#& having so many unsolved mysteries right now-

[blujaydoodles]

you wanna talk about stress YOU WANNA TALK ABOUT STRESS? I've stumbled onto a MAJOR conspiracy how bout THAT for STRESS

[x-for-a-y]

gaster's like oh i'm a god i get to decide when you die and i simply have to wonder how much of this is him bluffing/boasting & how much is an actual departure in-lore from the mechanics of the tournament. does he Really decide on a whim when adam gets to die, is he Really the god? or is he aware of the Actual greater power over the tourney's events: the voting process? adam knows about it being a tournament, so a meta-fuckery guy like gaster would be able to, i think, be aware of it a little further. and him being at its whims like that does explain why adam survived at first & hamood was killed, straightforwardly in a somewhat unintriguing way. or are we actually here to take that the events of doatk's story are pretend self-contained, the tournament in-universe is just a facade, and everything is both more & less structured than it looks? the whole alternate universe viewings were already a bit of a look at that. but then weren't dubduo on the verge of figuring out the structure of winning matches vs being eliminated? if adam's losses are always rigged by gaster himself, why have him participate tournament-wise himself, assuming that there isn't a roommate in the first two matches or that adam doesn't escape gonering every time? if adam's weak compared to gaster & gaster is a god over the realm, what's gained from letting him stick around, the results mishap, all that? sure can't wait to see where this goes

[sevikas-biceps]

[TLDR: me attempting to make sense of the Arcane's eldritchness, which sounds ironic in hindsight but hear me out]

Revelation after revelation aside, there are many pieces of foreshadowing that tell us why Viktor's commune wasn't as great as it seemed.

Visually speaking, all the clues are right there.

The first thing we see of the slums of Zaun is this.

Vi, leading their little group, is astonished to find such a thing—and to think that Huck was there, serving as one of its ushers! Huck, who she immediately calls a filthy traitor; having succumbed to shimmer the last time she saw him—meaning he'd turned to Silco both literally and figuratively—what with his use of the drug and the fact that he'd ratted her and Caitlyn out to the tycoon.

Miss Ma'am is bamboozled.

How the hell did he end up there? At this...paradise? At the slums, which, only a few weeks or months ago; was still dark, dusty, violet, and violent!

Something has changed, obviously; and Huck himself admits that his past was him 'at his worst'. Simply awful. But the Herald had saved him. And because of that, he was leading a better life, now. Naturally, at this point, Vi and Jinx seem wary.

There's gotta be a catch, no?

The landscape and the characters exemplify this.

Let's start with the land itself. Look at how empty it actually looks. Yes, there's a field of flowers. Yes, there's a community, teeming with life. Yes, it's literally heaven. But the lighting. The colours. It's so...bleak. Like a dream. The mountains are green, but they're cast in grey and white; and added with the negative space, there's an eeriness to it that contrasts Piltover's version of an eutopia.

You can argue it being the vast resource difference, as Topside is the superior city for a reason, but the commune is still filled with numerous individuals with just as much creativity as their counterparts. Intelligent and sentient beings—people, with minds to set to whatever task may be at hand.

Now, let's think of the people.

The biggest difference between the two communities is this: the 'healed' of Viktor's paradise wear only one mode of dress: white. It's almost uniform—which is notable, as, previously in the episode, Viktor speaks of 'chaos'. We see how fascinated he was by the mess that Vander's psyche had become, and in an attempt at detangling that chaos, he was 'setting things right' inside the man's mind. Bringing him back to something resembling normalcy. Order.

This is particularly significant for the fact that, in the game, he's remembered for his philosophy on glorious evolution (also mentioned in the show, as we know)—which is centred on the enhancement of the human body to transcend its fleshly limits.

Piltover, in contrast—and by extension the 'unhealed' of Zaun—go against this code. We see shimmer addicts, we see corrupt individuals, we see bigoted populations, we see conflict between the cities. We see human nature at its finest. Even the episode titles, all the way from Season 1, display this.

S1E1: Welcome to the Playground S1E2: Some Mysteries are Better Left Unsolved S1E3: The Base Violence Necessary for Change S1E4: Happy Progress Day! S1E5: Everybody Wants to Be My Enemy S1E6: When These Walls Come Tumbling Down S1E7: The Boy Saviour S1E8: Oil and Water S1E9: The Monster You Created S2E1: Heavy is the Crown S2E2: Watch It All Burn S2E3: Finally Got the Name Right S2E4: Paint the Town Blue S2E5: Blisters and Bedrock S2E6: The Message Hidden Within the Pattern

Again, human nature. Colourful, tumultuous, unsynchronised. A need for knowledge. A need for violence. A need for change. A need for exploration. A need for control. Everything that we can have, we take.

That's the point of Viktor's quote:

I understand now. The message hidden within the pattern. The reason for our failures in the commune. The doctor was right—it's inescapable. Humanity. Our very essence. Our emotions—rage, compassion, hate. Two sides of the same coin, inextricably bound. That which inspires us to our greatest good is also the cause of our greatest evil.

It's a paradox.

This is a sophisticated conjuration. A singularity, simultaneously self-replicating and self-annihilating.

He wasn't just talking about the Arcane. It wasn't just about that 'voice' he and Sky heard when gazing at Jayce through Salo's eyes. It's also about humanity.

So, how does that relate to his commune?

Here's the thing: it looks like heaven, but later on, when Viktor dies and everyone else follows, it's practically limbo. It's liminal. Initially, you only have the vague sense that there's something off about it, but you can't tell what. It's filled with people, yet at the same time, it looks like it shouldn't have any to begin with. Mysterious. Suspicious. Almost dreadful; something that makes you realise: if you think about it too hard, you'd drive yourself insane.

There's something intrinsically natural about the commune, something untouched by human hands; but there's also something intrinsically human about it, something unnatural, cultivated in a way nature itself cannot replicate. That's the catch. It should be a balance of both. An ideal community would show this.

Viktor's connection to the Hexcore tells us that he's, in part, transcended both humanity and the natural world. He's breached the ineffable and the incomprehensible, and brought it into the existence(s) of those who could know of and experience it. Bringing 'paradise' to those who were never meant to realise what it was. Forcing onto them the Arcane, even when done with the best intentions.

For the suffering Zaunites, they have everything they could possibly want: food, water, shelter, rest, belonging, peace, survival; the life that they once could only dream of having. It's perfect. They don't have to be in pain, not anymore.

But the commune is isolated. This is very much seen in the gate symbolism: all are welcome, but once inside, you'll never want to leave. You'll never have to. Because to be cured by the hands of the Herald means to bear his mark. To be saved is to bind yourself to him.

The open archway is also a taunt: the gate is open, it'll always be open, but would you ever risk going back out? Would you really trade this for anything else?

Are you truly willing to leave paradise? Are you truly willing to part with the Arcane?

The Arcane, which had given them everything they'd yearned for through Viktor.

Now, see here: Vi catches a glimpse of Singed exiting Viktor's abode. It's presumably the healing tent, as his main 'bubble' (the place where he 'recharges', so to speak) is the one in the distance.

The point is: Vi sees Singed leave the healing tent. What makes this suspicious is the fact that the man left unhealed.

Note that, prior to this point, the sisters have reconciled and were even willing to stay in this little underground haven despite their initial scepticisms. They, just like everyone else, have been lulled into the comfort the commune provided. So, to see someone else suddenly exiting Viktor's watch—someone with no traces of the Herald's touch, someone who's still bandaged and deformed—is a wake-up call.

Why else would you go into the healing tent, to the commune, if not to have yourself cured or seek respite? Why is this man, who'd obviously be easier work to deal with compared to Vander, not 'saved'?

Vi follows him. Then, Singed leaves the commune entirely.

In her eyes, someone had willingly turned away from 'paradise'.

Logically, this begs the question: Why?

Because that's where the fantasy ends.

Right as Vi comes to the gate, the camera cuts to that Noxian spear upfront. A threat to the 'perfection' that existed within the borders. A reminder that the world outside still exists; a world that Viktor hasn't touched in its entirety, a world that still begs to be saved, a world that is still human at its core brimming and simmering.

That's the reason Viktor's named a herald: he's an omen. He'd brought about a transformation to those he healed. To the slums. Providing a drastic shift in people's lives (or whatever 'life' still counted for those he'd influenced) that left many devastated when Jayce blew a hole in his chest.

By spreading the use of the Arcane through other agents (again, the 'healed'), he essentially reproduced the effects of the power that he had at his disposal, while at the same time allowed himself to better comprehend how the Arcane worked—and by extension, allowed that very power to adapt.

But at the same time, he himself is also the key to undoing it.

