#working title is Crane Game

[unnonexistence]

havent been on the computer much all weekend because i've been dealing with some eye strain but i'm experiencing newmann withdrawal so. time to try printing out one of my fics and editing on paper i guess

[luvo27]

what's "eclipse fic seq." about? 👀

hello hello!!! :DDD the eclipse fic sequel!!! the eclipse fic in question is a fic I wrote for the 2024 north american solar eclipse set during stephs robin run where bruce and steph go see the eclipse!!! it's meant to be a Bruce character study into why he fired her and was meant to be more or less canon compliant, not mentioned in anywhere in the fic because i wanted people to have the option of a happy ending, but I knew what I intended it to be and then I reread it and went, oh no, that's way too sad and started planning a sequel as a fix it...of sorts. Plans as of right now is steph pov: Steph gets fired, and as a last hurrah/to make it up to her, Bruce takes her to see the california redwoods. There’s very little written, but here’s how it starts!!

They pull into the way too long driveway for Wayne Manor. Bruce shifts the car into park. Neither of them move. Neither of them say a word. They haven’t spoken in several hours, just driving. Stephanie taps idly at her phone. Her fingers and face still feel sticky from the ice-cream, she thinks there’s melted chocolate on her cheek. She could have asked if Bruce had wipes, or tissues, or something. He probably had some in the car. He definitely had some in the car. She just didn’t ask, and now she’s sitting in his car with several hour old stains on her cheek. She should probably feel more bothered about that. The car idles, engine a comfortable rumble in the background. Next to her, hands still placed on the wheel at perfect ten and two, Bruce clears his throat. “Stephanie,” he says. “Yeah?” she asks. A sped-up version of a song plays briefly through her earbuds as she swipes past a video. “You’re fired.”

[acapelladitty]

`♡° kinktober 2024! ---

☆ kink: predicament bondage

☆ pairing: Karl Heisenberg/Reader

☆ summary: Putting you into a tricky situation, Lord Heisenberg takes advantage of your choices.

kinktober '24 ☆ main masterlist ☆ ao3

"The choice is yours, sweetheart," drawing the last word out with a wolfish grin, Heisenberg remained on his haunches as he crouches before you. "For every candle spilled, not only do you get to feel the scald of the wax, but I'll also add another fresh one to the mix."

On all fours like a dog, your knees and palms press into the cold stone of the factory floor with staunch determination. The game had been his idea and while the terms weren't the most comfortable, the possible reward was delicious as you rolled the image of the new non-metal restraints which he had crafted for himself in your mind.

"Let's set a target of, oh let's say seven minutes," Heisenberg continues, standing to circle your body like a vulture. "If you can survive my play for seven minutes without spilling the three candles then we'll say you've won."

"Okay."

A harsh slap to your ass threatens to spill the first candle and you scowl as your body quickly stiffens to stop the wobble. All three candles are perched precariously on your back, the thick bases giving them enough of a balance to ensure that they wouldn’t fall without sufficient movement, and the slow burn of the wick would only allow the odd droplet to fall down to drip against your unprotected skin.

"Properly, slut."

"Okay, my lord," a title given with a roll of your eyes.

“That’s better,” Heisenberg nodded, standing to his full height as you crane your neck up to meet him. An off-white shirt clings to his chest, the fabric stained from both the oils of the metalwork of his earlier work and also the faintly yellowing marks of his sweat, a constant given the incessant heat of the factory. The sleeves rolled up past his hair-covered forearms, dark pants finish his outfit as his trusty overcoat lays abandoned in another part of the building.

A thick hand pressing on your ass makes your legs spread slightly wider, the stance giving you the best possible chance of keeping the candles still as you focus on maintaining balance. A trickle of wax burns your back at the movement and you sigh at the sensation, heated skin overly sensitive and full of anticipation for what’s to come.

Heisenberg cups your cunt with his palm, the heat of his skin making you shudder and you can feel how easily his skin slides against your own – your arousal coating the skin of his palm despite the fact that he’s barely touched you yet.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he grunts, “can’t even get a good grip of you because you’re so wet.”

Flushing with embarrassment, you don’t answer him and instead gently roll your hips and press your cunt harder into his hand.

A wide thumb pressing against your clit, the skin there calloused and rough, is almost your undoing as the sudden pressure on your throbbing nub sends a wicked bolt of pleasure across your groin.

“Hnng,” you cry out, catching the moan between your lips as you refuse to give him the satisfaction of a proper reaction. Your cunt aches with need and you can imagine how tempting it all looks for him – the spread of your legs allowing him to see just how wet and willing you are and how easily he could take what he wanted.

His fingers thrust with your embarrassingly wet cunt and you tense at how rough his movements are, knowing that he’s attempting to get a rise out of your still body.

“Goddamn! Leaking like a faucet, sweetheart,” Heisenberg comments and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “Might need to craft up a new plug to keep you from dripping around the place like a bitch in heat.”

Shuddering at his words, you feel the heat of a fallen droplet of wax as it drops from the side of the middle candle and rolls across your back before hardening. The discomfort only lasts a moment but with the added sensation of the thick fingers stretching out your cunt it feels more intense and you bite your lip with every curl of his digits against your walls.

But it still isn’t enough to get you to fail as you maintain a desperate stiffness in your spine to keep the candles in place.

“I can feel how tense you are, you struggling already?” Asking the question with faux concern, Heisenberg adds a third finger to your cunt and the stretch takes your breath away for a moment.

“N-no,” you reply, “I’m doing fin-oh my god.”

Interrupting your own answer as his thumb returns to your clit, the sudden burst of intense pleasure makes your body flinch in place and you hiss as a stream of fresh wax falls to burn along your skin. It’s heaven and hell, your body desperate to push back and beg for more while your brain forces it to keep still, thinking of the reward to come.

The cold metal of something round presses at your clit and you sigh at the sensation, the cool material very welcome against your heated, swollen flesh. Rubbing slow circles, Heisenberg ensures that every nerve in your clit knows what’s about to happen and the anticipation of it has your spine locking like steel in preparation. It starts off slow, the hum of the metal vibrating every so slightly as Heisenberg manipulates the material with his abilities, and the gentleness of the sensation against your clit is maddening as you fight the urge to push more roughly against it.

Sensing your need for more, Heisenberg ups the vibrations and you instantly regret your own greed as the vibe teases wicked circles around your clit – the movements very quickly dragging you to the edge of release as you carefully try to keep the rounded edge of it from making direct contact with your nub – knowing that it will force your back to jerk and spill the candles.

“Karl, please,” begging with words which are broken up by messy panting, you pound your fist against the floor as you desperately try to avoid his vibe – a pointless venture as the shifting pressure of the vibrations acts as more of a wicked tease. “You can’t do that, it’s not- ah- it’s not fair.”

“Who said anything about fair, sweetheart?” Openly enjoying himself, Heisenberg is every inch the cat who caught the canary as he holds you at the edge with his relentless teasing, “I’m playing to win, just like you are. So stop bitching.”

“Please! If I come then it's going to ruin everyt-fuck!” Again cut off as he angles the vibe in such a way that it brushes across your swollen clit, you jerk messily and feel one of the candle wobble dangerously as it spills most of its accumulated wax across your back – covering more of the skin with red wax that you know is standing out beautifully against your skin. “Please!”

“No. You wanted to play this game, slut. It was your idea after all,” Heisenberg laughs, a full-bellied chuckle that is as infuriating as it is sexy, “And I am always happy to indulge your nasty little gam-”

A shrill alarm, the volume of it making your flinch in surprise, rings out across the room to announce that the seven minutes is up and a vicious squeal of metal puts an end to the noise as Heisenberg growls and crushes the alarm with his powers.

Your cunt still twitching and dripping with need, you can’t help the grin that splits your lips as you realise that you have won the bet.

It was almost worth all the teasing.

“I won, handsome,” you announce, dropping your head to place your warm cheek against the cool floor as you wriggle your body with a teasing gentleness. “So, I guess the big bad metal man is getting tied up and fucked the way that I want.”

Humming as he returns his thumb to your clit and strokes slow circles around it while you grunt at the resuming attention, Heisenberg plunges two fingers back into your soaked cunt.

“Sure sounds like I lost,” he says and you can hear the sarcasm in his tone, “but I don’t think the game needs to be over just because the timer went off.”

And with that, his arm locks roughly around your hips, pinning you in place with his inhumane strength and knocking over two of the candles – the sudden burn of the wax as it spread across your back making you gasp in surprise before dissolving into a discomforting groan. A high-pitched humming noise is the only warning you get of the vibe before the head of it is pressing harshly against your sensitive clit and the intense, almost painful, burst of overstimulation makes you cry out and pound your fists against the floor.

Your brain short-circuits in an instant and you understand that Heisenberg plans on taking out his loss on your poor, twitching cunt until your legs are jellied enough that you won’t be able to support yourself. As though hearing your thoughts, Heisenberg laughs once more as he tightens his grip even more and holds your bucking frame in place as he continues to torment your poor overstimulated clit.

[pumpkinstrawbrew]

masked x unmasked *part 1*

...

(why yes, shall i get more an' more ambitious in well, uh limitation of my current skillset, but still. more kissing! drawing them kissing gives me life *esp now, when i've got hella sick again lol* if i’ll draw them smooching 100 times, i will prob reach immortality. ooor i will be able to have this engraved on my headstone. one or the other!

but welp, as the title suggests, this collage focused on a scenario, where crane isn’t the scarecrow just yet. i believe, i mentioned that AU-ish idea in another drawing before. but this one, specifically depicting the comicverse scarebat. with this being said, this still implies that jonathan caused bo to crash the car. an’ that he most likely did smth to his predecessor *he didn’t murder him tho*, when it comes to his position as professor, an’ he still has fascination with fear, but it’s way more tame, than what kind of stuff he typically does in canon. it’s a slow-burnish corruption for him. but yeah, he will eventually become the scarecrow, anyways. but for now, he’s jonathan crane. an unlikely ally of the gotham’s new, mysterious vigilante. each art addresses different stages / moments of their relationships. starting from batman’s ambiguous, slightly intimidating flirting an’ ending up with jon getting bold enough to return his affection an’ even be the one, who initiates it. i suppose, it took him a while to realize, that this isn't some cruel joke at his expense or anything.

an' since this is comicverse, i kinda wanted this arts set to look a bit comic book-y too. as if looking at an old comic book page or smth along those lines. the final result, prob doesn't give off that vibe, but i still like how it turned out. as essentially, this art is one of those works that have around 4 different versions of it. an’ i just posting the ones, which look the most 'interesting'. but since filter did obscuring some lil details, here is a recollection of jonathan blushing throughout the whole thing.

i wasn’t able to keep this feature in the posted version, since it ended up looking kinda odd. but in case, someone might have wanted to see this, here it is.

aside from that, i think that in this set, the arts themselves are pretty straightforward, an’ more focused on the action aspect vs specific set up, aside from AU-ish frame. but i do imagine, that in the top right artwork *the one, where bruce is maskless*, while jon’s glasses make it hard to tell where he’s looking or not, his eyes are actually closed, since it’s the only condition in which bruce will openly reveal his identity to him. i also imagine, that since jonathan’s eyesight is pretty poor, sometimes, he might just take off his glasses an’ see bruce as a blurry shadow, but at least, still have some things to go from. like the fact, that bruce’s eye color is blue an’ he’s a brunette. it's their lil trust game, an' despite being curious, crane is too scared to screw this up just bc he wants to see his lover's face. not to mention, that typically jonathan not super obsessed an’ sometimes literally doesn’t care too much about batman’s everyday persona, since it doesn’t change much for him. whoever batman is, he’s the exact same man for him, inside the cowl or without it.

an’ oh yeah, it's indeed part 1. since i have sketched the set up, where bruce aren’t batman *bc his parents had never died in that universe* but jon is still the scarecrow, the notorious criminal. it doesn’t seem to deter wayne’s heir, who flirts with him for some reason tho.

p.s the most top left art used to be this .)

[thepiedcurrawong]

WELCOME TO THE MINDFUCK

Here's a new intro post!

last updated 17/04/2025

IMPORTANT POST

BASIC INFORMATION

I live in AEDT/AEST, so click here to see my time.

Am 17! Minor! I've had so many "MDNI" blogs follow me its acually weird. Like fellas i have IT WRITTEN I AM A MINOR!!! dude it actually pisses me off if you're gonna have a dni make sure YOU YOURSELF can follow it!?!!??! like cmon??? you cant expect other people to enforce your restrictions that you have placed on yourself. If i have to go tell someone who is following me that i am indeed a minor then like. dude. cmon.

I am bisexual(1) and panromantic. I am also a trans girl. My pronouns are she/her.

I love DMs! I love social interaction! Please, if you think I'm cool, DM me! I love talking to people!!

Dividers used made by @enchanthings-a and can be found here

Further elaboration below the cut.

COMPLEX INFORMATION

I live in Australia. My favourite drink is coffee, followed shortly by Schweppes Agrum Blood Orange, caramel milkshakes, apple juice, and the blood of my enemies.

You may call me A.V., as those are my initials. If we're mooties I'll probably tell you my name.

