car though.

“I should check on the patients,” Rinnie said.

“Mica’s been on it,” Killian replied.

Rinnie tried to come up with another excuse. But also it was warm next to him.

“I don’t think I can sleep any longer,” she mused. Though she did not move. “It was nice to get some sleep though.”

.

��EMPTY🍻

“Some sort of tavern,” Killian said. “That will work.”

They walked over and Adler was almost concerned that they wouldn’t be let in at the hour, but the proprietor seemed eager enough to get some last-minute business. Killian set Mica and Riela to grabbing the drink orders while everyone else went to the top floor balcony.

Given the hour, the balcony was empty.

Adler breathed a sigh of relief. “Not sure what we would have done if there were people up here,” he said. “We’re about to pull out guns and look incredibly suspicious.”

“I have nice tits,” Rinnie said. “I would have made it not a problem.”

.

📞CARE📞

“So back to you calling this client,” Killian said. “Why does he care so much about getting you into Himmelmauer?”

“Because he wants me on some secret project of his that he never told me what it was about. And even if he has found a passible replacement, he sought me out specifically in the beginning, so he’d make room on the team for me if I so much as expressed interest.”

Killian cocked his head to one side. “You would put yourself on an unspecified mission team just to get us into Himmelmauer? When did you get so selfless?”

Rinnie snorted. “Please. I can talk circles around him in my sleep. I just need to tell him I’ll consider his offer more seriously if he helps me and my friends into the city without a fuss.”

.

💋LIPS💋

Rinnie pursed her lips. “I don’t think so. Knowing what I know happened in Berthingtonn, I don’t think that’s what’s going on here.”

“Plus, it’s not like us giving accounts of the Nidtrins is going to reveal to them stuff they don’t already know,” Riela said. “They’ll just burn the information so no one else sees it.”

“My desire to get this written is fighting with the knowledge that I need to make this legible to people other than me,” Rinnie said.

Kanjo chuckled.

“Poor time to make a doctor comment?” Killian asked.

“You can’t make one that I haven’t heard before,” Rinnie replied. “Especially when it comes to handwriting. Yes, I have my MD, I even have a doctorate outside the medical field. I have earned my messy handwriting but I’m also a politician…”

.

💥SIDEWAYS💥

“You all have conditional liberty this afternoon,” Killian said. “For those of you who live in Himmelmauer, go see your families and tell them to maybe skip town for the next couple of weeks.”

“Wait, what the fuck?” Rinnie muttered.

“If the house politics go sideways,” Aravae said coming up behind them. “This could very well be the start of Civil War.”

“You sound so calm about that,” Ciara tutted.

[boreal-sea]

Look maybe it's just me but I thought we went over this years ago:

Please do not use small fonts in gif sets. Please do not use small fonts on your blog theme. Please do not do whatever it is you're doing to your text posts to make the font smaller than normal.

People with visual disabilities exist. People for whom eyestrain can cause migraines exist.

I want to be able to browse Tumblr without squinting, leaning into my monitor, and causing myself a headache.

I'd say that doing this in gifsets or images is the worst, because at least if it's a small font, I can hit ctrl + to zoom the page and the text will enlarge responsively and legibly. But the text in your gifset is rasterized, meaning it's pixels now, and those don't enlarge well - they just become more pixelated. Plus it's text over a moving image, which reduces legibility.

If you need some kind of guideline, for most fonts, please don't use anything smaller than 11pt. 12pt is better.

[itsbenedict]

Two-Faced Jewel: New game system

After getting particularly frustrated with a few bogged-down combats during the vampire resort dungeon, we eventually decided: D&D wasn't the system for us. Rather than shop around for a new fantasy RPG, though, I just decided to indulge in our group's common hobby and... come up with a game system from scratch, tailored to meet the needs of the game as it was being played.

The main functionality I wanted the system to have:

Continuous advancement, so it's easy to give the players rewards as the game progresses

Combat optimized for speed while retaining meaningful battlefield tactics

Rules for social encounters that are largely optional and interface smoothly with and enhance freeform roleplaying

Here's what I came up with to address each of these criteria:

Rolls and stats

To address the first point, I decided to have the basic roll for the game be 2d20, using PBTA-ish move resolution mechanics with much bigger numbers than usual. With bigger numbers on the rolls, it's a lot easier to hand out stat increases and situational bonuses that can accurately represent big and small advantages while overall reducing variance. With 2d6, even a +1 to something is a huge shift to the likely outcomes, so you have to be really precious about your balance and avoid throwing plusses and minuses around willy-nilly. With 2d20, I can be a little more loose with handing out character advancement even in sessions where not much happens.