From Jayce and Ekko, S2E3:

Viktor hypothesised that there may be something he called 'wild runes'. Patterns that occur naturally when the border between our world and the Arcane is thin. Runes like the ones you use in Hextech. What's the difference between those and wild runes? Pass me a tome. So, I used words you understood in order to elicit your action. This is what Hextech runes are. Pass me a tome. Pass me a tome! There—you sighed. Still a kind of language. A sound, but not words. Something raw; natural. That's wild runes. In most places, the Arcane is dormant—but here and there, it's more active. Wild runes are— —sort of like its fingerprints. Exactly! ...so, you're telling me: that pattern is on my tree, because you pissed the Arcane off with all your demands?

Viktor being infused with the Hexcore—which we can reasonably assume is a wild rune, as can also be seen with its matrix—makes it so that he himself acts as what a Hextech rune would do to it (the Hexcore). Through Viktor, the Arcane is refined, and in a process that doesn't completely destabilise (compared to pure Hextech, as can be seen with the weapons). For Viktor to lose control or to be harmed means making that magic either go wild (the weapons) or make it dissipate (the commune).

That's why the fantasy 'ends' at the entrance of the commune: anything past that is out of Viktor's reach, and remains 'untouched' by the Arcane.

From Jinx, S1E5:

So, all about these runes: they form some sort of mathy, magicky gateway...to the realm of heebie-jeebies. And this turns it on!

Say it again: the runes make a gateway. The Hexcore was a rune matrix, an array of wild runes that formed a singular entity. An entity which is now 'one' with Viktor. It means being the 'Herald' is also being the 'gateway' for the Arcane. The traditional role of a herald is to proclaim and carry messages; we don't know what message the Arcane itself wants to send, but we do know for a fact that Viktor is at least doing its work in creating that commune in the slums of Zaun.

From Singed, S1E6 & S2E6:

The mutation must survive. You must survive, Viktor.

The Machine Herald himself is self-replicating and self-annihilating. He can 'cure' the afflicted, thus infusing the Arcane into other individuals and replicating its structure inside them. And at the same time, the Arcane is also what 'kills' him—with Jayce using (what looked to be a mutated version of) the hexcrystal of his hammer to blow through Viktor's chest, where we know the Hexcore was placed during Jayce's revival of him in Act 1.

This is why the commune, despite its purpose as a safe haven, also exists as a place of great danger. Why it really isn't all That™, even despite Viktor creating it as a safe space for many.

See this exchange between Vi and Jinx:

This place...do you think it could actually work? Underground utopia, run by a skinny tin Machine Herald. Maybe when Piltover slides into the Sump.

Jinx was right in calling it for what it is, despite the words being in jest. A utopia. Working 'when Piltover slides into the Sump'.

It's an impractical scheme. Too perfect. Too good to be true.

An impossibility.

Do you believe in fate, Doctor? Our paths carved before us. Guided by an invisible hand? Not fate. Evolution. Nature's greatest force, forever in flux. No. Evolution has a destination. Not to combat nature, but to supersede it. The final, glorious evolution. But he isn't a specimen—he's a man. And he needs my help. I will not sacrifice his humanity for your cause. You may leave. Very well. But I assume you understand already: if you perish, this community is soon to follow.

Viktor understands. He understands. He just wasn't ready to admit it to himself when Singed said it.

I understand now. The message hidden within the pattern. The reason for our failures in the commune. The doctor was right—it's inescapable. Humanity.

Human nature and human essence aren't self-sustaining. That's why the Arcane was so effective in 'healing' all those people. Their humanity hampered them from healing themselves; both in the sense of the human bodily condition (the limits of the physical self), and in the sense of humaneness (of empathy, of choice). The human body cannot survive its own traumas without an artificial means of a cure (case in point: Vander). And the Arcane acted as its solution.

Mere instinct doesn't let you live—you need to learn how to direct your life after survival. To adapt. To grow. Humanity, self-replicating and self-annihilating; the escape from that cycle, that's the glorious evolution Viktor speaks of.

A utopia. Impossible and impractical. Humanity: that which inspires us to our greatest good, and the cause of our greatest evil.

[ladykailitha]

The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 14

Here we are again at the end. I'm sad to see this one go. It was a real challenge to see if I could write heavier smut and the answer is "eh, so-so". There should have been more nudity and sex in this thing than there was, but after the fight with Tumblr over the stripper tag I just gave up trying to even tag things properly anymore. Because of the fucking purity police.

But this gets racy. As racy as I get.

So thanks for one hell of a ride!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13

~

Steve flopped on their sofa with a whine. “Robin... dancing with him just the two of us is going to kill me. I just know it.”

Robin looked over at him from the kitchen with an impressed eyebrow. “You know who to blame.”

“Chrissy,” they said together.

“If she had been dating you,” Steve huffed, laying lengthwise on the sofa and putting his right arm behind his head, “this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Hey!” she protested. “There is no way that that literal goddess is ever going to date a peon like me.”

Steve lobbed a pillow straight at her head. “Only one of us gets to mope at a time, and it’s my turn. Plus you aren’t a pee-on or whatever it was you called yourself. I bet she thinks you’re hot.”

Robin came over with the two bowls of stew she had reheated and handed one to Steve, who promptly sat up straight so she had a place to sit.

“There is no fucking way,” she huffed around a bite of carrot. “Did you see the way she danced with the new Wrath? Micaela has all the right moves, who would want me when they could have that?”

Micaela looked like a Greek statue come to life. She perfect olive toned skin, deep brown eyes and the perfect pout to her lips. She was also married to a guy named Paul, who did construction for a living and didn’t care about the stripping as long as it made her happy.

“I’m pretty sure Paul would take issue with that,” he huffed. “Besides, I’ll make a bet. I’ll ask her tomorrow if she thinks you’re hot and when I win, you have to do laundry for the next month.”

Robin shrieked in outrage. “There is no way, Mr. Clothes Horse that I am going to wash that many clothes for a month.”

“Oh so you agree,” Steve said batting his eyelashes, “that you know she thinks you’re hot?”

She began sputtering and squawking, finally she settled down with her stew and very mumbled, “Curses foiled again.”

Steve kissed her cheek and turned on “Unsolved Mysteries”.

“This show was creepier in the eighties,” she huffed. “Now most of the time it’s just supernatural shit. Robert Stack would appalled.”

Steve waved her off, “Shush! I want to hear about the Chicago Moth Man.”

~

Steve bounded up to Chrissy the next day, grinning from ear to ear. “Hey-ya, hot stuff!”

Chrissy threw her head back and laughed. “What’s happening, yourself, you goober?”

“So...” he began, rocking back on his heels and then back on his toes, “so I have this bet with Robin. If I win she has to do the laundry for a month and if she wins, I have to tell Eddie I like him.”

“Oohh,” Chrissy said, rubbing her hands together, “I almost want to see you lose so you have to tell him. What’s the bet?”

“That you don’t think she’s hot. I said you do, she thinks you don’t.”

Steve smirked as he saw the complete indecision warring on her face. “Damn it.” She stomped one foot dramatically. “That’s really not fair, Steve...”

His grin widened and he knew he had won. “I’ll tell you what, you let me win the bet and I’ll have you help choreograph a dance that will knock all of Eddie’s clothes right off.”

“Tell Robin that not only do I think she’s hot,” Chrissy said returning his grin, “but also tell her to be ready next Tuesday at seven, because I’m taking her out on a date.”

Steve gave her a fist bump and walked away, back to where a very anxious Robin stood, twisting a cloth napkin to death.

“I win,” he said smugly, “and you have a date on Tuesday at seven. Dress nice, but not fancy.”

Robin sputtered and stammered. “I would have thought at the very least she would have gone my way if for the very reason one of you to boneheads needs to say something because even long time regulars are starting to notice the friction between the two of you will light this place on fire.”

“Oh I totally bribed her,” Steve said, smirk never faltering for a moment, “I told her she could help choreograph a dance to actually seduce Eddie.”

“You are so smug,” she said through gritted teeth, pinching his cheek. “I don’t have anything to wear, you know this right?”

Steve waved her off, smacking her hand away. “Go on a shopping trip, it’s not like you’re broke. Hell, we’ll go tomorrow before work. Make you the prettiest butch lesbian there ever was.” He patted her cheek firmly. “Now, I’m going to go shake my ass.”

He walked off as Chrissy walked up to her. “Hey, gorgeous,” she purred, “I’m assuming Steve told you about our date?”

Robin nodded, eyes wide. “I didn’t know you thought that about me.”

Chrissy leaned over the counter, putting her boobs on display. She played with one of Robin’s many necklaces. “I thought that when you got hired, sweetie. This is just me finally taking the plunge.”

She licked her lips slowly as Robin’s cheeks turned bright red, causing her freckles to really stand out.

“Oh.”

Chrissy chuckled. “Such a pretty little thing. I think you have me a disadvantage, Robin.”

“How’s that?” Robin asked, amazed it didn’t come out as complete gibberish. Her cheeks were flushed and she couldn’t even see straight, every fiber of her being was focused on that single point of contact where Chrissy had a hold of her necklace.