I’M ON ESTROGEN, BITCHES! >:3

My singing range is around E2-A5.

I won't reblog reblog bait. Just know that yes, this blog is a safe place for everyone unless you don't tolerate other people, in which case you violate the social contract of tolerance and are as such not included in said contract.

I have many plushies. DM me if you want to know their lore.

I will probably use all slurs that apply to me (faggot, tranny, dyke).

I will probably flirt with you.

I love media piracy.

I FUCKING LOVE BIRDS. My favourite ones are the Australian Magpie, Aussie Raven, and of course, Pied Currawongs.

I have no DNI because they don't really work anyway.

I would totally fuck the xenomorph.

I have multiple sideblogs, DM me if you want to know them :3

I love yo-yos. I'm not good at it but I'm tryning ok just gimmie a minute here

My tags

A number of these I haven't used in a while, and most I just forget.

#av-og for when i write things.

#av-media for posts relating to media I like

#av-dark for DarK related stuff

#av-dune for Dune related posts

#av-silly for silly stuff

#av-rb for reblogs

#av-trans for stuff relating to being trans

#av-hrt for matter specifically regarding me having estrogen

#av-space for SPACE SPACE SPACE SPACE

#av-lore for mostly plushie lore but maybe some amy lore too if i decide to do jazz

MEDIA I'M A FAN OF (BIG LIST SORRY)

BOOKS

Holes

No Country For Old Men

Dune

The Hunger Games series

The Three-Body Problem trilogy

The Martian

House of Leaves

FILMS

Dune

The Princess Bride

Pirates of the Caribbean

The Black Phone

Jaws

Klaus

The Batman

Hunt for the Wilderpeople

The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar

TELEVISION

Test Patterns

Dark (2017)

A Series of Unfortunate Events

Stranger Things (only season 1 though) (3)

The Owl House

The Sandman

Alice in Borderland

Good Omens

Breaking Bad

Squid Game (4)

MUSIC

The Crane Wives

Will Wood & The Tapeworms

Sarah and the Safe Word

Vundabar

Lena Raine

The Heavy

The Black Keys

JCS

VIDEO GAMES

Fields of Mistria

Stardew Valley

Project Zomboid

Minecraft

Minecraft: Story Mode

Subnautica

Terraria

Celeste

Team Fortress 2

Bopl Battle

Pressure

OTHER

The Magnus Archives/The Magnus Protocol

Technoblade

Chainmail Chasers

Colinlock16 continuity

This Man

Jesus Christ: Superstar

Ending notes

Don't kill yourself, please.

The title is a reference to Mind Brand.

have this as a gift for reading the whole thing

[bluelavendre]

Title: "Gummy Smile and Forever After"

!DISCLAIMER!

Shortfic😔

Cute suga

Don't get me wrong I love this man!!

I wrote this years ago btw💜💜

Fandom: BTS

Pairing: Suga (Min Yoongi) x reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff

It was late at night in BTS’s dorm, and the members were scattered around the living room. Jungkook was engrossed in a video game, Jin was flipping through a recipe book, and Taehyung was scrolling through his phone. But Yoongi? Yoongi sat in the corner of the couch, his laptop perched on his knees. His headphones were plugged in, and a faint smile tugged at his lips as he watched a performance for what had to be the fiftieth time.

The screen glowed with the sight of you—Y/N, the internationally acclaimed idol whose every move on stage sent waves through the industry. Tonight’s video was of your recent comeback stage, a performance filled with power and grace. Yoongi couldn’t help but admire the way you commanded the crowd, how every note you sang seemed to come straight from your soul.

“Hyung, seriously?” Jungkook said, craning his neck to peek at the screen. “That’s the fourth time this week.”

Yoongi hastily slammed his laptop shut, the tips of his ears turning red. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t act coy,” Jin chimed in, abandoning his book to join the fun. “You’ve been obsessing over her ever since her debut. Just admit you’re her biggest fan.”

The others joined in, laughing and poking fun at Yoongi. Even Namjoon, who usually kept to himself, smirked. “Hyung, maybe you should just shoot your shot. You’ve got nothing to lose, right?”

Yoongi scoffed, waving them off, but the blush on his cheeks deepened.

Months later, BTS attended the Grammy Awards, where they were up for multiple nominations. The group was in high spirits as they walked the red carpet and faced a flurry of interviews. One interviewer leaned in with a mischievous grin.

“So, Yoongi-ssi,” she began, “the fans have noticed you’ve been watching a certain someone’s videos a lot lately. Care to share who your current favorite artist is?”

The members exchanged glances, grinning like hyenas. Taehyung nudged Yoongi with his elbow, and Jungkook let out an exaggerated cough.

“Uh…” Yoongi hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I think Y/N is incredibly talented. She works really hard, and it shows in everything she does.”

The interviewer’s eyes lit up. “Oh, really? Any chance we’ll see a collaboration in the future?”

Yoongi chuckled nervously. “Maybe. If she’s interested.”

Backstage, the teasing began immediately. “You practically confessed on live television!” Jimin exclaimed, clutching his sides.

“I didn’t confess,” Yoongi grumbled, though the small smile on his face said otherwise.

The first time you met was during a music show. BTS and your group had been scheduled to perform, and the backstage area buzzed with activity. Yoongi was usually the calmest member in any situation, but when you walked into the green room, he froze.

“Hyung, don’t just sit there,” Jungkook whispered, nudging him forward.

You approached with a warm smile, bowing politely. “Annyeonghaseyo, Min Yoongi-ssi. It’s an honor to meet you. I’m a big fan of your work.”

Yoongi stood up, bowing deeply. “Annyeonghaseyo, Y/N-ssi. The honor’s mine. I really admire what you do.”

The other members watched from the sidelines, trying not to burst out laughing at how uncharacteristically shy Yoongi was being.

“You should’ve seen his face when he saw your performance,” Jin added cheekily. “He couldn’t stop smiling.”

“Hyung!” Yoongi hissed, glaring at Jin, but you only laughed, your eyes sparkling.

During an award show later that year, you performed your latest hit, and Yoongi was in the audience. As always, his gaze was glued to the stage, his gummy smile making a rare and endearing appearance. The camera panned to him at just the right moment, and fans went wild when the clip surfaced online.

The MC couldn’t resist bringing it up later. “Yoongi-ssi, you seemed to enjoy Y/N’s performance. Care to share your thoughts?”

Yoongi’s face turned red as the audience roared with laughter. “She’s… very talented,” he managed, his voice barely audible over the teasing remarks from his members.

Years passed, and BTS continued to dominate the global music scene. But amidst their packed schedules, Yoongi and Y/N’s paths crossed more and more frequently. What started as admiration blossomed into friendship, and eventually, something more.

The world erupted in excitement when news broke that the two of you were dating. Fans were overjoyed, and your relationship quickly became one of the most talked-about topics in the industry. But despite the attention, you and Yoongi kept things private, cherishing the moments you could spend together away from the cameras.

One quiet evening, years after your relationship began, Yoongi made an announcement during a live broadcast. The BTS members sat around him, their expressions a mix of excitement and pride.

“I think it’s time we share some personal news,” Yoongi said, his voice steady but soft. “I’m married. And yes, it’s Y/N.”

The chat exploded with messages of congratulations as Yoongi held up a photo of the two of you on your wedding day. “We’ve been married for a while now, actually. And we also have a family.”

Jungkook leaned into the frame, grinning. “And he’s the best dad ever.”

Yoongi smiled, his gummy grin as radiant as ever. “I still can’t believe I get to spend my life with her. She’s everything I ever dreamed of and more.”

As the live broadcast ended, fans around the world celebrated the love story they’d all watched unfold. And for Yoongi, every day with you was another reason to smile—the kind of smile that only you could bring out.

The End

[aurescentia]

okay. i'll byte. - pt. 2

part 1 || ao3 link

now with a title, hot dog. ao3 link 4 fun, i'll prolly end up posting everything there in one fic.

Thinking more Thoughts about game dev Eddie (unintentionally) making Steve/not-Steve the protagonist of his game.

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3 months earlier

“You guys wanna see what I've been working on?” Eddie asks, a glint in his eye that can only spell shit like mischief and intrigue ahead.

Lucas looks over to Dustin, Mike, and Will, like– of course they do. Obviously.

Any time Eddie hits them with that question, it's only ever garnered great things.

Shit like complex campaign ideas, intricately painted miniatures, charcoal sketches that went H.R. Giger hard, even music – Lucas doesn't understand how someone as all over the place as Eddie can dabble in something and just... nail it, every time.

They've long since learned to wait for Eddie to come to them, offering a glimpse of whatever he's been working on, like he's offering back-alley drugs in a trench coat, reeling them in.

He gets all itchy and evasive and makes this face whenever they try prying before he's ready. Which– is kind of fun, in its own right.

But Lucas is more patient than Dustin or Mike. He likes when Eddie offers up some new treasure, some new insight into the turning gears in his peculiar mind. Like he's pulling back the curtain, showing them some big, unimaginable secret.

Makes Lucas feel like he's part of the in-joke, a member of a club. Like they all are, together.

Without another word, Eddie takes them into his office, which is really just a gutted walk-in closet, but whatever. Usually, when they're over for Hellfire, it's either switched from his WFH set-up, playing ambient tavern music to set the mood, or powered down.

Now, he's got– Well, he's got a lot going on across all three monitors. GameMaker's running on the primary screen, and that's what Eddie focuses on as soon as he settles into his chair, the rest of them crowding in behind him with their elbows jostling each other for a better view.

“You finally working on some stuff outside of work?” Dustin asks, craning his neck so he's hovering just over Eddie's shoulder, trying to track his cursor movements on the screen.

“I keep telling you, man – what's the point of having all this insider knowledge of 'how to make a game' if you never actually sit down and 'make the game.'“

“Yeah, you keep teasing us with all these ideas or 'concepts' or whatever, and then you never show us anything! So, what kind of game is it? How long have you been –?”

Mike's question gets cut off as Will shoots him a look, raising his eyebrows and nodding to Eddie like– just wait.

Eddie clicks through a few more tabs, ignoring their impatient queries in a way that only adds to the anticipation of it all. Satisfied, he hits F5 and all chatter stops.

Something's booting up, Eddie hits the full screen icon just as the loading music begins. It's unmistakably Eddie's; Lucas would recognize it anywhere. Dark and thrumming but with a sort of tongue-in-cheek flavor that, again, he has no idea how he pulls off.

And then it's... a game. Like– a whole, playable game. Not just broken bits of unconnected levels in different rooms; it's a completely functioning game.

Eddie doesn't even try to explain himself or what's going on – he just starts playing from where he last left off. The character has his back to them as he fights horde after horde of (surprisingly gross, for something with so few pixels) enemies.

All of them stand there in shocked silence as Eddie muscle memory's his way through the rest of the level, completing the final boss with an efficiency that leaves Dustin, Will, and Mike fish-mouth gaping at him. If he could see his face, it'd probably be an exact mirror of their expressions.

“Holy shit,” Lucas hears himself breathe, breaking the awes silence, unable to tear his eyes away from the screen as Eddie unceremoniously moves on to the next level.

But it's like his words break the veil of wonder covering the four of them, spurring the rest into motion.

“Eddie, what the fuck??”

“You made a game? Like, a whole game?”

“Dude! How long have you been sitting on this??”

Eddie only looks away from the monitor when he gets sideswiped by a scurrying blob of an enemy, letting the death animation and screen go unseen behind him.

He's smiling, surprisingly sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I wanted to wait to show y'all. Make it worth the wait,” he says, not quite looking at any one of them directly.

“And, well… now I guess I have to show you because I've got another surprise. And maybe an ask from you guys.”

“Dude,” Dustin says, which seems to answer in the all-of-the-above, go on realm.

Eddie drums his fingers on his knee, eyes searching the ceiling as his mouth works, trying to find the right words.

“There is a hypothetical world where I may – possibly, perhaps – have been talking to a hypothetical publisher,” he begins, and Lucas feels his heart stutter in his chest.

“And in this incredibly hypothetical world where this publisher agreed to speak with me, I may have been asked to... submit a little something for them to review.”

“Hypothetically,” Eddie adds again for emphasis, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

There’s a momentary pause while the four of them process this information before they erupt in noise, Will cheering, Mike rattling off a list of questions while Dustin shakes him, loud in their excitement.

“Holy shit, Eddie, this is awesome!”

“– so cool, dude –”

And: “How long have you been working on this? Can you show me how you programmed everything?” from Dustin.

Lucas offers Eddie a congenial smile, kicking his shoe lightly in quiet congratulations under the thrum of noise from the others.

“Wait, what’s the second thing? The ask from us?” Dustin asks, interrupting himself when he stops shaking Eddie for a moment.

“Oh, sure, yeah,” Eddie says, brushing Dustin off him so he can turn back to the monitor.

Lucas watches him exit the game as he begins clicking through a few tabs on the left-hand side of GameMaker.

“I wanted to see if you guys wanted to playtest it before I send it off. I could give you a bit of cash in exchange, since I’d need, like, actual feedback and notes for a couple of months.”