A roll in this system is 2d20 plus some stat or combination of stats. The outcome table generally looks like this:

10 or less: You fail at the thing.

11-20: You fail at the thing, but get some tangential benefit from the attempt.

21-30: You succeed at the thing, but suffer some complication.

31+: You succeed at the thing.

Additionally, since we have d20s and crits are fun, a 1 or a 20 on either die amplifies the negative side of the roll or the positive side of the roll respectively. Double 1s is a catastrophe that totally upends the situation, and double 20s is a spectacular success beyond what ought to be possible. 20 and 1 will generally cause some sort of chaos. Plus, we've got a Luck and Karma system for when players really need a roll to succeed and are willing to pay a price.

(We're about to trial an adjustment to this where we reduce all the stats by 1 and make the thresholds 9-, 10-19, 20-29, and 30+ just for legibility. Probably should've started that way.)

Speaking of stats- the core stats are:

Strength, which is attack strongness and muscle and is basically everyone's dump stat in this game since we don't do a ton of combat

Stamina, which affects max HP and other Constitution type stuff, general endurance and grit

Speed, which encompasses dexterity and is used for stealth and dodging

Cunning, which you'll notice I relabeled Smarts on the character cards because I realized every other stat started with S and I almost had a pattern

and Speech, which is social expression and insight.

On top of that, most players have a sixth stat for something unique about them- Looseleaf's spirit magic, Saelhen's evil magic bracer, Orluthe's cleric abilities, Oyobi's total lack of wilderness survival skills. It started with just the one, but since then we haven't been shy about tacking on new stats as players encounter new magic abilities they're unfamiliar with. Everyone's got at least eight stats, at this point.

Notably: unless it's tied to an ability that depends on it, we don't have stats for knowledge types. Originally I wanted to go all-out with knowledge stats and different types of perception, but what's actually way easier is: if you, the GM, want the players to know something, Just Tell Them, and if you don't, then don't. NPC party members are a great excuse to have someone notice a thing that the party wasn't trying to notice, if you needed that to happen!

Advancement is something we're still trying to figure out. Originally I had a big list of things where it was like... okay, end of session you pick one stat to advance, but it can't just be any stat. If you fulfill one of these Strength conditions, like doing strenuous physical exercise or hitting someone in a fight, you're eligible to up Strength at end of session. In practice though, that sort of forced minmaxing in Speech and Cunning since most sessions were just roleplay, and sometimes no conditions were being fulfilled at all. So we switched to "okay, to be eligible for a stat, you need to decide during play to give yourself -10 on a roll for that stat", but that had similar problems re:uneven advancement based on who rolled what and when. We still don't have anything that really works well.

Combat

There's two main things that exist to streamline combat: one is, the map is zone-based, where you're either in the same zone as an opponent or you're not. The move action, which just costs 1/3 AP unless there's a specific obstacle you need to roll to circumvent, moves you from one zone to any other known unobstructed zone, or create a new one if you go somewhere not accounted for in the map. Ranged attacks can hit stuff not in your zone, melee attacks you need to be in the zone for. No fussing around with movement ranges or AoO, no breaking down how to get from point A to point B- either you can Just Go There or you need to bypass an obstacle first. Saves so much time.

But you know what saves even more time?

You don't make attack rolls. You have one or more Basic Attacks, which are just... you have a weapon, or some spell you're practiced with, and on your turn if all you want to do is Use Weapon On Badguy, then you just spend 2/3 AP and do that, and inflict the damage your attack does on the enemy you're attacking. There's no tension in deciding whether or not you succeed at Hit Goblin With Sword, a thing you've done a hundred times before. If you don't know what you want to do with your turn in combat, you can almost always just spend 3/3 AP to take the default action of Walk Up To Enemy And Hit Them.