“You’ve seen me naked and covered in chocolate sauce,” Chrissy purred, “and I was curious to see if that was on offer.”

How Robin didn’t immediately devolve into a complete buffoon, she had no idea. “Never on the first date.” She almost squeaked when she realized the words that had just come out of her mouth. That’s it. This wasn’t Hellfire Club, this was Heaven. She had died. Clearly.

“Duly noted,” Chrissy said, straightening up. “You’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?”

Robin nodded and Chrissy waved goodbye over her shoulder. Joe who was the head waiter and her boss patted her on the shoulder.

“Don’t take it too personally,” he said with a huff of laughter. “I’ve seen lesser lesbians turn into gibbering hound dogs when she does that. She’s just a softy, really, she just also loves to blue screen the hell out of potential dates.”

Robin turned to him. “Why is that?”

“Because she wants to set the expectation that she is a stripper,” Joe said with a shrug. “She’s good at her job and she isn’t going to quit for anyone. So if she goes super sexual out of the gate and the person doesn’t mind it, then she knows it’s a safe bet.”

“Oh.”

That made more sense than it didn’t. But now she had figure out how to date the hottest woman Robin had ever met. No pressure.

Right?

~

To say Steve was nervous would be an understatement. He was about to turn an already sexually charged dance between him and Eddie and turn the dial all the up to eleven. He’s not even sure if it could be called “simulated” sex, when they were both going to get naked for a crowd, but it was definitely going to be something.

He had been slowly ramping up the tension between him and Eddie with each week and it was the last Saturday of the month and he was about to blow something. Eddie’s mind or his fucking job.

He really, really hoped it wasn’t his job.

They did their trio dance and Lilith slunk off stage, leaving behind Lucifer and Samael. The looks they were giving each other could have set that stage on fire. Steve was already most of the way red and his wings were tattered. It would not take much for Samael to fall. And fall tonight, he most certainly would.

Steve started out slow. He wanted to make Eddie come to him. He ran his hands all up and down his chest. One hand went up to his throat while the other dipped to press the heel of hand against his aching erection.

The moaned he released was not faked.

Both hands touched his cheeks and then dug into his hair, his hips thrusting out. The audience was hooked but the person he wanted was Eddie.

Lucifer watched with hooded eyes as Steve made love to himself. Then the water fell on Steve’s head and he ripped off his top. The wings were skeletal now, the last bit of feathers having been washed away with all the white.

He was standing there in red boots and g-string, head back and chest out.

The growl from Eddie was primal and Steve wasn’t sure if it was Lucifer or Eddie who made the sound.

But it didn’t matter, it did the job.

Eddie stalked across the stage and pulled their bodies flush together. He lifted one of Steve’s legs up and unzipped the boot, gently pulling it off. That leg went tightly around Eddie’s waist and he did the same with the other leg.

Soon Steve was only wearing the g-string, completely wrapped around Eddie, who was still fully dressed.

With his hand firmly on Steve’s back, Steve lowered himself backwards, arching his back, like those Renaissance painting of fallen angels and deposed saints.

With his free hand Eddie ripped off the harness with the wings tossing them aside to be picked up by one of the other dancers. Then that hand slid over Steve’s chest, down to the front of Steve’s thong and ripped that off as well.

The gasp from the audience and then the roar when Eddie tossed at them was loud.

Not that Steve could hear them over the rush of blood to his head. He wasn’t sure if it was entirely due to hanging upside down or the fact that the only thing that separated him from Eddie was the leather pants he wore as Pride.

Steve wrapped both arms around Eddie’s neck and began to grind against him.

Eddie forcibly set him down and pushed him away.

Steve had nothing to worry about because he knew this was part of the dance and turned toward the patrons.

He danced, reveling in his now naked form, showing off and simpering to the crowd. Then he’s yanked back, into Eddie’s arms.

He smirked and pushed Eddie away, turning back to the crowd. Eddie yanked on his arm again but instead of pulling him close, he pushed him to ground.

Steve stared up at him, propped up on his elbows as he scooted away from Eddie, toward the edge of the stage.

Eddie pulled on his tear away leather pants, leaving him only in the black combat boots he wore.

He stood, straddled over Steve and then knelt on one knee, running his hands over Steve’s torso and then pushed him all the way to ground.

Steve’s arms came up and his hands roamed over Eddie’s legs and ass. Eddie’s other knee hit the stage with a loud thump, causing the audience to jump. They were that enthralled with what was going on on stage.

Eddie slithered down Steve’s body and they both moaned together.

Steve was no longer sure where his body ended and Eddie’s started. It was like they were one.

Eddie stood up and as he straightened, he flipped Steve so he was on his stomach. He knelt back over Steve’s prone body and lifted his head by his hair. Steve knew to rise with it so it didn’t actually hurt, but fuck it was sexy as hell.

And the crowd thought so too.

Steve rose on his arms, stretching his back, like a mermaid pose, head back. Then he went straight down again slapping the stage to make it sound harder than it was.

He rolled over and looked up at Eddie. Eddie beckoned him to him and Steve followed, hypnotized. Entranced.

They danced together, their bodies moving as one.

Then with the dying beats of the song, Eddie dipped Steve, kissing him firmly on the mouth.

The audience went...well wild was too tame a word. Feral. They went absolutely feral.

Someone handed them garters for them put on and get money stuffed into. Once all the money that was stuffed the garters and thrown on the stage was gathered up, Steve and Eddie stumbled into Eddie’s office/dressing room.

Mouths and hands everywhere as they tried to touch as much as possible. As they were already naked or mostly there all it took was a quick tumble onto the sofa and they were really going at it.

“Baby,” Eddie huffed. “I was so hard, I almost came twice.”

Steve moaned underneath him. “Only twice? God if I didn’t have an ex-boyfriend who liked edging me I would’ve come several times.”

Eddie propped himself up on his elbows to look Steve in the eye. “We going to unpack that later when we are both sane again, but for right now I need to see you come!”

“Deal!” Steve cried as Eddie ground down.

The sex was short and explosive, as they had been turned on pretty much from the get go.

Eddie collapsed against Steve’s cum covered chest causing him to let out a pained huff.

“Where the fuck did you learn to dance like that?” Eddie complained. “Have you been holding back on me?”

Steve chuckled. “I had Chrissy help choreograph that in exchange for getting her a date with Robin.”

“That sneaky little minx,” he said with a fond shake of his head. “She is in so much trouble for that.”

“Hey,” Steve protested. “It worked didn’t it?”

There was silence for a beat.

“It did work, right?” he asked shyly.

Eddie raised his head to look him in the eye. “I guess that depends on your end game, if I’m honest.”

“I’m in love with you, Eddie,” Steve said his voice shaking just a little with the raw emotion of it all. “I want to take you dates, I want to wake up next to you, I want to know how you take your eggs so I can make you breakfast in bed. I want it all, with you.”

Eddie sat up and pulled Steve with him. “I want that too. I’m love with you, too. I’ve always been attracted to you. You’ve been nothing but kind to Chrissy, you defended my club against Nancy and Jason, you made it possible for me to really turn this club into something really special. It was good before you came, but you made it great. Of course I want to be your boyfriend, Stevie. I’d be upset if you didn’t want that, too.”

Steve surged forward and kissed him firmly on the lips. “Okay.”

Steve really didn’t feel like walking through the throng of people waiting to get paid, so Eddie loaned him some clothes.

When Eddie opened the door everyone cheered.

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie huffed. “Just remember I’m still your boss. Speaking of which, let’s get you people paid.”

Jeff and Chrissy came forward the locked box and the tip jar. Eddie counted the money, but instead of Steve on the other side of the desk like he used to do, Steve sat on the corner of the desk watching Eddie work.

After everyone had gotten paid they all shuffled out except Robin, Chrissy, and Jeff.

“Nice to see you two finally worked it out,” Jeff said with a huff of laughter. “I was about to embarrass the hell out of Eddie if something didn’t change by tonight.”

Eddie shuddered. “Glitter and stickers. So many stickers.”

Jeff grinned broadly.

Robin handed Steve a bag. “This has all your stuff in it, like your clothes, wallet, cell phone, and keys. I don’t want to see you home until sometime tomorrow.” She cocked her head to the side. “Mainly because I’m making out with my girlfriend tonight and really don’t want you there.”

She winked at him and then grabbed Chrissy’s wrist and hauled her out of there. Chrissy squawked and wave goodbye, yelling her congratulations over her shoulder as she was dragged along.

“And that’s me out of here, too,” Jeff said jutting his thumb at the retreating pair. “I’ll catch you guys tomorrow.”

Once everyone was gone, Steve smiled down at Eddie.

“Tomorrow,” he said wistfully. “I like the sound of that.”

“I like the sound of an infinity of tomorrows,” Eddie replied.

“Me too.”