“I know you guys have midterms coming up, so no stress if that’s not something you’d be interested in or if you’d want –”

“Uh, yeah. Obviously, I’m in,” Dustin says, rolling his eyes.

Eddie side-eyes him from over his shoulder, skeptical. Catches the look on everyone’s faces and strains to face them.

“I’m serious. It’s a big ask. It’d be a serious labor of love, getting me good notes.”

Mike mutters something about Eddie, in general, being a serious labor of love, but Lucas just kicks at his shins, nodding at Eddie. Lucas didn’t need to think twice about it.

Midterms or not, this was exactly the reason he loved being friends with these dudes. Comradery, community – a chance for five weirdos from all walks of life to be on the same wavelength, even if just for a short while.

That, and he really wanted to play this fucking game.

“Alright then,” Eddie says, turning back to the monitor to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Let’s get you boys a link.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“So, Eddie’s character is just Steve, right?”

“Oh yeah. One hundred percent,” Lucas says, laughing as Mike opens the game link Eddie sent them.

They’re back in Lucas and Mike’s dorm, waiting for a pizza while the game sits idling on the splash screen, ready for them to play.

“Holy shit, I thought I was going crazy,” Will sighs in obvious relief, combing his fingers through his hair. “It looks exactly like him.”

There’s a buzz in Lucas’ front pocket, and he frowns as he pulls out his phone. Speak of the devil.

          steve hair: 🏀🏀🏀 tomorrow

There’s no punctuation, but Lucas hears the question anyway. He’s halfway to texting back when he gets the signature Steve Double-Text.

          steve hair: i can grab you

          Lucas: sure. 8?       

          steve hair: 👍👍👍

          steve hair: see you then

Lucas pockets his phone and looks back up at the monitor. Mike, as Severian – Steve – is trudging through the intro of the game, clawing his way out of dirt and debris onto the wasteland where most of the game takes place.

“Are we going to tell him?”

“Who, Steve or Eddie?” Lucas asks, glancing between Dustin and Will.

“Either, I guess,” Will says, shrugging.

And Lucas is grateful when Dustin speaks for them, because he honestly doesn’t know how to answer that one.

“Nah. Clearly Eddie didn’t realize what he was doing when he made this guy, and it’s not like Steve will ever play this,” he says, cracking open a soda, blindly handing it to Mike.

“And Eddie would die if he knew. Let’s just let well enough alone.”

Mike takes a drink and burps, loud. Dustin high-fives him while Lucas and Will exchange exasperated looks. He wonders, not for the first time, how someone as nice and polite as Nancy Wheeler could have come from the same home as this sicko.

“Alright. No telling them. Got it,” Mike agrees, setting his drink down and settling into the game for real. “But I reserve the right to blackmail Eddie with this at a later time, if need be.”

Everyone sounds their approval, like that should be obvious.

“And we’re calling him Steve, right?” Lucas asks, nodding toward the character.

“Absolutely.”

“Sick,” Lucas laughs, letting his knee knock playfully into Mike’s, once again happy just to exist on the same wavelength.

“Alright, let’s see how many times you can kill Steve in one night.”

[threewaywithdelusion]

KJ Charles Fics People Should Write

Susan bringing Cara home to meet her Guvnors (and Emma). Justin and Nathaniel only know that this is her first serious lover since James Vane (and the only one she’s brought home to meet them). They’re expecting someone vaguely respectable, who maybe owns a business or has a trade. Cue their surprise and horror when they realize she’s finally over the Marquess’s nephew only to bring home a Duke’s daughter. Bonus points if Sukey never bothered mentioning she’s into women

Esther Gold’s pov before and through A Case of Possession, when she’s worried Stephen Day is turning warlock. She testifies before the Justiciary that he’s not, but she’s terrified that she doesn’t know her partner. Where is he getting such power? And then her pov on the scene where they heal Leonora using Crane’s blood and the fight that happens after

Anything that takes advantage of the fact that Society of Gentlemen, Sins of the Cities, and The Lilywhite Boys are set in the same universe. Pen Starling working with Miss Cristiana at the music hall. Greta using her titles as Countess of Moreton to do chaotic-good shit. Greta and Pen swapping places so Greta can swing on the trapeze again (with potential shenanigans as Pen plays Greta for the day). Normal, boring Tim ending up at family events with Jerry Crozier and trying to make polite conversation.

Silas and the Shakespeare siblings lived on the streets at the same time as children. Their youth, their friendship. Cyprian probably met them through Millay’s, once Zoë started working there. Their first meeting must have been epic

Relatedly, I’ve seen people do fics where Silas hangs out with the Ricardians (though admittedly there could be more of those, focusing on Silas getting to know each of them and like some of them (he will never like Francis, but finds Julius tolerable)). But what about Dom meeting Silas’s friends? I want Dom sitting in a room with Silas, Will, Jon, Zoë, and others and them being skeptical of Silas’s Tory (except Zoë, who’s fond of him) but slowly coming to appreciate that he’s trying hard to like Silas’s friends and be somewhat palatable to them. (Bonus points for a crossover with the Band Sinister universe. I think this group would be friends with Theodore Swann, Martin St. Vincent, Amanda Frisby, and Jon Raven).

Francis Webster meeting Robin Loxleigh and playing him in a game of cards

Dom going to something (a dinner?) and ending up next to Lord Corvin. He’s outraged by everything coming out of the man’s mouth and is also sitting there panicking because there are hand-shaped bruises around Corvin’s wrist (from John, of course) and he doesn’t like having a single thing in common with the Devil’s Lord, but he can’t help but feel kinship with him

The Murder showing up to Romney Marsh to visit Luke and meeting Gareth, Joss, Sophy, Rufus, and the lot. Corvin would adore the Earl’s castle with its random corridors and nonsensical gothic architecture. Plus the sacrificial alter thing. Amanda would absolutely set a Gothic novel on Romney Marsh. Gareth and the Salcombe-Streets would love talking about their exploration of nature via bugs and fossils.

DS meeting Phoebe and realizing he should have hired her to be the secret agent instead of Kim because she has all of Kim’s competence and none of his Kimmishness. (This is not a diss on Kim, but he and Will have just come back from another bungled mission where they left behind a string of bodies and DS is furious). Plus she’s pretty and feminine, which means everybody basically overlooks her and it’s very easy for her to get info because a lady can’t possibly be a threat.

Anything with the Seven Wonders. Idk why nobody writes Death in the Spires fic, but I need all of it. Ella and Aaron’s awkward reunion while he still believes she’s a murderer but they start working together to figure out what the fuck Jem is up to. The five remaining Wonders hanging out after the end of the book. Outsider povs of all the people who work at Oxford having heart attacks when they all descend on campus at the same time. Prue and Ella slowly repairing their friendship. Aaron and Jem’s friendship

A day in the life of Mr. Peacock, devoted husband to the most ordinary woman in the world. He just tries to do normal things like make breakfast and look after his wife, but in the background Kim and Will are up to shenanigans. But the whole time Mr. Peacock has to be unruffled and act like none of this is even slightly out of the ordinary

Marianne Loxleigh should meet Amanda Frisby. They’d either invent feminism or cause the apocalypse by noon

Theo and Martin have to meet the Murder. It would be so good. Theo’s already met John, but he’s entirely unprepared for Corvin being Corvin and also for Amanda and her gothic novels and also for every single person treating him like a celebrity because they all love Jonathan. Meanwhile Martin in having a heart attack over the fact that this is The Murder, but he gets on well enough with Guy, Phil, John, and David, all of whom are least capable of pretending to be suitable company

[milkypompon]

pairing: Nathan Bateman x F!Reader

summary: Did you wake up in your boss' bed after a night together? Oops...

content: Fluff, morning after, talks of sex, sprinkles of smut

wc: 642

a/n: I am balls deep into Nathan Bateman... I'm rewatching Ex Machina and couldn't help but write for this pathetically genius man.

Main Masterlist

–

The bed underneath you was plush… too soft even.

You roll around in the sheets and still haven’t fallen off the single-sized mattress.

Oh, fuck. 

This was a king-sized mattress. 

And it wasn’t yours for that matter.

“You going to piss on my pillows next? C’mon, finish marking your territory.” A lilt of amusement hidden behind the gruff smirk catches you off-guard.

“I already did last night.” You throw said pillows at Nathan, he sidessteps each one. “Where’d you put my phone?”

Nathan chuckles and leans against the door frame, a towel wrapped low on his waist – freshly bathed with water droplets clinging to his chest. 

You knew that you’d be caught staring anyway, so you didn’t bother being discreet about it.

“Are you gonna take pictures to use as references for solo sessions?” He pushes up his glasses, making a show of it with his fingers. 

You rub the sleep out of your eyes, ineffectively stopping last night’s memories from seeping in. Those deliciously thick digits that plugged his cum back into your cunt, threatening to spill out to his annoyance. 

“Just give it back, Bateman. You and I got shit to do.”

Nathan pouts.

He fucking pouts.

You almost feel bad for wanting to leave but reality gave you a cold-wash of “you just slept with your boss”. 

“Quit thinking so hard, you’re gonna fry your brain.” He fishes your phone from god knows where because he certainly didn’t have pockets sewn into the towel.

“Was that between your ass cheeks?”

He tosses your phone back. “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

The view is “not safe for work” to say the least. 

Your bare back is pressed against the bed, your stiffening nipples exposed to the cool air. The only thing covering you up right now was the thin sheet splayed across your pussy. (Damn rich people and their attraction to minimalism). 

But there was no point of decency now. He’d seen you on your knees and against the wall. 

There were a few places he’s yet to take you like his annoyingly neat desk that you wanted to mess up just for the sake of musing his workspace.

He said it’d be like straight out of a badly written porno. “Hot, billionaire boss fucks ditzy, sexy assistant on his desk during work hours.”

You rolled your eyes. “You sure the title shouldn’t be ‘assistant finds out her boss is actually the owner of PornHub’? How the hell did you come up with it so fast?”

His sweatpants were past his knees but he was rudely interrupted by a call with the board before he could pull your panties off. 

“Alright, sir. You’ve got a long day today.” You open up the Teams app, listing off his daily meetings. 

He plucks your phone and settles your head into the crook of his neck. “I knew you’d do this, pretending like it didn’t happen.”

“I can’t believe I slept with you.”

“I know, I was there.” 

You can’t help it when the corners of your lips curl at his stupid remark.

Nathan beams at drawing out a reaction. “Oh? Is that a smile I see?”

“No, you idiot.” You’re full-on grinning now, cheesing and all.

“Quit worrying about your pretty head, babe. You’re already working full-time at the facility, no one’s gonna know what you’re doing here. Besides, my dick is just a bonus.”

“Is your dick equivalent to a bar of gold? Because I’m gonna need that extra money once I get fired.”

“Now you’re just giving me ideas. Imagine that! A golden dildo molded from my cock.” He strokes his beard. “A true Midas’ touch.” 

You crane over to him, nudging your nose against his. “I’d never survive a day in your mind.”

“Well, you made it through a night with me, so I think it’s fair game.”

I'd love to hear your thoughts and my inbox is always open for requests or if you want to chat!

[byemambo]

4Minutes EP. 6 - My Takeaways

Y'all...The way I was working OVERTIME trying to figure out how I wanted to explain my thoughts for this episode (this post is extremely long: take that as you will). So please welcome OG TymeGreat vs. NDE (near death experience) TymeGreat and their timelines (everything else under the cut!):

Great Version

Tyme Version

Key Events: Assessing the Timelines

I listed out key events that I felt matched up within each existing timeline (and I'm sure I missed more key events/details that aren't listed in my findings), no matter the person nor alternative reality they're in. For Great's timeline, the key events include:

Waking up to take his exam

Hitting Manee with his car

Receiving the call from Title

Korn being attacked

Great learns Tyme's identity as the attacker

Great confronting Tyme at the hospital the next day

Great confronting his parents for their crimes

Great renounces his ties to his family

While these events occurred regardless of the different decisions Great could make, what was striking to me was Great's distinct characteristics that existed in both timelines while also having characteristics individual to their respective timelines. For OG Great, he's extremely defiant and cynical, especially if he's able to get a rise out of his father for reasons prior to knowing about the business, I'm not exactly sure (except for him being the mistress's son before the first wife committed suicide).

Episode 6 vs. Episode 1

Given that we didn't get any scenes of him bonding with Korn throughout the episode unlike NDE Great, I can only imagine there's a bias towards Korn as the favorite son between the two where one listens and submits while the other vocal and disobeys. Along with being defiant and having the guts to gauge the wold with cockiness, he is also a coward that's easily persuaded and manipulated. This shows up most during scenes like the hit and run or when Title demanded Great to help get rid of Dome's body and in turn, become an accomplice to the crime.

Episode 6 vs. Episode 1

OG Great also operates on this mindset of being silver spooned his entire life more explicitly than NDE Great, and becomes hot headed when placed under immense pressure once he's unable to play mind games with his targets such as Tyme. Even though their hook up and Tyme leaking his sex tape caused a scandal with his dad's company, the amount of trauma Great has dealt with growing up (this kid never played a crane machine game so I can only imagine how lonely his upbringing was) resorts to him chasing after those dopamine hits and becoming shameless as a result.