There are exceptions, though- two of them. The exceptions are Armor and Evasive, which represent enemies where doing damage just by hitting them is actually in question. Armor is flat damage reduction, and while you're free to hit an armored enemy for not-as-much-damage normally, you can opt to take a risk and make a roll to Smash Through or Find A Weak Point, rolling dice to risk failure to gain extra damage. Evasive X enemies you need to roll Hit Home (2d20 + Speed - X) to land a hit on, or find a way to temporarily neutralize their evasion. Players can also take the Dodge action to temporarily give themselves Evasive [Speed] for the next attack. This gives me a way to represent armored knights or zippy flying enemies when necessary, while keeping combat fast by default.

Players have various skills and extra moves they can do besides Basic Attacks and the optional modifier rolls, and those form the backbone of the strategic depth. Ways to buff themselves, place obstacles and cover on the field, support their allies, or mess with the action economy. These are all custom-built for each PC and often require rolls, which requires some trust in the GM to balance.

Social Encounters

These form the bulk of play sessions in this game, just by dint of what the players tend to like to do. And... most of the time, there's no special rules for these. The only interface with the rules here is that you've got a few special moves for when you want to use your stats to get an edge.

Through Your Teeth is the lying move, which adds Cunning and Speech minus a penalty for the plausibility of your lie and the target's relative savvy. Oftentimes I just don't even require a roll here- I tend to only bring it up when the player is saying something that actually does have some kind of inconsistency with the target's observed reality, which they need to be careful to conceal.

Something's Fishy is the opposite, which just rolls raw Cunning to try and make the equivalent of an Insight check. The thing I love about this is that I will never ask the players to roll Something's Fishy. But! You can roll it whenever you want, on any social interaction, to check if someone's lying to you, with no penalty even on a full fail. The best times are when you have an NPC lie and the player doesn't even think to check. Always delicious.

Find the Right Words is the equivalent of a persuasion check, but I hate when the dice say that something has succeeded at persuading someone or failed to persuade someone irrespective of the words that actually got said, thanks to nebulous Charisma. Instead, the player rolls this before attempting to persuade someone. I'll paste the whole outcome table here:

10-: You don’t really have a read on them, and they might perceive that you’re being a little manipulative here.

11-20: You’re not sure exactly what they do want to hear from you, but you do know what they don’t want to hear, to avoid the worst outcome.

21-30: You pick up on some hint towards their motivations and goals for the interaction.

31+: You’re pretty sure you can read them like a book, and you’re told more or less exactly what it is they want to hear, modulo deliberately hidden intentions.

It's more people-reading than persuasion- ultimately, it's up to the player to say the words that will persuade the target. Rolling just gives them a chance to pick up on things that they might not have figured out just from play, and give them an edge in the interaction. It's also a great opportunity to drop nuggets of characterization that wouldn't necessarily come across just in dialogue.

-

That's pretty much all there is to it, minus the details of some boring functional Basic Moves, advancement triggers, and combat keywords. If you're interested in those details, you can check out the google doc here.

[swedebeast]

Solle Campaign 2: A Game of Mutants & Misfits

After a hiatus for the holidays, the group is back together. Most of them anyway, but enough to play out some roleplay-heavy session of checking with faction leaders if they will agree to talk to each other, because they won’t talk to each other.

Hate-Johnny’s rampage got everyone spooked, and the players continued to check with the clan leaders beyond Clan Brown, the horse mutants. So far they talked to all the clans, including the pure humans Reggár which descended from a military unit, Clan Klonker which is a group of tech obsesses animal mutants with red robes, keeping the water plant running, and most of the members are beavers. Then we also have Clan Aar, mutated humans with tabs on most businesses led by an old man that knows many secrets, Clan Primo that runs the local brewery, Clan Russmå that is an alliance of outcast pure humans and psionics that have a massive business that makes construction material, Clan Raver which are all rats that were forced to do nothing but farming 60 years ago after starting a massive “Clan War” - and lost. And, lastly, Clan Grayskulls, the resident affiliation of psionics - human and animal - which think very highly of themselves.

Each clan more or less had their own stipulation to even begin talks to coordinate a defence, but I will have to think of an interesting thing to happen because the pure humans -refused- any talks if there’s any mind-readers present. And the players admit they forgot to mention that to the Grayskulls. And Reggár and Brown are in a vicious feud at the moment. So, yay.