They kissed again and walked out to their cars. Steve followed Eddie to his apartment, and just like in the rest of Eddie’s life, just never really left.

Soon he was spending most of his time over there, sometimes for sex, but mostly just being himself.

One Tuesday night when they were curled up on the sofa, Eddie asked him to move in for real.

“I’d really like that,” he murmured against Eddie’s lips.

Steve thought back to that fateful day when Robin came home from getting the job at the club, telling him that a dancer position just opened up and they were desperate. He hadn’t really stripped in a long time, the stripper-cize classes excluded. Those really weren’t the same thing as actually stripping.

But money was running out and he was out of options. So he auditioned using that silly song, hoping to stand out just enough to get the job.

And it instead changed his life.

“I love you, my little devil,” Steve purred.

Eddie’s returning smile was blinding. “And I love you too, angel.”

They kissed happily in their ever after.

~

Tag List: STORY COMPLETE!

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @gloomysoup @micheledawn1975

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @garden-of-gay

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff @dolphincliffs @chameleonhair

10- @themoonagainstmers @novelnovella

[diiaf]

Paranatural Theory: It's All Connected

Paranatural fans, how are we feeling?

I’m a bit late to the Peekaboo party, but in light of the latest reveal, I’m taking the opportunity to put my harebrained theory of everything out into the world. The evidence is tenuous, but if I was right about Peekaboo, then maybe there’s something to it–and the confirmation that Peekaboo is (somehow) connected to the wight is just more evidence.

Here’s my theory:

Peekaboo, Sandman, and the Shadow Spirit are all parts of Mayview’s Great Wight that broke apart after Spender [edit: and Davy, see the bottom of the post] shattered it. That Wight... is Boss Leader.

Let me explain.

Part 1: The Connections

this is 7 parts long so I put in a read more, click at your own risk

(I made this image before the latest chapter reveal but I don’t feel like editing it)

Tendrils: As seen in the merch store sticker, Peekaboo seems to have the same tentacle-y powers that Boss Leader does. Spender’s shadow also uses tendrils, albeit the shadows of tendrils. Is this just a hallmark of Wight powers, as suggested by King Catnine, or is there something more? I’ll elaborate on this later.

Black Tears: Peekaboo seems to have the same darkness inside that that shadow spirit does. It’s been pointed out that Peekaboo could fit neatly inside the hole in Spender’s Shadow’s face—maybe Spender’s blast separated the part from the whole. Spender drips this same black ooze from his eyes, as seen after he wakes from the dream where he met Dr. Burger and Sandman. That’s important for later.

Same Pose: Peekaboo and the Shadow are peeking out from behind their medium in the exact same pose. Coincidence? …yeah, maybe. But why does the Shadow have its left eye here? Why is it in the shape of a mask? A crescent moon? A human mask? What moon-shaped creature would want to appear human? I’ll get to that later.

Wrrrrr: Again, I made this image before it was confirmed that Davy somehow had Peekaboo’s powers, but that was obvious, what with their space warping using the same sound effect. However, Dimitri uses Peekaboo to warp himself, whereas Davy warps the space around him (unless maybe he warped his chin? He looks pretty different from his first appearance). So maybe Peekaboo isn’t all that’s in the locker.

Why do Davy and Dimitri have access to different applications of the same power? Peekaboo's spirit trance Halloween decorations resemble the PTA members, which it could see if it were somehow Davy's spirit too. What’s odd to me is that the Burgers' key didn’t seem like it would fit into the locker—did it open up the dream door? Is that door “real?” Real in the spirit world? Maybe that’s why the locker’s padlock has an eye on it: because the real keyhole is kept in Boss Leader’s dream, behind the door that the Witch eventually summons. Lots of unanswered questions here.

Sand: The locker is either buried in sand, or rising up from it. Sandman seems to rise up from the sandpit in the dream in much the same way. Knowing that Peekaboo is the locker spirit is more evidence that there’s a connection between Peekaboo and Sandman.

Moon Motif (there’s no yellow text highlight): Spender’s shadow is shaped like a crescent moon. Sandman’s whole design is crescent moons. This ties into some other things that I’ll explain later.

🏳️‍⚧️: Sandman is Boss Leader. Sandman didn't choose its name. Boss Leader is the name and form she prefers. Do I really have to spell this one out? I'll address this more in part 2.

To recap: Peekaboo, Sandman, and the Shadow all share some important aspects, namely reality-warping powers and design motifs. Peekaboo seems to be the spirit in Davy's locker, a.k.a. the Great Wight, that was also sealed behind the door in the Consortium's dream.

Part 2: Large Subterranean Insect

How many people remember this thing?

It swoops in for ONE PAGE, saves Max from falling off the ghost train, and departs. Paranatural’e biggest unsolved mystery… until now.

Suitsie Zipper: The Large Subterranean Insect appears on chapter, 4 page 105 to save Max. Boss leader shows up for the first time 8 pages later in Max’s dream. The zipper on the insect’s body resembles the zippers on the consortium’s suitsies. Could the insect merely be a consortium agent? Maybe, but it’s a spirit, not a medium, and all the agents are mediums.

Crescents: Look at Sandman’s head. It’s the same shape as the LSI’s spiky legs. Now look at Spender’s spirit’s tendrils! Have we been confusing insect legs for squid tentacles this whole time?

Granted, when the spirit breaks loose and attacks Max and Isabel on page 138 the tendrils are more octopus-like, but Boss Leader’s dream-tendrils are squiddy as well. The spirit is spiky, the powers are squishy? I know this is a stretch.

Injury: Why does the LSI have that red mark? The Paranatural wiki claims that it's an eye. Maybe. If you ask me, it looks like a scar. A scar shaped like the sparkles that Spender makes when he uses Lucifer’s light powers. When Spender blasted the Lake Spirit (stripping away a shadowy disguise?) maybe it left a scar…

Reddit user DeadMountainDaughter made the connection between BL and the LSI (and compiled a lot of other information that inspired this theory) in a post on the Paranatural subreddit 5 months ago, so credit to her for that.

We know for sure that Boss Leader isn't human. The tragic backstory that she tells Spender and Mina about being forced into eternal slumber is (probably) complete bunk. As King Catnine discovers, "Boss Leader" is the conjured-up puppet of the Wight known as Sandman. Sandman, however, is not the name it chose. Its preferred form, and name, is that of Boss Leader. Can a spirit have gender dysphoria? The answer seems to be yes. Moreover, Sandman's Wight Wail is "PLEASE DON'T BE SCARED." She wants people to like her! She wants to be human! But she can't have that anymore. Not since...

Part 3: The Incident

Using the evidence we’ve been given so far, here’s my interpretation of the hidden background of Paranatural:

Boss Leader is a Wight with the power to mold reality. Out of a fascination/jealousy/love for humanity, she shapes, protects, and sustains Mayview. To protect humans from dangerous spirits, and to fight powerful spirits like Lucifer and King Catnine, she maintains the Activity Consortium.

Thirteen years before present-day Paranatural, something happens: the "unexplained paranatural event 13 years ago" that everyone keeps referring to. This is the event that earned Spender his reputation as the "strongest spectral," where he "defeated" the strongest spirit with a single burst of light. What else do we know about this event? That it was the day that Lucifer came to claim the Mayview Wight's power.

Lucifer was one of "the others" that coveted the Wight. We know Lucifer can cross through the barrier as pure light—Spender uses their spirit fusion to do just that when facing King Catnine. What if he entered Mayview to face the Wight, and was defeated, hopelessly outmatched. His wisp possesses the nearby Richard Spender. The Wight, donning her shadowy human disguise, reaches for Lucifer, who is now possessing Spender.

Spender and Lucifer, or maybe Lucifer possessing Spender, shoots a blast of light. With that blast, something breaks. The part of Boss Leader that can shape reality and the part of her that can shape dreams are split. The part left in reality, broken by Spender’s blast, possesses Spender as the shadow. The fragment that was blasted free (Peekaboo) possesses Dimitri, who is one year old at the time. Dimitri "first became a spectral as an infant" (ch7 pg144), and Peekaboo seems stuck in a childlike mental state. Peekaboo is a ghost, so it makes itself look like a child's idea of a ghost.

Without the Peekaboo part, the Shadow can’t mold the physical world, only shadows. Cut away from the Shadow, Peekaboo loses its identity, reinventing itself according to Dimitri's childhood imagination. Without the ability to shape the physical world, Boss Leader can only manifest her human “self” in dreams. Her insectoid spirit hides below ground, hiding her true form, unable to show herself to humans without frightening them. She can no longer control the part of herself that shapes the real world, and can no longer wear her disguise: the shadowy mask that now possesses Spender.

The part of Boss Leader that can shapeshift in the real world is still there, but it's out of her control. If woken, it would rampage. She "locked it in nightmares," nursed it as a grudge, but she's missing some piece of the puzzle. Little does she know that part of that missing piece has been in Rick Spender all along...