One of the few times OG Great chose his own morals and acted upon them in the storyline was when he found out about his parents and their involvement with the scheme, but this decision only occurred when people he cared about died or got hurt, like Nan and Tyme. Because he had developed a short spanned codependency on Tyme (whether for more sex or because he found his serious demeanor amusing), once he had been left with nothing due to reasons beyond his control, he leaves his family behind after the confirmation of their crimes.

Unlike NDE Great, OG Great is self centered and only acts when pushed beyond his limits, but only if the consequences of that limit involves someone he genuinely cares about (this is the stark difference between Dome's demise versus Tyme's meltdown after Nan's death). Sure, people can argue that Great knows Tyme at a similar level of depth like he knew Dome (apart from being sexually involved with one another), but his interests peaks in Tyme once he finds out that he's seeking revenge against his father and finds that mere effort entertaining for him. In the OG timeline, Great's flaws directly causes his detriment in the end, getting shot by Dome's older brother Tonkla in vengeance.

Episode 6 vs. Episode 5

In Tyme's timeline, there aren't as many moving parts that we saw on screen as much as Great's (since their particular story is limited narrative through Great's perspective) but these events remain consistent in his story:

Tyme works a hospital shift

Den tells him about his NDE research

Tyme works the night shift with Great in his proximity

Tyme attacks Korn in search of Nan

Great confronts Tyme at the hospital the next day

What I found most interesting in OG Tyme's timeline was how linear and straightforward the events occurred in sequence, which would have been the case if Great never asked him about his occurring NDE symptoms like he did in the NDE timeline while being under Tyme's care. Tyme's prior knowledge to Den's research served as a seed planted in the back of his mind, which if Great hadn't asked him (if he chose to help Title get rid of Dome's body), Tyme would have went along with his plan and shelved Den's research with no intention in intervention. The difference in approach between OG Tyme and NDE Tyme was rooted in their initial encounters, both being Great bumping into Tyme and how it was handled.

If Great continued heading his way, Tyme's initial impression of Great would have been slightly annoyed (which we saw a preview of how he yelled at Great during the first cardiac arrest Great had when he bumped into Tyme and didn't help him). But if Great stopped to apologize and even help Tyme with the papers, there is a hint of consideration in that gesture, even if Great himself is a flawed person capable of doing bad things. For some, basic human decency isn't a mind blowing trait for people to fawn over, but this can be contrasted when Tyme asks P'Anne for his information and finally gets confirmation of Great's identity.

Episode 6 vs. Episode 1

Episode 6 vs. Episode 3

From the perspective of Tyme who's dedicated his personal life in bringing down the family responsible for the death of his parents, I'm sure having a painted image of what inhumane and vulgar things the family is capable of, Great's first impression as the younger son of the enemy is somehow normal? As if this man isn't capable of hurting a fly, let alone killing people like his father does (why did I think of fucking Lord Ozai and Prince Zuko when proofreading this loooooord someone send me to bed asap). Rather than treating Great as just a means to an end with no prior attachment and full intent in harming the family's reputation as OG Tyme would have, NDE Tyme's prior interactions with Great by him helping Tyme with his papers (the readiness to correct his faults while providing a solution to aid in the damage caused, big or small), Great bringing his hurt friend to the hospital without acknowledging his own injuries (a sign of selflessness and reliability) and asking Tyme about his symptoms related to his cardiac arrests and moments of NDE, there are layers being shed off of Tyme's preconceived notions about the family.

Episode 2

Episode 6

Not only are there layers, Tyme's curiosity peaks because why is the son of the family who killed his parents seemingly harmless and clumsy? Shouldn't someone of his background be more cautious and conceal himself more, especially when speaking to a stranger such as Tyme? Does he know what his parents do and the damage they have caused for countless families and victims? In comparison to OG Great who's callous and bold, NDE Great is soft and easily startled, therefore, needs a more calculative and somewhat honest approach to secure a connection to get closer to bringing the family down.

Episode 6 vs. Episode 3

Characterization: A vs. B

When writing my reflections, I found it interesting how TymeGreat's relationship develops within their respective timelines, especially how each encounter they had with one another fueled different emotions and residual feelings. In the OG timeline, their relationship is innately lustful with distance between them, their main objectives involve concealed vengeance, amusement in the series of events occurring between them and not being able to access the full story of the two worlds both individuals were a part of before their paths crossed.

Whereas in the NDE timeline, their relationship began with a curiosity that defied expectations and welcomed communication, such as asking intimate questions and offering valuable solutions to majority of their problems: Great asking Tyme about his cardiac symptoms, Tyme consulting Den about his research after Great's conversation, Great confiding in Tyme about his upbringing, Tyme revealing the cause of his parents' death, Great confronting his own family for their crimes and seeking accountability. All of these traits wouldn't have been present if that initial hit and run played out differently: they would have crossed paths regardless but their attitudes and motives would shape the state of their relationship.

Episode 6 vs. Episode 3

Episode 6 vs. Episode 5

However, there are innate traits that remained consistent in both characters. Great with his impulsivity and tackling his problems head strong, Tyme with his nonchalance and caring attitude towards the people he loves (such as his grandmother). What really caused the divergence of their whims were purely based in the circumstances they find themselves in during their initial encounters. When they met at the bar, Great's impulsivity charged the motion of their relationship, ending with his cowardice separating the two once Nan died at the hands of Samarn. Tyme's detached attitude that drove his girlfriend away from him and poses concern from Den as a fellow doctor in how he denies his patients of their own identity and autonomy, causes him to take advantage of Great's relations to the family, ending in his own death after denying the bribe by Great's father.

Episode 6

Episode 6

Episode 1

Despite it all, the most significant element that both Tyme and Great share is the leverage both have over one another through their emotional attachments, which may seem small in comparison to more flashy events within the storyline but for these two characters: it makes a world of a difference. When NDE Tyme reveals his identity during the ambush against Korn, which led Great to help Tyme find Nan and as a result, saving her life. This is critical as OG Great is inherently a coward with a dopamine deficiency and enjoys causing trouble for his father's reputation at his own demise.

Episode 4

When Tyme is willing to risk his life exposing Great's family to the press, Great reminds him of his grandmother, driving Tyme to accept the bribe from Great's dad and find safety at Aunt Ging's house together. Unlike OG Tyme, whose reserved and passive attitude enables his life to be filled with the absurd and mundane, that money is the driving force of life and the root of all evil that took his parents away from him, so what else is there to live for as long as he avenges his family?

Episode 5

Now for my questions for the last two episodes: if Great dies in the OG timeline and is actively dying in the NDE timeline, since Tyme's destined fate to die in the OG timeline has been altered once he's notified of Great's condition in the emergency room by Den, he has a chance of avoiding death that OG Tyme suffers from. It may be a stretch but look at the two hit men who targeted Tyme and Great.

Episode 1 vs. Episode 5

The hit man in episode 1 look significantly younger than the hit man in episode 5, but same facial hair? The shadow in the first image throws me off but it's freaky to speculate as it sent shivers down my spine whenever I got a better screenshot of them. If I put my two brain cells together: in the OG timeline, Tonkla targets and shoots Great but Tyme is also shot in episode 1, which makes me believe that their timelines are converging somehow as both of them enter their 4 minutes of limbo and their memories and experiences are warped.

In the NDE timeline, because Dome is saved and returns home to Tonkla, the only person reasonable in targeting Great would be Manee after she finds out which family is responsible for her son's involvement in illegal business (which her giving up her life savings and being given the 4th card during her ritual that calls for separation of loved ones). This separation in question is the separation of Tyme from Great as Great's fighting for his vitals to stabilize just as Tyme rushes to the OR?

Because NDE Tyme goes with his grandmother to Aunt Ging's instead of sending her on her own as OG Tyme does, both of them are technically off the radar from being targeted, or at least bought enough time to make a safe escape if Great's father goes back on his word outlined in the proposed bribe. Seeing as Tyme's wearing the same shirt in both timelines at this point, we're now waiting to see how this will play out, and I'm literally so excited to lose sleep all over again.

Episode 1 vs. Episode 6

If you made it to the end, pat yourself on the back! And if you've been actively reading my previous posts regarding my takeaways, I really appreciate the love they've been getting! I'm more than happy to hyperfixate on this series and help out with really digging deep in the details that could help those who are having difficulty following along with the series. Idk, y'all got to yell at Bible on Twitter then because he thinks he's so funny tweeting this:

If y'all would like to read more, check out my tags and thank you again for sticking around, see y'all next Friday or whatever day my brain finishes finalizing its thoughts to share with y'all :)

[ixtaek]

We have lists of the Links Dark World forms, but what about the Zeldas??? Just because it “doesn’t happen in canon” doesn’t mean I can’t dream! Reasoning under the Read More.

Sun: Dove.

Dot: Firefly!

Lullaby: Puma

Dusk: Viper~

Artemis: Barn Owl

Tetra: Killer Whale.

Fable: Crane

Aurora: Housecat

Echo: Bat

Dawn: Duck

Flora: Frog

So some of these go with my Link headcanons, but here goes:

Sun: Doves are associated with holiness, peace, and sacrifice. Sun is NOT a fighter. She doesn't help you in the final battle. We love her anyway.

Dot: Fireflies are a little bug, but makes flashes of light (Light Force!) and is in general the cutest beetle. Goes with my “Four is an iridescent beetle” headcanon.

Lullaby: Pumas are silent and graceful, like Sheik. Plus a baby puma is cute and seems harmless, like little Lullaby, who was plotting to stop Ganondorf even as a child.

Dusk: Vipers don't just attack willy nilly. They wait till the right moment then strike. Dusk doesn't do much till the end, but then she brings the heat. Plus, the game notably has a friendly snake spirit.

Artemis: Another silent and speedy hunter, plus associated with a goddess of war! She also can be Sheik so she deserves something elegant.

Tetra: Beautiful, strong, and works best with a pod/crew. Could obliterate you, but she often seems to be saving people in spite of her title.

Fable: This one was the toughest, but cranes are associated with the moon, like rabbits, and wishes and myths. Also I seem to like making them birds.

Aurora: Sleeby. But also, since I’ve seen people headcanon she is Echo, she’s spent time talking to cats.

If Echo is her own Zelda, she would be a bat, because echolocation is too good a pun to pass up (plus Keese were my favorite echo to use and their wings look like a cloak)

Dawn: When you're a baby, ducks are like. the first animal you learn. And Dawn is technically the first Zelda ever made. Plus, cute. My excuse for all of these is "cute" actually. Ducks can also be protective of their nests and I imagine that though she’s softer than other Zeldas she’s still protective of Hyrule.

Flora: "Hey Link eat this!!!". She’s also the second most energetic Zelda (after Dot), and was good at bouncing place to place to avoid Link before they became friends. And a blue frog is cute, sue me.

[ririya-translates]

Kokuto Neji's Story

Translation of Neji's concept art short story (original) for his birthday on March 22nd. Story by Shin Towada (JJ lead writer and Ishida's sister). Art by Lownine. Much like the others, there aren't really any spoilers as it's at the very beginning of the game before the first play.

The stage is a gigantic machine. Jacks and Jeannes are the gears and I'm the mechanic who assembles them all.

The darkened room is lit solely by a clattering computer with light strong enough to rival the midday sun. The bookshelves along the walls are crammed tight beyond usual capacity. The remaining books that couldn't fit have been turned into a fort on the floor. "Hmmm." Out of that pile, he easily picks out a book while holding a cup of coffee in his other hand. The one craning his neck towards the computer screen is the owner of this room. He's a third-year at Univeil Drama School. Working under somewhat special circumstances, he's the leader of Quartz: Kokuto Neji. His classmates include the Quartz Al Jeanne, Sarafumi Takashina, and Jack Ace, Kai Mutsumi. Taking liberal advantage of Univeil's culture of respect for personal autonomy, Neji doesn't just write and perform. He's able to act as both a Jack and a Jeanne, using his many talents to bring the performance together. Even now, he's in the middle of making preparations for the newcomers' performance. His eyes dart around as he scrolls through the screen. He's fidgety inside his head. For this reason, a knock at the door rings out unusually strongly.