They found some treasure maps from old drunks, and someone tried to read their minds a couple times. And there was no need for me to feel like saying “no” to any suggestion or add a complication or negative event tied to anything they did in some form of “well, if you did this, you neglected that, that will come and haunt you” which I had plans for - but these players did a good job or making me feel like there was no sense in making their lives harder.

Though, the above-mentioned thing with the mind-reading will cause tension. Just how tense it will be - unless the players address it - will be up for debate.

And, of course, the treasure maps are all shit, but the players thought of good solutions to make it more legible. And I always wanted to add “ruined air-craft/transport choppers” in the woods with all kinds of clues to the chaos of the Catastrophe, plus some loot goodies to make the dangers of venturing out into a thick and wild forest in the post-apocalypse.

Good times.

[kxlinthesky]

EPISODE 3 LIGHT NOVEL Chapter 2-6 English Translation

The police were ready and waiting at the station when the train arrived that morning. Hude Lou had apparently send a notice to them as well, so they knew something must have happened on board. They were not, however, expecting to see the train roll up with the back ends of the deluxe and second-class carriages battered and singed and the last carriage completely missing, and they fell into a frenzy as they tried to figure out just what on Earth had happened.

Mastema took it upon himself to explain the situation to the gathered police officers, and they really had no choice but to believe what a prominent politician like him said. They’d come to arrest a thief, but the one they ended up arresting was Michelle for the murder of Dr. Johnny. Some officers carried his body away, as well as transported a now-comatose Marie to a nearby hospital. They’d wanted to question her as well about what had happened given her close ties to the case, but as it stood no one knew when she’d regain consciousness.

And as the son of the murderer and another person heavily involved in the case, the police naturally tried to take Low in, too, but his Possession was too powerful for them, and he was instead handed off to the church. With lifeless, almost doll-like eyes, the boy was led into a horse-drawn carriage by Mastema, and Owl saw them off with mixed feelings brewing in his heart.

 Owl’s group of four absentmindedly watched the police scramble around. The reality of the situation, everything they’d felt that had gotten them through the night, hadn’t yet sunk in for any of them. None of them had needed to be questioned by the police thanks to Mastema’s excellent explanation, though no one knew why he’d done that for them. They were all gathered near the carriage waiting to whisk Owl and Ellie away to the McCreech estate.

“Clemens, Elnora, you guys were headed for the church, right? Want us to come with you partway?” Owl asked.

“No, that’s fine, we made our own arrangements,” Elnora replied. “More importantly, what’ve you been looking at?”

She was referring to a bundle of papers in Owl’s hands that he definitely didn’t have when they’d boarded the train. Owl glanced down at them. “… Johnny’s documents.”

“Documents?”

“Most of them burned up, but some of them were still legible.” Owl fanned them out for everyone to see. The pages were fairly scorched in places, but they were clearly the death certificates from Johnny’s suite, plus some letters and medical charts.

Elnora’s eyes bugged out at the sight. “Whoa, hold on, are you okay taking those with you? Aren’t the police treating the whole deluxe carriage as a crime scene?!”

“They won’t know if you don’t tell them,” Owl brazenly shot back. “Besides, these are mine – they’re a present from Hude Lou.”

“Huh? What’re you saying?”

“When I first investigated Johnny’s room these weren’t in there, but the next time I went in there they were. Hude Lou must’ve left them out for me to see. Ergo, these are mine.”

“… I seriously don’t get you…” mumbled Elnora, shaking her head. She turned her attention to Ellie and instructed her, “Don’t do what he does, okay?”

Ellie nodded… then timidly glanced up at Owl and asked, “Owl, are you mad?”

“Mad? Me? No, why?” Owl tilted his head.

“You seem kind of weird.”

Owl fell silent at that. His gaze slid away for a moment before he murmured pensively, “I really am just a kid, if Ellie can see through me like this.”

“What now?” Elnora tapped her foot, scowling. “If something else happened then hurry up and spit it out. And quit making things so gloomy while you’re at it.”

Owl cast a sharp glance at her out of the corner of his eye, then gave a massive sigh and spread his left hand open. His bare left hand. “I lost one of my gloves. Just one, not both.”

“… You didn’t quite lose it, you burned it,” Clemens pointed out.