Also: Peekaboo's floor is literally made of puzzle pieces! I know that's in reference to the foam floor tiles that you put down in a kid's room, but it has to mean something. Coincidence? ...yeah, maybe. But I think Peekaboo is the missing piece from the Shadow's mask.

Part 4: King Catnine

This friggin’ guy.

One person in Mayview knows where the Great Wight is—in fact, he’s known all along. Why did Isaac nearly electrocute Dimitri? Why did Catnine amplify Isaac’s shot towards the Hijack-controlled Spender? Because he recognized the power that they possessed, or rather, that was possessing them: the power of a wight. I'm sure he'll have his moment someday.

Part 5: The Locker

When the locker was first shown, the Paranatural fandom exploded trying to decipher the meaning behind its stickers. Was the ghost Peekaboo? Was the Vampire Davy? Was the "zzz" Sandman? Why was the werewolf there? What about the star- was Starchman involved?

The answer is yes, to everything.

I posit that some of the stickers represent the “paranatural” elements of Mayview. Vampires, werewolves, an “unusually high population of ghosts and spirits” (Valerie Day, ch5 pg144), while the burger and sticky note are more pertinent to the locker spirit’s current situation. The wight shapes reality, and these things are its reality—Mayview’s reality. As I’ve already stated, I think the eye on the padlock represents how the real padlock is hidden away in a dream, literally "locked in nightmares." Boss Leader sure has a lot of eye motifs.

(I don’t actually know about the star. Maybe that reflects how Starchman stars are a real, valued currency in the school? Zack’s master plan continues to elude me)

There's another version of this theory. Davy claims that he once "shared the same prison" as the spirit in the locker. Davy, as far as we know, is the oldest vampire in Mayview, and he wasn't yet a vampire when the Consortium defeated the Great Sphinx. What if Mayview's werewolves and vampires, and even their spirits, all come from the sleeping wight's dream-world? The same place that the Doctors Burger were sent, and where Dave Jones may have been sent on his final mission for the Consortium. The Doctors are still there. Davy, however, cut his way out. I'll get to that in a minute. First, look at this passage from the latest chapter:

Where have we seen a boat before?

Where Doctor Burger is, in the Wight’s dream! The lake is where everything went down thirteen years ago, and it's where the fragment of the sleeping Wight still slumbers. But what does this have to do with Boss Leader, if she's also that big insect?

This paragraph from Chapter 8, page 61 is my smoking gun:

Insects flushed from hiding? Dredged up from the depths to be dissected on sands? Wow, that sounds familiar.

Davy Jones once worked for the Consortium, under Boss Leader. For whatever reason (maybe he tried to usurp her? maybe she just sent him on a mission gone wrong), she "let him go" from the consortium, cut off his hand (now Lefty) and sealed him away in the sleeping Wight's dream. Davy, with Cryptide's help (the grudge he held), cut his way out—and maybe cut off some of the wight's space-warping abilities to keep for himself. That last bit is pure speculation; I still don't know exactly how Davy and Dimitri both have access to Peekaboo, and that's my best guess.

Part 6: LOOK AT ME

I know what you're thinking: "Sandman can't be the Wight! Their wails are different!" I hear you, and I propose an answer.

Firstly, who said that a Wight can only have one wail? On the chapter cover, the wail is preceded by a monologue that culminates in the spiral of pure emotion. Secondly, assuming that Sandman and the Sleeping Wight are two parts of the same spirit, if the Sleeping Wight was the mask that Boss Leader showed to the world, no wonder its basic desire would be to be perceived. Put them back together, and all the Great Wight wants is for people to see it without being scared.

(it's all very biblical angel "BE NOT AFRAID," isn't it?)

Peekaboo, in its childlike state, is left with the basic desire to be looked at, played with, and given attention. Spender's shadow, meanwhile, just flails, lashing out to grab people.

Moreover: IS THAT NOT SANDMAN'S EYE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CHAPTER COVER?? BOSS LEADER IS THE WIGHT I SWEAR

Part 7: Maybe I'm Wrong

Maybe Sandman isn't the Great Wight after all. Peekaboo and the Shadow are certainly related, and I'm convinced that Boss Leader is an insect, but maybe all wights can use those monstrous tendrils. In that case, I have two alternate theories:

One: Maybe Boss Leader was just using the Wight, puppeting it, controlling it through its dreams to shape Mayview while it slept. Davy says that he lent his hand to "your dream," i.e. Boss Leader's dream. That could mean the Consortium, it could mean Mayview as the literal dream of the Wight, but it could also mean Boss Leader's dream for Mayview, enacted through the sleeping Wight. Maybe Lucifer woke the Wight, and then Spender blasted it to pieces, putting it back to sleep but severing Boss Leader's control. Either way, it would still make sense for the Mayview Wight to desire the approving attention of others. Now that BL can't control it, it shapes itself, like Davy claims, according to the dreams of Mayview's people. Or maybe that desire to be looked at just jealousy, simmered for years of watching Davy dote on Cryptide.

Two: Maybe Boss Leader was never controlling it! Maybe "Clayview" was a pre-thirteen-years-ago concept, and the Incident that shattered the Wight was what changed the town into Mayview as the town's collective unconscious made it lush and green. Who knows what would happen if the Wight were to wake up, and what would happen to Mayview.

CONCLUSION

I did not intend to make this post so long. It's a testament to Zack's storytelling ability that there are so many possibilities to distill from this webcomic. I might be way off the mark, but I'm just happy to share my speculations. I'm sure I've missed a lot.

Whoever read this whole essay, I hope you're as excited for the next Paranatural update as I am!

this is how boss leader can still win

EDIT:

I got the timeline all mixed up! Davy was a vampire before the Incident—Davy cutting himself free of the dream had to occur before Spender "defeated" the Wight. That means I need to revise some things.

New Theory: Davy severed Boss Leader from the Lake Spirit, Spender then broke that spirit in two, creating Peekaboo and the Shadow.

Davy, with Cryptide's powers, "cut the age of great wights to a close." That must have included Boss Leader! When Davy cut himself out of Boss Leader's dream, he split the Wight's reality-warping powers in two—splitting Mayview's reality in two, between the dream and the real world. Boss Leader could control dreams from out in the waking world and the Lake Spirit could control the waking world from within a dream. That was why Spender could defeat the Lake Spirit: it was only half the Wight it had been before. It's still connected to Boss Leader, like how the Sphinxes are connected to each other. Davy kept a piece of the wight for himself, somehow, and draws power through the locker.

I maintain that the Shadow is somehow Boss Leader's human mask, or human form. That means her insect spirit is... I don't know. There's a bedbug joke to be made somewhere. The Lake Spirit has empty eyes, Peekaboo has empty eyes, Spender has empty eyes... Sandman and Boss Leader are all about eyes. Is Sandman the spirit's eyes? Sandman looks like a half moon, a completed Shadow would look like a full moon, I'm just spitballing here

Everything else about this theory holds, I think.

Thanks to this post by @blacktycoon that made me realize my anachronism. They also put a lot of these pieces together back in May, way before I did lol.

[beemo-clippin]

In honor of Etho's pending return, have a silly clip from his most recent Hermitcraft episode :)

Clipped from Etho's episode, "Hermitcraft S10#8: Making Frogger In Minecraft" (35:31)

Feedback:

This was an experiment with captioning multiple people speaking at once, and I went through sooo many different phases trying to figure it out. Please let me know how the pacing and readability is! I think going forward I'll try to limit how many colors I use, since it's a little overwhelming.

Video description and transcription below cut!

Video description:

Etho's POV on the Hermitcraft server, near Pearl's bone block shop. Etho stands on top of a short wall and looks down at Scar, who is just below him, sitting on a horse. Scar faces away from the wall, looking down at his horse.

Bdubs, Cub, and Pearl gather around Scar, watching as Etho hits Scar's head. Scar runs around in confusing before returning to the wall. Etho continues to hit Scar at a regular pace. Scar looks around, but is unaware of where the damage is coming from. The crowd pretends they also don't know, leaving Scar ever confused. He jumps on his horse, and Etho's swing hits the horse. Scar looks around in confusion as Etho continues hitting. Then Scar jumps again, and Etho hits the horse again. Everyone comments on the horse taking damage, and Scar jumps around a couple more times before running off.

------

Cut to a new clip, Etho stands in the same place. Scar stands on the path and looks up at Etho. Bdubs takes Scar's original place by the wall, sitting on his own horse. Bdubs jumps on his horse and takes damage, surprising the crowd. Etho looks around a bit, but never moves his arm. Bdubs jumps a couple more times and takes damage again, then gets off his horse.

------

Cut to a new clip, Etho stands in the same place and everyone crowds around, standing on the path. Scar runs off as they conclude the unsolved mystery of the random damage, and it fades to black.