"Yes, yes, come iiiin!" As Neji snaps back to reality, he opens the door with a feeling of anticipation. "Thanks." Behind the door stands a person with pale skin and soft hair. So soft it's as if the colour has faded and dissolved. This utterly adorable person raises his eyes towards Neji. "Why on earth would you call me over here then ignore me? I have things to do too you know." The edge of criticism in his voice gives a very different impression from his outside appearance. "Sorry about that, Shirota!" Mitsuki Shirota. He's a second-year, one year below Neji. As one would expect from his looks, he's been assigned to female roles as a Jeanne. "Honestly, I didn't think you'd actually show up." Shirota's eyes grow sharper as he speaks without hesitation. "Using a first-year as your carrier pigeon, what kind of excuse is that?" Neji had casually requested one of the brand new Quartz students to send Shirota to his office. "Well weren't you the one who told me to stop asking Kai to do things?" "Obviously. You shouldn't be using our Jack Ace for your trivial errands." "Right, so instead I asked this new person to be a pinch hitter." "I said to stop doing that too. Ugh, what do you want?" "How did that kid get you to come here? What kinda trap did he use?" "…You called me here for no reason didn't you. I'm leaving." "Hey, wait!" As Shirota turns to leave, Neji holds out both of his hands as if to say 'I'm sorry, I'm screwed up!' Shirota's expression darkens, recognizing that Neji hasn't reflected on his actions one bit. "So? What do you want?" Neji prefaces his words with, "I guess I messed up a bit," before finally cutting to the chase. "What is your impression of the first-years?" Shirota furrows his brow. "You asked Fumi and Kai this too, didn't you?" "You're right, I did!" He had asked both Fumi and Kai the same question. "If you have answers from both the Al Jeanne and Jack Ace, that should be enough. Why do you need to ask me too?" "What are you talking about?! You're our Tresor. You're our flower too!" Tresor is the name for Univeil Jeannes with strong singing abilities. The title suits Shirota perfectly. His outstanding vocal talents add vibrant colour to their performances. It's popular with audiences too. "I am glad you're with Quartz still though. I know you're pretty in-demand with Rhodonite." Shirota stays silent at the mention of that name. Univeil is divided into four separate classes with their own special traits. As the "transparent" Quartz class, they are primarily made up of inexperienced performers who have yet to find their true colours. This could put the class at a disadvantage, but really there are quite a few who enrol brimming with hidden talents. Quartz gives them the space to let those talents free. The content of their performances are tailored specifically for the current state of the class. The songs, dances, acting, all of it.

In contrast, classes like Onyx and Rhodonite have clearly defined colours. Powerful Jack dancers are the main selling point of Onyx, whereas Rhodonite pushes the dazzling singing talents of their Jeannes front and centre. Considering Shirota's abilities, it wouldn't be strange at all for him to have been sorted into Rhodonite. Actually, Rhodonite's class leader is pretty taken with him. But whatever class you look at, all of them are desperately aiming for that top spot -- now more than ever.

"So? What do you think of this year's new students?" Neji's tone of voice drops for the first time in this conversation,"You know it won't be good if things stay as they are, right? What with Amber and all…" That's the name of the fourth Univeil class. But it's hard to act as if the others are on equal ground with them. Shirota seems to grasp the weight of these words. He grips the sky blue tie around his neck as he appears deep in thought. He finally opens his mouth. "…There are three people I noticed," he says bluntly. Starting with Person 1. "Orimaki. I don't know how he got into Univeil with his singing skills so low, but his voice is strong and direct." Onto Person 2. "Yonaga. Him being as he is, he's a late bloomer who's constantly nervous about how he even got into Univeil. But he also thinks twice as much about the meaning of each song. That being said…"

Shirota's immediate answer suddenly hits a pause. "It's possible both of them just got my attention because they aren't very good." "In that case, they should consider themselves lucky you graced your eyes on them." Neji jokes then stares at him intently. "And the third person?" Mitsuki sighs at being asked for his final answer. "It's the one you made into your little carrier pigeon." A voice deep in Neji's heart whispers 'I knew it.' "So then, does our carrier pigeon also have a glimmer of sparkle out of a mountain of problems like Orimaki and Yonaga do?" "No, that guy is…" Shirota hesitates a moment as he chooses his words carefully. "I still don't know yet." "You don't know, which means…?" "Exactly what I said." He speaks as if to say he will give no further comment on the matter. "Is that enough for you now? I'm leaving." Having finished what he was asked, Shirota heads for the door. "Ah, one last thing! How did this pigeon get you to come over here?" Shirota is the type who prefers not to group up with others in class. He keeps a distance between himself and other people. He's not the type someone could easily convince by just asking outright. Even moreso if it comes from a student younger than him. "……" Shirota responds to Neji's hastily thrown words with silence. He opens the door to leave. That's as far as we're getting today, is it? "…It wasn't anything special." Neji's mood suddenly shifts at the sound of a reply he didn't expect to ever hear. "I was just taking a short break during practice and he came up to me and said 'Neji was asking for you'." A surprised 'ohh?' slips out of Neji's mouth. "So in other words, he chose when to make the request based on timing that would work for you?" There are times when Shirota is busy singing of course; however, there are also a lot of times when he appears to be doing nothing, but is actually busy arranging music in his mind. Figuring out the timing of when he's truly taking a break is no easy task. Even aside from the music, there are times when he doesn't want to be hassled with having to talk to someone. Using this understanding of his quirks, that carrier pigeon was able to start up a conversation. "Isn't that actually quite special after all?!" Neji says with a nod of admiration.

Upon hearing this, Shirota restrains himself from turning around and calling him a bald-faced liar. "This was all part of your plan, wasn't it?" His eyes sharply say, 'You haven't fooled me.' "Turning him into your carrier pigeon worked out just as you planned. Getting me to show up here and to name him as one of the students I noticed. You already knew all these things. It was just a ploy to confirm them." Shirota states his assertions strongly. Neji grins. He keeps up the act that there's no hidden motive behind his actions, but it smells like a lie. Shirota's face fills with disgust. He passes through the door, speaking as if he cannot bear to be around Neji any longer. "Please don't use me as a ruler for measuring other people." He shuts the door immediately to not let the conversation linger. "My my, Shirota is quite clever isn't he." Listening to the footsteps fade into the distance, Neji stifles his smile. "But regardless, the fact that pigeon was able to navigate this sense of distance with Shirota shows he might have quite a number of uses." This could be precisely reflected on-stage too. Neji's mind overflows with so many different ideas at an intensity that could give birth to a whole other world. "However, the 'I still don't know' part is there too. Fumi and Kai said the same thing." It seems difficult to learn the true nature of this bird. Even for Neji, there's many things about this younger student he's still unable to grasp. "The stage is a gigantic machine. Jacks and Jeannes are the gears…and I'm the mechanic who assembles them all. What shape will these talents take? Just watch and see." Neji takes a sip from the coffee he's been holding all this time. It went cold ages ago, but in this moment it's just what his body needs.

[acapelladitty]

Greasing The Wheels: Part Two

Pairing: Riddler/Reader/Scarecrow

Word Count: 6.5k

Part One available HERE

Summary: After the 'success' of your first meeting with Crane, Edward arranges another meeting as he allows the mad scientist free use of your body and soul.

(warnings: threesome, deepthroating, whipping, double penetration, rough sex, exhibitionism, bdsm dynamics, anal sex, crying, orgasm, cum marking, punishment)

As always, Edward’s instructions were as clear as day and delivered in such a way that even the simplest of minds could comprehend them as your eyes flick over the scrawled note which awaited you atop his favourite chair.

Your role is to do whatever is asked of you. You will service Crane as a makeshift cleaner, doing what you can to improve his working space, while also fulfilling any other service which he may require of you. You are expected to do so with enthusiasm and skill, using your prior knowledge of what Crane likes to ensure that he enjoys you.

Failure to meet any of these very basic requirements will result in punishment and Crane and I have very different approaches to administering discipline. We have discussed your enjoyment of our previous meeting and Crane has expressed a clear desire to test you with elements of his toxin. Disappoint or embarrass me and I will be forced to indulge him.

All our usual rules apply, and Crane is aware of both your limits and your safeword.

Preparations were quick to follow.

You were meticulous in your routine as every inch of your body found itself treated to some form of treatment, be it an exfoliation or a shave, and your makeup was kept simple to enhance your natural features. It was Edward’s preference and on nights like this, when the game was the focus of your fun, it was your pleasure to indulge him.

Edward observed the results, as he always did, and he seemed pleased with your efforts if the slight warmth in his gaze and wandering hands was anything to go by.

“Pretty little thing.” He murmured, running his fingers across the loose white shirt which tucked into the short skirt that hung to just above your knee. “Do you remember your role?”

“Yes, sir.” You answer and the title earns you an approving nod as he pulls his goggles free of his hairline and deposits them at the side.

“Excellent. I will be working on the finishing touches for Crane’s new customised leg brace so my presence will be mixed. He is aware of my hard rules and, should he disrespect them, you are permitted to call for me and seek out my support. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do well and we’ll see about a special reward.” Edward leered, not bothering to hide the slight tent in his slacks as he brushed his groin against your hip.

“One that I’ll like?” You ask, batting your lashes as you tilt your head at him.

The question nets a chuckle as his fingers trace along your jawline.

“For a little while, yes.”

x-x-x-x-x

The abandoned farmhouse which Edward revealed as Crane’s hideout was surprisingly imposing as it loomed ahead on the short drive. Edward, one hand on the wheel and the other alternating between the gearstick and your thigh, did not seem the slightest bit intimidated as he quickly dragged the car up the dirt path and switched the engine off.

A nervous energy, one borne of your previous encounter with Crane plus the promise of what lay ahead, made your body shiver as your hands flexed against your legs.

“Are you incompetent?”

The question catches you by surprise, making you start a little as your head snaps towards Edward - only to find him staring at you intently.

“I’m not sur-”

“Are you incompetent?” Edward repeated, cutting you off with a harsh voice.

Meeting his gaze as you often did, you shake your head softly.

“No, sir.”

“Then you will be fine. You have your instructions and your safety net.”

Now nodding in agreement, you slip from the car and try to ignore the slight dampness of your underwear and the shameful way in which your anxiety only seems to make it worse.

The house is unlocked, and Edward is quick to sweep you through the main floor as he leads you through to the main living space. It is an odd sort of house with many of the furnishings and trappings missing, replaced with unmarked boxes and scientific looking equipment which meant nothing to you. Eventually though, your gawking ceases as Edward turns a corner and brings you face to face with Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow himself.

Clearly in his main workspace, a large desk sat surrounded by various notepads and stacks of books which were clearly used often. A slightly smaller desk lay attached to the larger one and this was covered with beakers and mixed bottles of coloured liquids.

Crane himself stood in full costume; his patchwork costume and mobility aids as familiar as ever as the majority of his face lay hidden away by both his mask and the shadows of his hood.

A traitorous stab of arousal lances through you as you meet his milky gaze once more.

“Good evening, Doctor Crane.” Lowering your head in greeting, your voice is slightly higher than usual and the cadence of it doesn’t go amiss as a slight smirk tugs at the corners of Edward’s lips.

“Crane.” Edward offers, nodding only once.

“Nygma.” Jonathan answers in kind. “And his little pet. How delightful. Does she know of our arrangement?”

Heat tickles at your cheeks as both men speak of you as if you were not there.

“Yes. She knows the role she is to fill as we work.”

“Good. Come here, dear.”

Moving forward on legs which feel unsteady, you take the few steps necessary to stand before him and your neck tilts up to meet his impressive height.

“And what do you think of our little arrangement? I don’t imagine your master asked your thoughts before he traded you like a whore.” Heat pooling between your thighs, your arms remain submissively pinned to your side as his thin hands move to ghost along your body, teasing the edge of the shirt.

“He told me what was expected and it’s not my place to question it, Sir.”

Crane’s cold fingers trace over the soft bruises which have only just started to fade on your exposed collarbone, his fingertips matching up to the evidence of your activities with Edward earlier in the week. “Masochism suits you, little toy. Tell me, at what point do those masochistic tendencies fall into true suffering? When your master punishes you? Roughly fucks you? When you disappoint him?”

“If I disappoint him then I deserve to be punished.” You answer with a demure smile, feeling the burn of Edward’s eyes on the back on your skull. “He’s brilliant and he always knows what’s best for me.”

“Even when he punishes you to the point where tears are streaming, and you feel ready to break? To shatter into pieces like fragile glass?”

“Especially then.” You pause before adding a hasty. “Sir.”

It’s a cheeky response and it does not go unnoticed as yet another small chuckle pulls free of Edward’s unseen lips and Crane’s eyes darken, dilating almost imperceptibly.

“Your little rabbit has fire.” Crane comments, eyes casting over to Edward as he disregards you completely. “Do you lack the discipline to truly snuff it out?”

“A broken toy has no appeal.”

“Hmm, yes. For once, we agree.”

And with that Crane took a step back and you found yourself dismissed as both men took their leave to head over to one of the sprawling tables. Remembering Edward’s earlier information, you turn in place and head back to the kitchen which you had spotted earlier, knowing that the items you need will be found there.

Sure enough, sitting atop one of the wooden kitchen units lies a plastic bucket surrounded by two or three various cleaning products plus a fresh pack of cloths. A touch of humiliation plays across your skin as your role for the evening truly sets in and you are quick to fill the plastic bucket with hot water from the nearby tap before adding some cleanser.

Your clothing isn’t designed for such a cool building and you shiver as a breeze curls around your exposed legs, piercing through your shirt and making your nipples press against the fabric as they peak. In response, you drop to the floor and start your tasks as you dip one of the cloths into the cleaning mixture and swipe it across the floor.

It comes away with some dirt but not as much as you would have expected given the general state of the house and a firm determination to do as well as you can settles in your mind. Edward wouldn’t allow any less and the promise of a reward was as deliciously tempting as ever.

Scrubbing away at the floor with a rhythmic motion time loses meaning until a soft creak of the wood behind you causes a startle that makes the brush fall from your hand. Attempting to turn in position, you find your movements halted by a rough hand gripping the back of your neck in such a way that you freeze in instant panic.