“Yeah, I did.” Owl sighed, shaking his hand back and forth. “It’s a shame, too, it was really useful, I liked it a lot….”

“Poor Owl.” Ellie gripped his left hand tight and used her other free hand to carefully pat his shoulder.

The detective’s head drooped from the girl’s consolation. “And even though I went to all the trouble of solving the case… I lost my precious glove, and I’m not even getting paid. I got less than nothing from all this.”

With his head bowed and his shoulders slumped, he was a completely different man from the one who had commanded the battle inside the train. He might be just a teenager, but it was still depressing to see the usually aloof detective so down in the dumps.

Clemens and Elnora didn’t quite know what to do. “Oh man, you don’t have to be so sad about it,” Elnora said as comfortingly as she could. “Look, I can get you a new glove. And by me, I mean Clemens.”

“I’ll what now?” Clemens clearly hadn’t expected her to volunteer his services like that.

“Yeah, who else? You can totally make a glove or two, can’t you?”

“I mean, I could make a normal glove, but –”

“What he said! See, Owl, good for you! You better look forward to it!” Elnora tipped Owl a heavy wink.

But Owl couldn’t look forward to it. He gazed at Clemens through his bangs, shaking his head. “That was a custom glove filled with special chemicals, there’s no way Clemens could make a new one… Tristan had to special order it.”

“I’d figured as much,” said Clemens.

“And if I tried to order a new one, I wouldn’t be able to pay rent,” continued Owl, thoroughly despondent. “Byron would start nagging me again….”

“Rather than get so hung up on the details, you could just take on more requests and earn the extra cash you need to so don’t have to avoid paying rent.”

“I wasn’t avoiding paying rent. I just kept talking my way out of it and putting it off, is all.”

“… Well, everything will work out even if you don’t worry yourself to death over it, right? You’re headed for the McCreech estate now, aren’t you?” Clemens poked Owl’s shoulder, a meaningful smile rising to his face. “Salvation exists in the hearts of those who seek it.”

■■■■■■■■■■

Situated on a small hill overlooking a small forest, the McCreech mansion was a peculiar Victorian Gothic-style affair with a circular window installed into the roof.

A young butler stood before the estate’s gate, gazing down the street-lined path before him. He gave a sigh of relief, pressing a hand to his chest as he did. “Ah, good,” he said. “See, that carriage coming up the lane must be them, Hannah. Owl and Ellie will be arriving shortly. I’m quite glad to see they didn’t get lost.”

It was Ralph standing there, and he was speaking to a maid by his side, presumably Hannah. But she didn’t share his cheeriness – her tone was sullen as she replied, “Ralph, you know I don’t have superhuman vision like you. I can’t see who’s coming from here. Besides, why was Owl even called up at all when the master, a state alchemist, is already here? It’s clearly suspicious.”

Ralph chuckled quietly, unmindful of her prickly attitude. “You say that, but just this morning you borrowed the kitchen to bake scones for him.” He peered at her face as she glanced away with a huff, then delicately sniffed the air. “Yes, I smell fresh scones, clotted cream, raspberry jam – ah, apple jam, too. They’ll have quite the warm welcome waiting for them.”

“Wha – shut up!” Hannah whipped her head around to glare at him, face flushed. “Don’t just smell someone like that, that’s rude! Do you want to be collared?”

“My, how scary.”

Hannah sniffed and turned away again.

“I’m sorry?” offered Ralph. His attempt at a sincere apology was somewhat marred by the smile that refused to drop from his face.

“You two seem like you’re having fun.”

Ralph and Hannah straightened up at the new voice. A tall gentleman was approaching them from the other side of the gate. “Has my son arrived yet?” the man said.

“He will be arriving shortly, Master.”

“Good, I’m looking forward to it.”

Tap-tap-tap went the man’s cane as he steadily strode towards them. His smile was calm and refined, but his gaze was sharp as a knife behind the monocle he wore over his left eye. In fact, the monocle looked rather similar to a certain someone else’s….

“Do you think he’ll be surprised to find out I’m also here?” the gentleman asked cheerfully, his head tilted to listen to the still far-off sound of the carriage wheels clacking across the ground.

“I would imagine so.”

“Do you think I should hug him?” The man spread his arms wide.