Transcription:

[Pearl] It was some- some kind of phantom entity or something

[Scar] Ahh!

-[Cub] An invisible block | -[Pearl] Berry bush

-[Bdubs] It's happening still? | -[Pearl] What?

[Scar] I'm getting hit! I'm getting hit again!

[Bdubs] I didn't see anything

-[Scar] I'm getting hit again | -[Pearl] Man, that's so weird!

[Bdubs] I'm not- I'm not seeing the flashing anymore

[Pearl] Why- Why on earth?

[Cub] I'm not seeing anything in like, in this whole, with F3 + B, I mean

[Etho] Whoa, that was weird. Your horse got hurt

[Cub] Wow

[Pearl] Wow

[Bdubs] I saw the horse get hurt

[Scar] Yeah it did, right? I saw it got- it. They've never gotten hurt up until now

[Cub] Can you jump a little bit?

[Etho] Oh it's when you jump!

[Scar] Oh! Jumping! It- When I jump it- it hurt-

[Cub] Yeah! The horse-

[Pearl] Ohh

[Cub] It hits the horse, yeah

[Bdubs] So there must be an invisible block there

-[Scar] Dude, that's super weird | -[Pearl] But Cub wasn't taking damage

[Cub] Yeah

------

-[Scar] What were you doing Etho? -_- | -[Cub] Bdubs...

[Cub] Bdubs doesn't get that

[Pearl] Nothing with Bdubs

-[Bdubs] Oh I just took damage! | -[Scar] Wait no, Bdubs got hurt!

[Pearl] Oh there you go!

[Etho] Oh, weird

[Scar] Okay, I almost thought it was Etho for a second

[Cub] Yeah, Bdubs

[Bdubs] No, I'm taking damage

[Pearl] Oh, there it is again!

[Etho] Yeah, there it is!

[Cub] Oh there you go!

[Pearl] There it is

-[Scar] Yeah! Okay, okay | -[Bdubs] Yeah... Yeah

[Pearl] Woww

------

[Scar] It's so weird

[Pearl] A little strange, that

[Etho] One of those mysteries

[Pearl] Yeah, we'll never know

[Bdubs] Unsolved

[transmascanakin]

Varmibros AU explained.!

(aka the au where Chris Varmitech is a detective whos hired by Martin to solve the case of his missing brother)

The whole thing begins with the Varmitech family, who have been villains for generations and generations. The family is cultishly obsessed with villainy and anyone who doesnt follow the tradition is pushed out of the family, who will later seek revenge on the outcast, and this is how the kidnapping of Chris happened. Generations ago the Kratt family were also Varmitechs, until someone broke out of the cycle, broke contact with the family, changed their name and lived a normal life which of course angered the Varmitechs to no end. The responsibilty of taking revenge on the Kratts fell on Zachs mom, Ivette Varmitech, who decided to take the family's youngest son and raise him as their own to set their bloodline back on the track of villiany.

(i am honestly not a huge fan of this part of the plot idk the kratts and varmitechs being related is so weird but I dont really have a better reason for why theyd take Chris so! This remains for now)

From the Kratts point of view Chris just goes missing mysteriously and no search party or investigator can turn him up. His case goes cold too fast and it really strains their small family. Martin, who was really close with his little brother is forced to grow up alone, being left with the lingering feeling of emptiness (wow thats really deep. !!)

Meanwhile Chris is hidden from public eye until around his teen years, with the excuse of his unstable mental state (which is actually kinda true cause like. Taking a 3 year from his family is traumatic even if you brainwash him into thinking those memories arent real) and at around the age of 17 he starts to join Zach on smaller villain missions but these are just some easier robberies. Hes actually fairly good at stealing and being stealthy but when Zach invented some more serious stuff and began using animals to power his inventions it disgusted him, and he grew even more distant with Zach, and also started putting less effort into anything he had to do as a villain, especially after he had to take a more aggressive role, fighting off and distracting anyone who tries to stop Zach (this is when he starts using the Zach-bot looking costume that hides his identity. The vest also gives him 2 robotic arms) and this is how he gets to know the tortuga crew, who are extremely similar to their canon versions, with the absence of Chris of course. (The crew knows Zach has a brother but dont know that hes behind the mask of his right hand-man who they nicknamed the crawler)

Anyways, unlike Zach, Chris' main focus is not the villain business. He became a detective, as this is like the only thing his parents let him do that he actually loves. But one day, he gets a strange call. Martin Kratt, one of his brother's biggest enemies, a man that he himself had to face many times in his villain disguise, wants Chris to take on the case of his missing brother. Hes immediately suspicious, thinking its just a coverup and Martin actually wants to get some information about Zach or something, but after meeting up with Martin he realises hes very serious about wanting to hire him to do the investigation. He looks at the unsolved case of Chris Kratt, a 3 year old who went missing without barely any trace almost 20 years ago, and despite knowing that he probably wont be able to turn up anything new for Martin, whos convinced that against all odds his brother is still alive, Chris decides to take the case.

Martin is quick to help Chris in the investigation, and he is surprised to discover that the detective is the opposite of Zach in a lot of ways. Unlike his brother, Chris seems to love animals and has a respectable knowledge about them, and just like Martin, he also has his experience with complicated familial relationships, and the two of them grow close while digging themselves deep into the investigation. (And yeah maybe Chris reminds him of his brother, maybe he just wants to protect Chris from his dubious brother and parents, or maybe he feels connected to him in a way he cant name)

Meanwhile Chris faces the internal struggle of wanting to stay friends with Martin, but also knowing that hes secretly the villain who Martin has to fight every now and then, and he feels extremely guilty for decieving him, but hes too scared to tell him because of his major abandonment issues, but he also cant stop being a villain due to the pressure his family puts on him. So now he has to miraculously solve the case of Martins brother, while he actively tries to keep his identity a secret, and tries to avoid Zach, whos always happy to remind him that no matter how morally superior Chris feels hes still lying to the tortuga crew and that he better stop this little game of his before their parents find out, or before the crew discover his identity...

(If anyone has any questions for the au feel free to drop them in my ask box .!!)

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog: Wakfu Season 1 (episodes 21-26)

Episode 21 - Igol

This is a big episode because this is where we get the "Adamai knows stasis magic" lore drop that is never elaborated on, or mentioned altogether.

Episode 22 - Rubilax

Someday, someone will complete a translation of the Dofus manga in russian or english and I'll finally learn what's the deal with this man and why he died and got better and how crazy his doomed yaoi with his dead dragon husband gets.

Heartbreakingly, this day is not yet here.

[Kerubim and Goultard crying together over a drink, begin talking at the same time] I miss my dead wife, Goulatrd/Kerubim. I miss her/him a lot.

Big lore: Sleep masks exist in this universe.

Episode 23 - The Quest for the Dofus

He'll get it eventually. I did.

Episode 24 - Reunion

I love their family so much, I wish they could be happy. But every time something changes, it's far too late... It is tragically realistic, I suppose.

I don't know why, but this is such a pretty frame... The soft morning light, the dim room, the plants the glowing mushrooms...

Also, rare moment to take in what the guest rooms look like at the Sadida castle!

This episode (and at least one past episode) has quite a bit of ciphered text that I haven't been translating because I'm evil. Sorry. It's not the same script as the texts in Aux Tresors, despite the similarities, so you'll have to resort to google, or to decoding it yourself. You could start with the fact that this presumably says "Arbe de vie"

Episode 25 - I Am A Legend

Stasis mention 🔥🔥🔥

This whole scene always makes me tear up. I am actually insane and crazed every time I rewatch the last two episodes.

Your insane Joris trivia of the day is that this scene was changed between various airings/versions of Wakfu. For some mysterious reason. Here's a comparison:

I prefer the old version because.... [blushes] [kicks legs] [twiddles with my hair] HES SO PRETTY—- But also besides me being insane and in love with him, it just seems to have better composition and flow, imo.

My theories for why he was late:

He was sent to get reinforcements from other countries, or call for help. Though it is unlikely that many other kingdoms responded, given how little people care about Sadida (the most likely, normal, and realistic explanation)

He went together with the army of Sadida and the king to fight the war and ran all the way here using his insane speed (the second most likely, normal, and realistic explanation)

He overslept

He got lost

He was busy, man...

He was writing a letter to Keke and Atch about how he beat the shit out of some sadida guards and two girls clapped and cheered and lost track of time.

This exchange has always been so funny to me for some reason.

"What is the situation" He says,, while a giant mecha is about to kill what likely amounts to one-twelfth of the world's population.

I have talked about it a lot, but I am so deeply unwell about how cold he is. A girl lost her lover and is crying inconsolably, and he's not really paying that attention. One twelfth of the world population is about to die, and he won't show an ounce of discomfort or horror or grief.

Obviously he doesn't like it, but showing any weakness is out of the question.

More people have died from Ogrest, and she's like, the 60th girl on a battlefield on his memory to be crying after losing someone.