Little more than a creature clamped between wolves’ teeth.

"Do not stop working. No matter what."

Cold words with an unspoken threat, instantly recognisable as the deep tenor of Crane, wash over you and you nod out your understanding - a tight, anticipatory feeling settling in your gut.

"Speak, little rabbit. I trust your narcissistic master hadn't robbed you of your tongue yet."

"Yes, Dr. Crane, sir." You stammer out as your hand seals around the fallen brush to pick it up once more. Always following instructions.

Like a good girl should.

Your skirt is flung unceremoniously over your lower back to expose your entire lower half to his sight. A heated flush paints its way down your face and neck as you maintain slow circles of the brush while remaining on your knees.

His fingers are quick to brush over your skin, a feather light touch which draws a sigh from your lips until it forms into a light squeal as he brings his hand down hard on your defenceless ass. The loud crack of the connection breaks through the air like lightning and is instantly followed by a spreading heat that warms your cunt and sends a shiver down your spine.

"Don't. Stop." Two words punctuated by growls as he sinks two fingers viciously into your cunt, the digits using the thankful wetness there to sink up to the knuckle without much resistance. It's not a gentle touch, his fingers clearly testing your readiness rather than providing it, but the calloused skin and slight fullness feels like a delicious warning of what is to come.

His grip is brutal, hand digging into the flesh of your hips as you hear the slight squeak of his mechanical brace as he drops heavily on one knee to the floor. Arching your back, you raise your ass as you were expected to do - the position uncomfortable as you now support yourself mainly on the one hand which is not scrubbing away at the floor.

The sensation of his velvety cockhead brushed against your slit, seeking out the warm hole he viewed you as. The side of his curled hand brushes against your cunt as he angles himself carefully before thrusting himself within you in one sharp movement.

A yelp snaps free of your lips, pleasure lanced with a discomforting pain at his sudden intrusion making your walls spasm around him as your knees jerk against the floor. His breathing is heavy, interspersed with low grunts, as he gives himself a moment to enjoy the tightness of your hole as you clench around him.

It doesn't last, and he immediately sets himself off on a cruel pace; his hips slamming against your ass as he drives himself hard against your body, every thrust sparking a dull, aching pain as the very tip of his cock bounces off your cervix. The onslaught leaves you breathless, discomfort making tears well in your eyes as you cling to the warm pleasure which steadily builds around it.

"You take it so well." Crane snarls. "A trained whore, fulfilling her only purpose."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm going to use you as I see fit and when I'm ready to provide you the reward you've worked so hard for, you'll take every drop."

Shaking your head in a frantic nod, you cry out as a harsh hand tugs as your hair - yanking it back with such a ferocious grasp that your scalp burns as your head stretches back in such a way that your neck is fully exposed.

"Verbal answers only, little toy."

"Yes! Yes, sir. I understand." You babble out, the words strained by your taut neck before adding. "Thank you."

You can almost hear his smirk at the add-on as he resumes his brutal pace, his cock giving no quarter as the length of it reams you out. He was definitely longer than Edward but not as thick and the difference in size was surprising and unfamiliar.

Before long, his grunts grew more erratic, and his grip of your hips tightened to the point where you were certain that small rounded bruises would decorate the spot in the coming days. Without any warning, aside from a wicked thrust which slammed his cock against your cervix one final time, you felt the heat of his release as it burned you from the inside out.

Turned on but nowhere near your own peak, a whine of frustration slips free of your lips as you clench around him determined to milk out whatever pleasure you could. Sensing your intentions, Crane pulls free of you with a lurid wet noise which sparks a fresh blush across your cheeks. His hand gropes at your ass roughly, caressing and squeezing the skin painfully as he inspects your wrecked hole and the mess there.

"Turn." He commands, his tone low yet satisfied as he enjoyed the aftershocks of his own orgasm.

Following his intention, you keep the brush tight in hand as you shuffle around on your knees.

"Clean me, whore. Every inch." His hand is wrapped delicately around the base of his cock, his pinkie pressing against the thick patch of dark pubic hair which covers the skin there. "Miss even a millimetre and I'll take a switch to you so harshly that your master will have a hard time fixing the damage."

Shuddering at the threat, you dip your mouth forward and take his cock between your lips. The immediate taste of your own juices mixed with his release hits your tongue and it isn't the worst thing ever so you hum contentedly as you set your tongue to quick work; curling around his length and slurping along the shaft as you clean him diligently.

"I'll be using this cunt again before you leave."

You pull free of his cock to reply as a flush overtakes your cheeks at the unexpected vulgarity. "Yes, sir."

And without sparing a second glance in your direction, Crane tucks his wet cock back in his slacks, turns on his heel and disappears back through to the main workroom. His release trickling free of your abused cunt, you cup your hand across your sex and enjoy the heat of the skin against your palm. Your clit throbs beneath the heel of your hand and the temptation to grind into it is wicked.

Approaching footsteps make you flinch, and you quickly snatch your hand away and return to work, pulling your skirt from your back to its original state before rapidly wiping messy circles across a fresh patch of flooring.

“Working hard, pet? Good. I expect no less.”

Warmth alights in your chest as you look up to see Edward looming over your prone position. His dark slacks have an obvious bulge, and you crawl towards him obediently and without insistence, hands fumbling with his zipper to release his cock as he continues speaking.

“Good girl.” He praises quickly, a smile stretching his lips as you pump your hand along his cock. His green shirt is stained with grease and the scent of oil is strong against your nose. “Crane seems pleased with whatever performance he expected from you. Again, not that I expected any less. Your diligence towards your training shows.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You answer, enjoying the familiarity of his cock in your hand as you tease and please him in the ways which you know he loves – ensuring to keep your focus on the ultra-sensitive head of his cock and maintaining a firm pressure on the length as you stroke him down to the thick patch of pubic hair which cushions his groin.

Before too long, his breathing grows harsh and his hips move to buck his cock within your grip, both telltale signs that mean he’s almost ready for his release – signs that you had long since grown accustomed to as his cock remained buried deep within your throat or ass.

“Open your mouth.” He demands and you do so in an instant.

His hand replaces your own as a stuttering groan slips free of his lips and you jump in surprise as his release splashes across your mouth; thick ropes of cum landing across your tongue as one drips across your lower lip. The taste of him is quick to fill your senses and you allow your mouth to hang open until he’s quite finished and has slipped his softening cock back within his slacks.

“Now clean yourself up, pet.”

Swiping your tongue across your lower lip, you pick up the mess there and swallow it down without hesitation. A choice which earns you an approving grunt as his hand drops to press along your head, almost in the way that someone would pet a dog.

“Keep it up and my reward will remain will within reach.”

x-x-x-x-x

Kitchen complete and looking cleaner than you suspected it had been in some time, you soon move through to the living room without much difficulty. The only slight pause in your work came after finishing your thorough scrub of the floor and taking a much-needed bottle of water from the nearby fridge. You were thankful for the chilled water because you had a feeling you would be needing the extra hit of fluid before the evening was over.

The main room was cleaner than the kitchen and the difficulty mostly lay in trying to wipe-down between all the nooks and crannies of Crane’s various pieces of equipment. Some were dustier than others and moving around them required a level of focus that you were struggling to maintain.

Your earlier drink of water has washed the taste of Edward from your mouth, but your cunt still feels the sting of its earlier use, a sensation made worse by the constant standing and kneeling which was necessary for your domestic duties. The only benefit of having moved on to this space is that you can clearly see both men standing on the other side of the room as they continue their business.

Wiping the damp cloth across the table, your eyes dart over to both men as they remain huddled over some metal contraption which means nothing to your ignorant eyes.

A crash of glass makes you jump in place, and you whirl back to the table just to notice that one of the small glass beakers which was placed precariously close to the edge of the table is missing. A quick glance down confirms the mess, the tapered tip of the beaker having broken off and smashed in half just next to the base.

"Well, well, well…" Edward disappointed voice rings out from across the room and you straighten your spine against it, even as your head falls submissively to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Sirs, this toy didn't mea-"

"What you meant to do is irrelevant," Edward interrupts, his hand wiping itself off on his dingy white vest, "but what you did is make a mess. The exact opposite of your purpose here."

Remaining silent, you bow your head further to show just how sorry you were as a creeping suspicion that you had been set-up crawls along your spine.

"Doctor Crane?"

"Yes, Edward?" Crane joins the conversation smoothly, resting his weight on his good leg as a sadistic delight smooths across his twisted features.

"Since my toy saw fit to harm your property, I feel that an equal payment is due in kind. Please show our," Edward pauses, "what did you call her? Ah, yes, little rabbit, how carelessness is rewarded in this life."

"Of course." Crane croons in his deep tenor and a shiver runs through your skin as you realise that his punishments are unknown, nothing like those you were familiar with Edward doling out.

"And Crane?"

"Yes?"

Edward said nothing but his glance was particularly hard in such a way that you know something unspoken had passed between them.

Crane's movements were light as he approaches. His costume flutters with the subtle movement and your gaze settles on his shoes as you remain still. However, a hard grip on your chin forces your head up as you lock eyes with his milky gaze.

"Your master insists that I refrain from the use of my toxin as a punishment."

A shudder of relief rolls through your shoulders and Crane's features harden slightly as he notices it.

"For now, I should say. I have explained to him how such an experiment can be conducted safely, and he has asked for slightly more data which is easily provided. You will taste my toxin yet, whore."

His thin lips curl into a cruel smile, a determined smile, and you can hear the truth in the words.

"However," Crane continues, "his interference has meant that I am reduced to more physical forms of punishment. Go to your master and collect the switch."

Fear laced with arousal pools deep in your gut.

The dreaded switch.

Edward's punishments were not typically physical, his preference for predicament tasks and pinpoint orgasm control making the need for corporal punishment a less attractive option. But they weren't unknown and of all the various impact toys he introduced you to, the sharp sting of the switch was not among those that you could say you liked.

Padding over to where Edward is standing, he points wordlessly to the wall behind him, and you see the switch standing upright against it. You pick it up and quickly return to Crane, handing him the thin wooden stick and watching as he quickly tucks it beneath his armpit.

His hands, as steady as a surgeon, make quick work of your shirt - ripping the buttons free as they skitter across the floor with a tinny sound. Gooseflesh breaks across your skin at how cool his fingers are as he gropes at your tits with a methodical brutality; squeezing with a full palm before zeroing his attention in on your peaked nipples, a vicious pinch between his thumbs and forefinger making you whimper.

"A very soft little thing." He muses in a gravelled voice. "Malleable."

Remaining silent, you take the unexpected examination with shuddering breaths as arousal and shame swirl through your thoughts while he takes the shirt from your upper body and dumps it unceremoniously on the floor.

"Turn around."

"Yes, Dr Crane."

Turning, you face the opposite way and jump in place as his cold hands grab at your wrists to move them against the wall you were now facing.

"If these hands move from this position, then I'll double your punishment for disobedience." He warns, rolling the hem of your skirt between his fingers before tucking it in to the waistband – fully exposing your ass as much as your back.

"Yes, Sir."

"Ten was the agreement set out by your master so let's not disappoint him. Count them out."

CRACK

The first blow catches you across the upper back in such a way that the sting of it makes your upper half curl in place. It's like a flick of lightning, carving its way across your exposed skin for a moment of sharp pain followed by an unpleasant throb as you couldn’t rub at the affected area.

"One." You answer steadily.

He's cruel in his delivery of the next two strikes, swishing the switch with a surprising level of force and ensuring that he hits fresh skin across the middle and lower parts of your back. The second hit you took with a grunted count of two, but the third drew a soft yelp of discomfort as your face screwed up in pain.

"We're only on three, little rabbit. Surely Nygma wouldn't play with a toy this easily broken?"

CRACK

“Four!” You cry out, flinching hard as this blow land across the back of your upper thighs, the sting there even worse than your back. He follows up with another two, quick blows and they both lash across your exposed thighs as a high-pitched cracking noise rings out across the quiet workspace.

There’s very little pleasure to this pain and the sudden intensity of it brings tears to your eyes as your palms tremble against the wall. Your thighs feel like they’re on fire and you wouldn’t be surprised if the welts were already visible from the sheer force which Crane seemed to be putting into the hits.

“Six.” A stuttered whimper.

Ready for a new target, you feel the tip of the switch tracing across your ass, and you tense in preparation of the hits to come. Again, he’s sadistic in his delivery of the next three blows. The first cracks across your ass with a sharp pain that draws a yowl of distress from your lips, one made worse by the continuing throb of your back and thighs. Crane then waits, long enough to ensure that the pain of the hit was beginning to ebb before delivering the next.

Knowing that Edward was watching, you call out the numbers of each strike of the switch – the ninth call coming out as more of a cry than an easy distinguished number and your knees shake with the effort of keeping your body absolutely still, knowing that Crane will add another ten if he sensed any hint of disobedience.

“Only one left, little rabbit.” Crane calls out, his voice laboured with the effort of his hits. “Where should I put this one, I wonder? Edward?”

“Dealers choice. She hates corporal punishment, so I trust your judgment.” Edward’s unseen voice responds, and you can hear the amusement in his tone.