“I believe he would not like that.”

“Haha, that’s one of his cute points.”

“I would humbly recommend that you not.”

Ralph and Hannah quietly shook their heads.

Owl and Ellie’s carriage would arrive shortly. The instant they passed through the gate, a new story would begin. Awaiting them inside the halls was a joyous bride, unsightly jealousy, and a tale of blood spanning countless long years, and the young detective would once again be forced to break through the thorns twined tightly around the case.

With a creak, the wheel of fate turned once more.

■■■■■■■■■■

The carriage thundered on, but inside silence reigned.

Mastema’s elbow was pressed to the sill, his chin in his hand, humming a tune to himself. A hymn, maybe, or a psalm. His finger wove through the air like a baton as he quietly sang,

 Our God in Heaven

Our shepherd of love

I am your servant

Who won’t clear away your grief

 “… Ah, what a lovely trip.” Mastema cut himself off to whisper to himself, happy as could be. “I didn’t expect to see a vampire, of all things. And to think there was such a powerful individual still around… quite the unforeseen harvest.” His head tilted to the man sitting opposite him. “Well, then, let’s talk, shall we?”

But the other man was silent. His head hung low, pale blue-gray eyes unseeing and hollow.

It was the man who had gone mad on the train and lost everything, he who had become the guard dog of the underworld, Low.

“… I have nothing to say,” Low eventually murmured. Even the wings of a bug were louder than him.

Strong fingers grabbed at his chin and forcibly pulled his head up to look ahead. “Look at me, mongrel. Don’t turn your eyes from me.”

Mastema’s voice seemed to freeze Low to his very core. The pressure emanating from him… the smiling man could easily crush him to a pulp. Low lost all strength in his body under the weight of his presence. “Wh-What are you….” Wracked with violent shudders, Low clung to the seat of the carriage, almost as if he thought it could protect him.

Seeing the boy shrink from whim like a whipped dog, Mastema’s tone took on a gentler touch. “There’s no need to be frightened, Low. You have been chosen.”

“… Chosen?”

“Oh, yes. What if I told you that unimaginable love existed behind the veil of this world? It sounds wonderful, does it not?”

“Wh-What are you saying…?” gasped Low. The poor boy was stiff as a board.

“You desire orders, do you not? Orders you would stake your life on, orders from an absolute master.”

“Uh….”

“That is your happiness, I wager.”

Hearing it said so plainly, Low couldn’t object. Mastema’s words were spot-on, after all. When Low had taken orders from Marie, he had been happy. Unwaveringly, captivatingly happy. Obedience had been his happiness. Yes, he had certainly been happy, because that’s what he’d craved all along – something absolute that would love him, something he could offer his everything to.

… But he’d lost all of that. He had nothing now. And as he came to terms with that, his spirits sunk once more.

 “I can give that to you,” whispered Mastema.

“Huh…?” Low’s eyes flew wide.

What kind of nonsense…? But when Low tried to voice his incredulity, he once again found himself unable to utter a sound. This person, this existence before him, held power more overwhelming than even Marie’s. His was a higher power that simply could not be defied.

Low understood in that moment… and he nervously nodded to Mastema.

“Do your best to be of use to me, my little mongrel.”

Mastema’s answering smile was a slash across his face. His shoulders shook gently from his quiet chuckling.

“The other world is much more fitting for you…. Welcome, to the jet-black darkness.”

And Mastema began to hum once more.

 Our God in Heaven

Our shepherd of love

I am your lightning

A lance to shatter your sorrow

 A slant of sunlight fell on his profile as he sang his hymn, but his feet, where the light didn’t reach… were impossibly dark. The contrast was stunning, almost like a painting. Low found himself captivated by the sight. Something began to sprout in his chest.

“Ah….”

Yes, something that he thought he had lost after his heart had fallen into the depths of despair.

“By any chance, would the person who would return my love… be you…?”

Mastema’s only reply was a fathomless smile. It pierced Low’s heart like an arrow, and the sprout in his chest bloomed to full life in an instant. Pure delight coursed through his entire being. The boy clung to Mastema’s legs, almost as if driven by instinct. “I will do whatever you command…!” Low pledged to his newfound love.

 He knew nothing of what was to come next.

Fin

original written by Nagaya Kawaji here