There are no unsolvable issues in this world.

I need to study him like a bug.

Episode 26 - Mount Zinit

Standing so prettily...

I think one of Joris's core "insanity and depression prevention" life philosophies is that, if he is not present at a battle, and can not physically be present, then he's not to blame for any horrible thing that happens.

I think this philosophy works almost never to quell his feelings of unease, and right now he is calculating 132924 ways he could have gotten here faster and just how much it would fix things.

(guy who runs a blog about pointing out obvious things Joris does voice) There's a very subtle expression change here. He starts looking intently as Amalia proposes going to help Yugo and Adamai. He was going to do this. However, the second he hears her yell "no", his expression changes once more.

We don't see whether he rushes to aid Eva in any way after she collapses from grief, but I will be honest — he would never do that.

Even if he has a pre-established good relationship with her. He just can't do that. He probably stands there awkwardly, in that same exact place, and feels very bad the entire time — because he can neither comfort Eva (they're practically strangers, he hesitated far too long, he'll make things worse—), nor go help Yugo (he can't just leave Eva and Ruel alone... What if more enemies appear? Or what if they think he abandoned them amidst grief? And would he even be useful?)

I think standing next to inconsolable people is Joris's personal hell.

I am insane.

I think one of the reasons Wakfu season 1 is so memorable, and so effective, is that there is no glorious pay off.

Yugo has a heroic moment of friendship overpowering everything — and then, after a second of being scared, Nox overtakes him. Nox wins. And that win is a mere 20 minutes. And for what? Pinpin is still dead. Everyone he killed is still dead.

Yugo doesn't get a glorious win, or his friend back. There is no epic swell of music. Just something quiet, foreboding, and truly meaningless.

OMG HI.

Your daily reminder that canonically, Eva is an amazing artist.

💀

Once again, Sadida Kingdom and Bonta have a very good relationship. Besties who hoard magical nukes together stay together.

[anim-ttrpgs]

The Actual Patreon Post: You can get a PDF copy of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy right now for only $5.

As many of you who already follow this tumblr page have no-doubt already seen, after some difficulty, we have finally been able to set up a functioning Patreon page. Those of you who already follow this tumblr page have also no-doubt already seen that we have been working for several years on an original TTRPG called Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy. This is a robust, rules-medium TTRPG that is designed to run mystery, horror, and even action adventures in any time period between about 1850 and the present day.

More info about what makes Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy so unique as a TTRPG can be found

Here (Introduction/Summary)

Here (The Eureka! System)

Here (What is Eureka for?)

Here (The Woo Roll)

Here (Lore)

Here (2D6 System)

Here (Gameplay and Design Philosophy)

But for a quick summary, Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is a 2D6 system(NOT PbtA) that puts the players in charge of relatively mundane investigators as they attempt to solve puzzling mysteries, both ordinary and supernatural in nature. Investigators are flawed, vulnerable people who must rely on their wits more than heroic skills to overcome adversity and dig for the truth, even when it may not be enough. Combat is deep and tactical, but very realistic and deadly, with overconfidence easily able to land a character on the ground.

Eureka takes a rare approach to party dynamics and TTRPG narrative, where the PCs are on a mostly even playing field with NPCs, and playing their cards wrong could easily have a new group of PCs showing up to not only solve the original mystery, but the unsolved murders of previous party as well.

Additionally, it is not discouraged for PCs not to 100% trust the other members of the party, with betrayal being a real possibility. Even in the absence of an intended betrayal, in some cases a PC may actually be some kind of supernatural creature passing for a regular person, who can reveal this to neither the rest of the party nor the actual players sitting around the table. If your character is a vampire, that’s between you, the character, and the GM. No one else can know, or else. What supernatural characters gain in overall power and often durability, they make up for with the added challenge of utilizing their powers and avoiding their supernatural weaknesses while attempting to solve the mystery without tipping off anyone else to their true nature.

Now for a few quotes from those who have had the opportunity to playtest and preview this game:

“The most stress-free character creation I’ve ever seen.”

“The Eureka! system is something that really sets this apart from other mystery games.”

“This approach to investigation is the right way to do it.”

“I love the Woo Roll.”

“[The monster dynamic] is one of the most interesting things I’ve ever played with.”

So, why am I telling you all this again? Because Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy is, basically, being soft-launched right now. The official Kickstarter is still several months away, but the actual game is 99% done. You can pick up a PDF of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, along with three pre-written adventure modules to go with it, for $5 right now on our Patreon page.

For official and top-secret reasons, I can’t actually speak about how much we intend to Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy for when it actually goes up for official sale, but I can say that this is a very, very good deal for what amounts to almost 500 pages of material.

[82mitsu]

{18Trip} <PROLOGUE SIDE-A: Still blank> 000-A04 First Trip

A translation of 18TRIP's PROLOGUE SIDE-A by 82mitsu. ENG proofreading by sasaranurude.

TL note:

I believe the little jingle Sakujiro does is a reference to Doraemon, when he pulls out a gadget out of his pocket to help out Nobita-kun.

Kaede: You’ll catch a cold if you stay here.

Boy in hospital gown: ……

Kaede: Say, Kafka… how about we go back inside?

Kafka: …No.

Kaede: But… it won’t be good if you get sick!

Kafka: …Only this far. I… can only… go to the rooftop or courtyard of the hospital here.

Kafka: This is as far as I can get from my room… To me, it’s a trip I have to put all my energy into.

Kaede: Kafka…

Kaede: But, but! Once you get that amazing surgery, you’ll be able to go wherever, right!? 

Kaede: You’ll get better, and can go anywhere… We'll be able to make fun trips and play lots together, right?

Kafka: The success of my surgery isn’t 100%.

Kaede: Does that mean it might end up failing?

Kafka: …Whatever it is, it’s still a long way off until the surgery.

Kaede: Kafka—

Kafka: You know, I’m jealous of you, Kaede-chan. Because you can go anywhere, as far as your feet can get you—

Kaede: …Then, Kafka. Once the rain stops, let’s go on a trip. Both of us.

Kafka: Kaede-chan… and me?

Kaede: Yes. Together.

Kafka: …Kaede-chan.

Kaede: Hm?

Kafka: My hand. Don’t let go of it. Keep holding onto it tightly, forever…

Kaede: Yes. I won’t let go.

Kafka: Forever, okay? Even… even when that surgery will happen one day…?

Kaede: I won’t let go. Ever.

Kafka: Promise?

Kaede: Yes, I promise!

Kaede: —-I did make that kind of promise, didn’t I.

Text message from Kafka 

<[Surgery’s over.]

Text message from Kaede

[Eh!?]>

[Surgery!? Over!? What do you mean!?]>

Text message from Kafka 

<[Sorry. The decision came out of nowhere so I couldn’t let you know.]

Text message from Kaede

[How was it?]>

[Kafka?]>

[Did something happen?]>

[Heeeey!!]>

Kaede: –And no reply…

Kaede: But if Kafka himself texted me about it being done, then the surgery must’ve been a success, right.

Kaede: (I said that, but I can’t calm down until I see his face, after all!)

Kaede: Kaf—-

Slender glasses man: DON’T MOOOVEEEEEE!! Please stop where you stand!!

Kaede: Uwoh!?

Slender glasses man: You may not set one foot in this room! There are many such times where unsolved cases have instances of things left unnoticed during the initial investigation. Or not.

Kaede: (Huh, getting a good look at him, it’s Kafka’s butler—)

Kaede: Sakujiro-san? Not letting me in means… this has to be Kafka’s room, right?

Kaede: Did something happen to Kafka….!?

Sakujiro: That—that is what I am investigating at the moment. It’s with utmost regret that I say this, however, but I kindly request for Kaede-san to wait right over there for the moment.

Kaede: Uh… sure?

(Sound of something being unzipped can be heard)

Sakujiro: I am left with no other choice. Fly too close to the sun and your wings will burn, sacrifice your autonomy to artificial intelligence and humanity shall fall…. If possible I wouldn’t have chosen to go this far, but alas… 

Sakujiro: Tututurun!♪

Kaede: Is this another installment of Sakujiro-san’s mystery gadgets?

Sakujiro: Exactamundo, these are the seven hundred seventy seven tools for butlers inherited from generation to generation within the Oguro Family.

Sakujiro: …I believe this one is suitable for our current predicament. A scent detector for the Young Master, the sniffer-licker-woofer!

Sakujiro: This dog-like robot that records Young Master’s scent every single day has the capability to detect what Young Master is doing, what he’s eating, what he’s hiding, and what mutations are happening within the Young Master’s veins.

Kaede: Can it… lick you, too?

Sakujiro: It cannot deliver any licks. Sakujiro will fill in the blanks within his mind palace.

Sakujiro: Now search, it shall. Click click.