Standing with your hands and legs spread, the silence which falls fills you with an anxiety made even worse by the fact that you know Crane is seriously considering how best to use his final hit.

CRACK

A searing heat sparks up across your cunt as the switch collides with the sensitive, stinging flesh there which such a shocking intensity that your heels rock off the floor and an open sob of distress flees your lips as your teeth bite at your lower lip. Truly suffering, a fat tear rolls free of your right eye and trails down your cheek, tickling the skin there as your hands remain pinned against the wall and unable to wipe it away.

A looming presence behind you makes you tense as Crane drapes his taller frame across your own, the tent of his slacks pressing against your upper hip as his hand drops to run across the various heated welts which decorate your ass and thighs.

“You took that surprisingly well, whore.” He growls into your ear, pressing his fingers roughly into one of the raised welts as you whimper in kind. “I’m slightly disappointed that you held out so well. I was looking forward to painting that skin more thoroughly.”

He pulls away and you drop your hands from the wall, knowing that your punishment is filled, and your fingers shake terribly as they dip the floor to pick up your shirt. Pulling it on, you pause to fix your skirt but don’t bother to try and do the remaining buttons on the shirt as your hands are trembling too much to make such a thing possible.

With blurry eyes, the sharpness taken by the tears which remain, you watch as Crane walks to one of the nearby couches and deposits himself on it roughly. It’s an old-looking couch, worn and frayed around the edges where the fabric has been overused, and the tacky brown shade of it feels very old-fashioned.

“I am tired of helping you, little rabbit, and your discipline has stripped me of some of my energy. Come here.”

As obedient as ever, you walk over to him with soft footsteps, the heat of your abused skin flaring against your shirt with every step. Your eyes glance over to Edward only to see him bent over the work desk, his back fully to you as he tinkered with something mechanical.

“I will not waste more of my effort on you.” Crane announced, pinning you in place with his milky gaze. “You will come and fuck yourself on my cock until I am satisfied.” His hands were quick to release his cock as he spoke, his rock-hard length – the result of his enjoyment of your punishment – standing to immediate attention as he wrapped his fist around the base of it.

Despite your pains, your neglected cunt is wet as hell and you hike your skirt over your hip as you crawl onto his lap, carefully avoiding the metal leg brace as you try to find a position which won’t cause him any discomfort. His body feels very thin beneath your own but he manhandles you well enough as he adjusts his cock against your wettened slit.

He’s in no mood for foreplay and, knowing that your cunt was already stretched out from his earlier fuck, he pulls you down harshly to sink his cock fully between your folds. The sudden fullness draws a moan from your lips as he stretches you out in fell swoop and your cunt clenches around his length. After the pain of your punishment, a little pleasure wasn’t going amiss and you roll your hips across his lap, taking him as deeply as you could as your hands grip to the fraying fabric of the couch in a desperate attempt to chase some pleasure.

His costume is scratchy and uncomfortable against your welted skin, and you focus on the sensation of his cock as you bounce on his lap with a steady rhythm, fucking yourself as instructed.

Closing your eyes for only a moment, a savage pinch of your nipples forces them open as a yelp escapes your lips. His fingers are as rough as ever as he plays with your bouncing tits, pinching and groping at the skin until it’s reddened and extra-sensitive beneath his hands. The fascination he holds with your chest is unabashed and his slender fingers, scarred and hosting jagged nails, torment your skin with a sadistic precision.

“Enjoying yourself, whore?”

Startling at the suddenness of Edward’s voice in your ear, you unleash a short cry and your head tilts back to meet him as he continues.

“Don’t stop on my account. In fact, let me join you.”

His cock brushes along the cleft of your ass and you shiver in anticipation. As part of your preparations, he had insisted on a thorough cleaning but in the heat of the evenings events you had forgotten his earlier insistence.

A crack of a bottle rings out behind you and Crane seems content to remain buried within your cunt as he watches you interact with Edward with a subtle interest, gleaning what little aspects of your dynamic that he can.

Edward’s fingers press against the rim of your ass, and you can feel the coolness of the lube which coats them. He makes quick work of covering your hole before slipping in two fingers for a sudden stretch which takes your breath away. Anal was no stranger between the two of you but it was something which usually was graced with a little more prep and stretch time.

His fingers scissor within you and you tighten your hole around him, a move which draws a growl of pleasure from Crane as you milk his cock with every clench.

You relax as Edward’s fingers pull free and are quickly replaced with the blunted head of his cock pressing against your hole. In one quick thrust, he buries the first few inches within you and your body pushes forward, pressing against Crane as you’re forced to accept him.

It’s pain and pleasure in one; an intense fullness which makes your skin feel as though it’s going to combust as your holes stretch to accept and accommodate both cocks. Prepared enough to ensure no real damage, you were not prepped enough to avoid the hollowing throb of having your ass reamed out and the burning discomfort of your hole draws several small whimpers from your swallowing throat.

Your clit remained woefully neglected, the small sensitive button feeling as though it were aching with its utter lack of attention.

“My work is finished.” Edward grunted, maintaining a rhythmic pace with Crane as their cocks moved in tandem. “Your new leg brace is fully functional and ready for use.”

“Is it coated as requested?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. I will ensure that payment is included in the usual account. As discussed, there is room for a bonus if you would allow me my own session with your little rabbit.”

“Provide me evidence that you won’t break her in the ways I don’t want her broken and then we’ll see about booking an appointment with the good doctor for a private session.”

Both mean speak conversationally, if a little strained, as they continue to fuck and talk about you as if you weren’t there. It’s humiliating and the shame only adds to the hot pleasure which is sweeping across your spine and making your clit throb.

With a vicious growl, Crane indicates for you to move off his cock and you slip him free of your cunt while allowing Edward to continue to thrust against your ass. Fisting himself in hand, Crane’s breathing is erratic as he strokes his cock rapidly, chasing his peak. He hits it after a few moments, his release arcing across your exposed chest as one particularly energetic drop of cum lands as high as your chin, feeling warm against your skin.

He continues to stroke himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm, visibly pleased with having painted you with his release, as his gravelled voice makes more demands of you.

“Leave the mess. I want you to wear the rewards of your services until you’re out of my sight.”

“Yes, Sir.” You stutter out, cunt feeling empty and suddenly neglected by the loss of his cock.

With a careless grunt, Crane pushes you off him to the side as he slinks out from his position beneath your sweat-slicked and cum-stained frame. Luckily, Edward’s grip of your hips was so intense that it didn’t matter much to him as he bent you further over the couch and only fucked you harder as Crane slipped off to inspect his new leg brace.

“Have you come yet, pet?” Edward grunts, the fingers of the hand which isn’t currently pressing into your hip trailing across the welts which decorate your ass.

“No, Sir. Of course not.” You pant out, arching you back to give him easier access to your ass as you carefully bend in such a way to not disturbed the mess of cum which is splattered across your chest.

He hums at your answer and a low scream slips free of your lips as his fingers stroke along your cunt, brushing against your swollen clit like a bolt of pleasurable lightning. His touch is soft and teasing, perfectly circling the sensitive bundle of nerves as he coats his fingers in your juices before returning to your clit.

Demented with the sudden onslaught of pleasure, your orgasm approaches like a freight train and your limbs tremble against the effort of keeping yourself bent over as he expertly pulls you to your peak. Incoherent pleas spill from your lips and your ass clenches around his cock with every thrust.

With a muted cry, your release hits as the tight band of arousal which has been tightening across your groin snaps into a glorious bliss of intense pleasure – the culmination of your various uses and abuses comes to fruition as Edward presses his thumb roughly against your clit to quickly force you into overstimulation. Your vision blurs dangerously for a moment and you feel his body shudder against your own as your desperate clenching pushes Edward over the edge, his release hitting just a few moments after your own.

Overstimulated as he takes out his orgasm on your clit, your scream is low and guttural as every nerve seems to alight across your body. Edward cares little for your plight and you feel the heat of his release painting the inside of your ass with a scorching heat as he rides out his own pleasure.

“Good girl.” Edward pants out and you smile despite everything. He very rarely spoke while fucking, often reserving his long speeches and humiliating praises for the before and after, so you drink in this little change like a woman starved.

Edward pulls free of your ass with an obscene noise that makes fresh heat flare in your cheeks. His hands are quick to wrap around your waist and pull you to your feet, a movement which makes some of his release leak free of your ass and down your thighs as you lean back into his familiar and comforting frame.

“Remember,” he mutters into your ear as his face nuzzles against your sweat-slicked neck, “don’t touch that mess on your chest or I’ll have to let Crane have his way with you.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You look beautiful like this. Fucked out, marked up, and coated – inside and out - with the rewards which you worked so hard for.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You shudder out, enjoying the sensation of his lips on your neck as the adrenaline of your night catches up with you and envelopes you in a fatigue which makes your legs feel like jelly as a slight nausea touches at your throat.

“Let’s go.”

Supporting your body with his own in a possessive way, neither Edward not Crane spare each other another glance as Edward makes to leave. Your skirt is a mess, crumpled and stained by various releases, and your shirt is ruined. However, it’s only a short walk to the car and you know there’s a coat in there which can cover you as you return down to Edward’s own workspace.

As Edward pushes the door open to allow you to pass through, the last thoughts which touch at your mind as you finish up your hard session is to wonder just how much data Edward will need before he lets the Scarecrow play with you once more.

(will upload to AO3 this weekend)

[ageless-aislynn]

Title: “15 Minutes” (9/?) Author:  @ageless-aislynn​ Characters/fandom: Master Chief John-117/Reader, Halo the series Summary: You're in peril but don't be afraid, help is near. Series: How to date a Spartan (without even trying) Rating:  T (PG13) Length: 2,568 (this chapter, 22,261 total so far) Spoilers: Set in the Silver Timeline of Halo the series, not the games or novels. Though we began with the events of Halo 1x06, there will be no more show spoilers. We are still firmly seated in the AU Warthog, merrily driving out to places where there’s only a passing nod to canon. 😉 Trigger warning: claustrophobia Disclaimer: Definitely not mine but I do enjoy borrowing them just for a bit! 😉 A/N:  Text is both here in this post or available at AO3, however you like to read. Halo season 2 has finally arrived! However, this fic continues to zip along in the AU Party Warthog, so, while we began with season 1 way back when (and you’ll see a few more things from s1 along the way 😉), we’ll not be venturing into s2 territory at all. Unless s2 is going to take some verrrrry interesting twists, lol! Chapter 10 is in progress by hand but I hope to have it ready soon. 🤞😣🤞 The tags have been updated for hurt/comfort starting with this chapter. If you read, I hope you enjoy! ⭐💖⭐

Taglist: @pinheadbanger​ @mysardencut​ @laurenstacy610​ @sporadicbelievernightmare​ @ultrablackwidower​ @bxmxtx​ @jellotherelol

If you would like to be tagged in my John/Reader fics, just let me know! I also write John/Kai, John/Cortana and Kai/male Reader, so I’m glad to tag you for whatever you’d like. If you would like to be removed from the taglist, also feel free to let me know, no harm, no foul. 😉 💖

Halo fic masterlist ⭐

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8

Trigger warning again: claustrophobia If you need to avoid the actual scene, skip the entire first section but there will be a lot of mentions of it again through the rest of the chapter, just so you're aware. I don't want to cause any distress to anyone so if you'd like a recap of what happens in this chapter, feel free to contact me here and I'm happy to oblige so you can stay in-the-know without reading something that could trigger a bad reaction. Stay safe, my friends! 🤗

You tried to gasp in a breath but there was a weight pinning you down. Smoke burned your lungs and your eyes. Your left arm couldn't move but you were able to bring your right hand up to wipe your face, trying to clear your vision. The only light in the rubble came from a shower of sparks a few feet away, emitting from a panel half-ripped from the wall. There was very little to orientate yourself by.

"Hello?" you tried to call but you couldn't take a deep enough breath to yell. The muffled ring in your ears told you that at least one of your eardrums had ruptured.

Evaluate, you thought in the tone you used when triaging patients, shoving down a wave of panic. You tried to squeeze out from under whatever was pressed across your back. No good, too much weight.

There wasn't a tremendous amount of pain but you worried at the numbness from your waist down, behind whatever was restraining you.

Evaluate.

You tested moving your legs, your feet, your toes. It felt strange but yes, you had movement.

Spinal cord potentially compromised but not severed, you diagnosed as clinically as possible.

Something overhead gave an alarming groan.

Alert help. Report your position.

"Hello? I'm by the crane operator booth. Can anyone hear me?"

You couldn't get the volume you wanted and you automatically tried to inhale deeper. You couldn't and had to fight another wave of panic. The animal part of your brain wanted to claw the twisted metal of the deck, trying to squirm free, but when you twitched, something above you groaned again.

You had no way to know how perilous the collapsed structure was. A wrong move could bring it all down.

A fresh wave of smoke irritated your nose and you coughed weakly. From far away, you heard the muffled sound of a woman saying your rank and last name.

"Here," you choked out. "I'm here."

A blue light shimmered a few feet away, the lower half of a blue-tinted woman, her upper body phased through the rubble. Then she shrank until she fit the space, adjusting like a camera lens. A hologram.

She repeated your rank and last name. "We have your location," she said, your damaged hearing distorting her voice. "Sit tight, a rescue crew is on their way."

You tried to respond but the smoke triggered more coughing, so you nodded.

"I'll stay with you for as long as the holo-emiter holds," she said, gesturing towards the ruined wall panel that continued to spark.

"Thank you," you managed to say. "Casualties?"

She glanced up and away as if receiving new information. "Reports coming in of injuries but no fatalities. Your alert gave enough time for almost everyone to get clear."

"Good." You made yourself slow your breathing down, taking shallow breaths since you couldn't take deeper ones. For a moment, your head swam and it felt like the floor tipped. Your fingers scratched for a hold on the crumpled metal.

The sound of your rank and name cut through the terror. "You're all right," the woman assured you. "You're not falling. Try to stay still. Silver Team will be back on site in a few more minutes. John will be here soon."

It gave you something to focus on other than bring trapped. The way she knew that the mention of John would comfort you, that she didn't call him Master Chief like most people did, even the mannerism of how she'd looked away, like someone was speaking in her ear...

"Your name wouldn't be Ms. Classified, would it?" you asked haltingly and tried to smile.

"That's... not inaccurate," she said and maybe it was your blurry vision but you could've sworn she gave you a fond smile, like she knew you. "I'm not supposed to tell my name."

You tried to say it was all right but couldn't draw enough breath.

"Ah, screw it," she said. "What are they going to do, fire me? My name is Cortana."

You must've blacked out because the next thing you knew, she was kneeling next to you, her small holographic hand resting atop your outstretched arm as she repeated your rank and name.

If you could get a breath, you needed a good, solid breath. Your chest instinctively fought to expand but couldn't beneath the pressure bearing down on your back. Something above you slid and the pressure abruptly worsened. You clawed, you fought, you struggled to breathe. To live.

"John, get here now! The support beam is failing!"

"Not his fault," you tried to say. "Tell him. Not his--"

Metal screamed and everything went dark.

You woke, grasping at nothing. You still couldn't get a deep breath but this time you were on your back and it felt like someone had laced a corset brutally tight around you.

"Easy there. You're all right," said a deep voice.

Your vision swam and then Spartan Vannak-134 appeared out from the dim lighting. You were still clawing at the air, trying to sit up, and he caught your hand a little awkwardly in his much larger ones.

"Where?" you gasped.

"You're back on Reach, in medical."

Once he said it, details emerged like a black and white picture filling in with color: the beeps of the monitors, the distinctive antiseptic smell. Your hearing was still deadened but not as much as before, meaning they had already begun healing therapies on your eardrums.

Anything you might've wanted to say dissolved like sugar on your tongue before the words could be spoken. Your head seemed too full. I'm drugged, you thought and that was the last thing you knew for a while.

Voices drew you from the murky depths and you tried to open your eyes but couldn't.

"Hold her hand," Vannak said in a quiet rumble. "She likes that."

A new hand gently folded around yours and your fingers instinctively gripped hold.

You woke, feeling the phantom press of metal bearing down on you, forcing the air from your lungs. You tried to sit up, your limbs flailed, uncoordinated and leaden. A second hand closed around yours and a feminine voice began to softly sing, a lullaby in a language you didn't recognize.

The room was blurry but you caught a glimpse of red hair -- Spartan Riz-028. You went under once more, dreaming of music that soothed your fears.

Later, there was a new voice to lure you up from the sticky darkness.

"Poor little thing. She looks so small."

"She'll heal. Hold her hand, it helps."

At some point, you jolted awake to find your hand cradled carefully within Kai's.

"Hey," she said, sitting up straighter in the chair next to the bed. "You need anything?"

Your head felt less stuffed with cotton than before but now that cotton seemed to have been transferred to your mouth. "Water?" you croaked.

She jumped up and returned shortly, carrying a cup with a straw in it. You intended to sit up but a searing pain in your ribs immediately convinced you that was a bad idea and you let her help you by holding the straw to your lips.

"Slowly," she advised.

Once you'd taken a couple of sips, you mumbled your thanks then promptly passed out.

You thought you'd closed your eyes for a brief moment but when they fluttered open, it wasn't Kai sitting in the chair, holding your hand.

As soon as John knew you were awake, he was on his feet, carefully brushing the fingertips of his free hand along the curve of your cheek.

You mouthed his name.

"Rest," he said. "I'm here. You're safe."

For the first time in what seemed like forever, you truly felt as if you were. Your mind let go.

"And how's our favorite mech, the Hero of the Pit?"

"That's not a very heroic name," you confessed, smiling as Maria and then Jamie entered medical.

You were sitting on the side of the bed in generic gray scrubs, waiting for Dr. Savannah to give you final instructions before your release. It had been two days since the explosion. Your hearing had, thankfully, returned to normal. The rest of you... not so much but you were on the mend.

They both gave you careful hugs.

"You look a lot less like you were squashed by a building," Jamie said sincerely and Maria punched his arm. "Hey, that was a compliment!"

"Don't make me laugh," you begged, holding your left side. They'd fused your broken ribs back together but the tissue damage would take longer to resolve. Still, aches, pains, limited motion and all, you knew you were very lucky.

"I hope they're giving you a nice vacation, at least," Maria went on.

"I should be ready for light duty in a week."

"Technically, I said we'd evaluate you for light duty in a week," Dr. Savannah corrected as she entered. "Afraid your friends will have to catch up with you later."

They said their goodbyes and, as they left, you started to stand. The doctor quickly said, "No, you don't. I don't want you walking on that leg."

"It's not broken," you argued.

"Not anymore," she countered. "Stay put. I got you a ride."

"I don't need to be wheeled back to the barracks." You tried to keep your tone confident but the truth was even that little bit of exertion had left you feeling twinges all along your left leg. Your left shoulder throbbed with each heartbeat.

"Well, good thing you're wrong on both counts," she said, winking. "And here he is now."

John came through the door, dressed in his undersuit as if either about to head to the Brokkr stations to have his Mjolnir mounted up or returning from having it removed. You didn't even realize you'd moved to rise again until Dr. Savannah put a practiced hand on your good shoulder to keep you down.

"I'll be sending PT to you twice a day, starting tomorrow," she said. "They'll help you to get your strength and mobility back. Around that, rest. Catch up on your reading, watch some thoroughly trashy movies, and keep your feet up. Not too far up, though. Nothing too strenuous. Make him do all of the work."

That got you to look at her and she waggled her eyebrows.

John cleared his throat slightly, a faint but definite flush creeping up from his collar. "Yes, ma'am."

"All right, see you back in a few days, sooner if anything else develops. You know what to watch for."

It wasn't until she stepped back and John approached that it clicked.

"You're going to carry me?"

"Yes, ma'am," he repeated in a murmur that shivered straight down your spine.

Since your left side had taken the brunt of the damage, he put your right to his chest and cautiously picked you up in a bridal carry. Despite the care, being moved set a thousand things to hurting and your breath hitched as he straightened.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you said, your tone tighter than you would've liked. You thought, I hope nobody sees me being toted around like this, but, as soon as you left medical, you realized that no one was actually looking at you.

I think if Master Chief offered to drop me and pick up any marine, ODST or officer in this hall, they'd be hopping into his arms before I even hit the floor!

At the first turn he made, you realized the rest of it. "This isn't the way to the barracks."

"Nope," he said and you knew him well enough now to see the hint of a smile in his eyes.

You didn't have to wait for further clues, there was only one place, then, that he could be taking you. "How many strings did you have to pull for this?"

"Not as many as you might think," he demurred. "Your actions saved lives."

And they could've blamed you for failing to make sure a bomb hadn't been sent to the Pit in the first place. The curly tailed Warthog had been your responsibility, after all. You'd been curtly informed of all that when they'd debriefed you the first day you'd had your eyes open for more than 15 minutes.

You doubted they'd told that to John, though.

When you reached his room, he maneuvered so to get his thumb on the panel without jostling you too much. The lights came on as he took you through the doorway and then he paused.

"Kai," he rumbled, shaking his head. "She said studies show people heal better with color. I should've known she'd overdo it. Say the word and I'll have her in here clearing this out."

"It's your room," you said, "but personally, I love it."

The duvet on the bed and the pillows on the couch were now a rainbow of jewel tones. A tapestry with a field of sunflowers dominated the wall at the foot of the bed and you could've sworn there was a dusting of diamond glitter shimmering on every wall, sending tiny holographic rainbows through the air in all directions. But the main thing that caught your attention was overhead.

"She put up stars," you said, brightening.

"Ah, that one was actually me," he confessed. "You seemed to really like those in her room so I thought..."

You stretched up in his arms, inhaling a little sharply at the stab of pain in your left side, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I love them, John. Thank you."

A short time later, you found yourself lying on the bed in the darkened room, looking up at those stars. John had profusely apologized for not being able to stay after getting you settled in. He'd turned down the bed so you wouldn't have to, had put your padd close at hand on the nightstand to the right along with a bottle of water and a couple of emergency ration packs in case you got hungry before someone bought you a meal. He'd even procured you a set of unthinkably soft civvies to change into, exactly your size and in your favorite color.

You couldn't imagine that a Spartan had ever taken care of a sick or wounded person before, other than in a battlefield triage situation, so he'd probably found a checklist from somewhere to guide him. His earnestness to make sure he'd done everything right sent warmth flooding through you.

Before he left, he'd paused to kiss the top of your head.

"You know," you said, lifting your chin, "my lips aren't broken."

He hesitated. "The last time I did that, an entire base fell on you."

"Only the warehouse part," you said dismissively, "and there was absolutely no correlation, I promise."

He tried to smile at that but his eyes still showed concern.

"I promise," you repeated more seriously and he exhaled as if about to make a tremendous leap. His kiss was so soft and gentle, it was barely more than a whisper against your mouth.

Once he had left, you'd considered taking Dr. Savannah's advice and watching a holo, reading something on your padd, or doing any number of things to pass the time but ultimately, you'd wanted to appreciate his handiwork.

After all, it wasn't just anybody who could say a Spartan had literally hung the stars for them.

[abyssboo]

Scar time :D

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: Gen

Fandom: 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series

Character: Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar

Additional Tags: Secret Life SMP Setting, Post-Secret Life SMP, Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar Needs a Hug, Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar-centric, Sunflowers, Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Past Character Death, Secret Tasks (Secret Life SMP), Is your task a secret when theres no one around to keep it a secret from?, No beta we die like Scar didn’t

Summary:

Your overarching task is to have at least one stable alliance by the time you die, but you may be given more tasks over the course of the game as well.

Scar almost can’t comprehend what it says. Maybe the overwhelmingly sweet and yellow scent, mixed with all the lonliness, is finally getting to him.

Or; Scar of Sunflower Valley gets an interesting task

(Title is a lyric from the song “River Rushing” by The Crane Wives)

[wwheeljack]

WIP folder game

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Tagged by the wonderful @officialcombaticons for this.

I don't have many fics that are a work in progress, since I am so besot by poor writing motivation, but I have one. Exactly one. That has been sitting and brewing in my docs since I wrote 6k of it in one day in January, and have hardly touched it since. That's my HookAid fic, titled with the most remarkable "HookAid one shot" because fic titles are horrible and impossible, which I insisted on writing with the aspect of when they meet, and trying to make it make sense why Hook would actually like First Aid, rather than just... skipping to them being together. Which means it's, if I'm able to finish it, going to be stupid long and I may have to cut it into chapters lol. A little snippet of it, in case sharing some of it may somehow motivate my unmotivated self:

There was a hint of dullness in his visor though, enough that Hook realized that First Aid likely hadn't refueled since before Megatron had captured him.  “Come with me, I will show you how to use the dispenser.”  First Aid nodded, and quietly followed Hook as the crane returned to his office. He showed First Aid how to use the dispenser, using Hook's ration card. While First Aid was refueling, Hook responded to Megatron, informing him of the Autobot's status until Megatron ended the call.  With a “request” that made Hook’s energon boil. First Aid was still sipping at the cup of energon he'd dispensed when Hook turned to stare him down. Curious, First Aid tilted his helm to the side and watched Hook, his retracted facemask revealing no emotion as he sipped energon through a straw. Hook felt like he was seconds away from an energon fuel line burst. Megatron would be hearing Hook’s many grievances over working with an Autobot. With this seemingly overly kind and friendly Protectobot. Why couldn’t he have found a different solution to the complaints about Hook’s medical bay — invalid as most of them truly were. Hook was an excellent surgeon, even more so considering his lack of training within a prestigious (or any) medical school on Cybertron. The Decepticons should be grateful he hadn’t quit and left Cybertron when the war turned truly sour — than bringing a rival gestalt, and enemy faction member, into his medical bay. Making Hook have to work beside him, as if the Autobot held the same rank as Hook. To let First Aid work on any injured Decepticon who came into the medical bay while Hook watched? Outrageous!

I don't know for whom to tag, or if that includes non fic, but off the top of my head: @menasors, @constructiqueers, @0wldn0, @collisionxcha0s and @eyefocusing ? But no need to do so :)