Sakujiro: Muh, a response! 36 minutes and 31 seconds ago the Young Master got up from his bed slowly and changed out of his pajamas.

Kaede: He must have— there’s pajamas thrown off to the side here!

Sakujiro: Then he turned around in this spot, and put one single piece of dental gum in his mouth. I can say for certain that the bottle feels one gum lighter than when I checked it earlier this morning.

Kaede: To notice a decrease in weight like that, I’m speechless…! 

Kaede: (Sakujiro-san, as always, has full knowledge of just about everything when it comes to Kafka…)

Sakujiro: Followed by Young Master putting his hand on the door, peering into the hallway, left, right, left and confirming the coast was clear.

Sakujiro: Good heavens, he performed a proper safety check exactly as I, Sakujiro, had taught the Young Master during his boyhood. 

Kaede: In other words, Kafka was being cautious to not be seen when he lefthis room…?

Sakujiro: According to the sniffer-licker-woofer, during that time Young Masters' emotions were excitement and nervousness divided perfectly half and half!

Sakujiro: Thus, at last, starting with his right foot he departed from this room…!

Kaede: …(Gulp)...

Sakujiro: …..

Kaede: So then, where did he….?

Sakujiro: I do not know. Unfortunately, the sniffer-licker-woofer isn’t equipped with functions that are able to deduct that far.

Kaede: You’re kidding me…! Even though it has way too many crazy features!

Sakujiro: Nevertheless, there is one thing I can confirm, which is that we must go search and bring him back posthaste.  

Kaede: Kafka, where did you go… All of this—and right when your surgery was just finished, too…

Sakujiro: .Hm?

Kaede: I heard from him that his surgery was over.

Sakujiro: …I see. 

Sakujiro: Kaede-san, may I request your cooperation? For some reason…

Sakujiro: This is a letter addressed to you... Or rather, something akin to a tape would be more befitting.

Kaede: A cassette tape? And it’s Kafka’s?

Sakujiro: It was lying on the floor under the bed. 

Kaede: Ah, the date on this…

Kaede: (It’s 10 years ago, but it has to be…)

Kaede: Once the rain stops, let’s go on a trip. Both of us.

Kafka: Kaede-chan, and me?

Kaede: Yes. Together.

Kaede: It’s from back then—

Kaede: It’s from back then—

<<previous chapter / next chapter>>

prologue directory: A01 / A02 / A03 / A04 (x) / A05 / A06 / A07 / A08

[scarstothepast]

In(human) - Prologue: In the Underdark

Pairing: spawn!Astarion x fem!named!tav

Tags: angst, post-game events, unsolved feelings, mentions of Cazador, canon violence, isekai

Summary: Six months ago, Astarion saw with his own eyes what he would have become if Tav hadn't stopped him. Just when he thought all was lost, his old group of adventurers knocked on the door of his tailor shop, underground, when the world was under threat again. To Astarion's surprise, Tav was there too. But she looked nothing like the person he remembered.

"I hope you die screaming."

It had been a hundred years since Astarion had thrown those words at Tav.

A hundred years he spent cursing her name.

When he felt the anger begin to cool, he would revisit the memories to remind himself why he had left her.

She betrayed him. She betrayed him. She denied him a power that would allow him to be free forever.

It denied him the possibility not only of walking in the sun without any fear, without depending on a tadpole, but of never fearing anything again.

Then the day came when revisiting that moment wasn't enough, and Astarion found himself visiting a sorcerer capable of glimpsing alternative destinations.

The hatred and boiling sorrow that he had so carefully nurtured for a century turned to stone and crumbled between his fingers.

He watched himself ascend and take Tav as spawn, with only a small portion of his own blood running through her system. The only thing that differentiated her from the other spawns he transformed.

Because it wasn't long before he started treating her just a little better than Cazador treated him.

"You would turn into something you despise."

Those were her words.

And she was right.

He became... a new Cazador, as a vampire ascendant.

Maybe even worse.

While he knew exactly what to expect from his late master, neither Tav nor the other spawns knew what to expect from him.

A constant caress from a velvet whip.

Sometimes an executioner, sometimes a lover.

All the anger, all the hurt, all the words and curses came back to bite him.

Most of his old group of disorganized adventurers should still be alive, but not their fearless and impetuous leader.

Tav was human.

And careless.

Which meant that she had probably been dead for decades.

Which meant it was too late for regrets.

Tav saved the world. Saved Faerun. Saved seven thousand souls from Cazador and Astarion. And saved Astarion.

She became one of the great heroes of Baldur's Gate.

She received several proposals.

Many wanted to become her lover.

Few out of true affection. A substantial and obscene number motivated simply by the nobles' game of power and influence.

She turned them all down.

Never married.

She never had children.

Until she disappeared into history.

Astarion felt even more miserable when the trance, in mockery of his staunch desire to hate her for a whole century, brought back memories of her delicacy, her affection and her love.

From the time when he had been her lover. The object of her affection and care.

That he held her in his arms. At the time he had everything.

Freedom. Security. Love.

It was a new kind of torture.

Astarion cursed himself a few times.

A century of hatred was good enough, but, gods, he needed more. Another time.Whereas the first time he abandoned the first person in two centuries of torture who cared about him, now he brought torment for himself.

"Astarion." He shivered like a skittish cat at the sound of his own name.

Dalyria stood there in the doorway of the tailor's shop with a small but hopeful smile.

How she didn't come to hate him was still a mystery to him.

The others certainly did.

"What now?" He muttered, turning again to the intricate embroidery pattern on the red silk.

Another piece he would never sell. Designed to be worn exclusively by a person who should already be dust in a forgotten grave.

"Well, your mood hasn't improved, even after a century, I see." Astarion froze at the voice. He turns slowly to see Halsin smiling gently at him.

As if he hadn't abandoned them in battle.

Behind him stood Lae'zel, with her characteristic scowl and a clear judgment in her eyes, and Shadowheart, a little older, but apparently in top form despite everything.

He was completely speechless.

"It's a beautiful piece of work." Said the druid after taking a look at the embroidery Astarion was working on. "Do you have time to save the world, in the midst of all this?"

Too shocked by everything, Astarion didn't answer. It was his chance to redeem himself, even if she was no longer there.

But the very fact that she was no longer there was a discouraging factor.

"I told you it was a waste of time. Besides, he..." Lae'zel was quick to attack him, clearly resentful of his defection.

A childish voice, however, interrupted the tense moment behind the three of them.

"Are you the heroine my mother talks about?" It was Dalyria's son, Thorin. Astarion hesitated, almost resentful at the thought that they had recruited someone to replace Tav.

"It depends on who's asking." A cadenced, elegant voice replied.

A voice that had haunted Astarion for the last six months in the same way that his former master had haunted him in the first years of his freedom.

Impossible.

Astarion got to his feet immediately.

He made his way through his former companions to see Dalyria's son standing before a slender, elegant figure, dressed in black tanned leather pants and an equally black linen tunic, embroidered with gold threads.

Her dark hair fell in wavy cascades over her shoulders. It framed her oval face, with well-groomed eyebrows, lips painted a soft red and eyes as black as the darkness that surrounded them.

"Uncle, it's the great heroine!" The stoic face turned to where Thorin was looking. At him.

Tav.

An elegant, cordial nod. Fluid, ethereal movements.

She was nothing like the impetuous, clumsy adventurer he remembered.

"Do you already know your answer?" She asked in a calm tone. Clean of any emotion, just like her eyes.

There was nothing reflected in them. The sorrow that haunted him during the trance was no longer there. Neither was the young, cheerful face during the moments when he was forced to face what he had left behind while blinded by rage.

"I-I..." Astarion stammered, fighting against his own conflicting emotions which were about to drive him mad.

"Astarion, we don't have time for winding things up, nor is it difficult to say a word with three or two letters. Yes or no?"

It wasn't an impatient tone, but it did inspire urgency.

Astarion was about to open his mouth when an assassin glided out of the shadows, attacking Tav.

Only to turn into red mist and black dust. A distinct metallic smell floated in the air.

Blood and metal. The metal of the weapons he carried.

As if nothing had happened. Tav turned to him again.

"Well?"

Astarion studied the face, the same face he had enjoyed, admired and kissed for many nights a hundred years ago.

It was the same face, although it looked completely different.

"Yes." Astarion finally replied.

Tav was no longer human.

[merakiui]

more octavinelle thoughts (albeit more floyd-focused) but!!! a concept in which you are an idol and the twins are your bodyguards and azul is your very scummy, sleazy manager who would do virtually anything so long as his star angelfish can shine brighter than the other idols and their agencies. though the idol industry is cutthroat and stressful, thanks to azul’s quick wit, the leech twins’ connections, and lots of smart investments you manage to gain success relatively quickly. that’s the entire point, after all, and yet even with your success in recent years there are ominous shadows that stretch far and wide. 

floyd dwells in these shadows, always teetering between being happy for your newfound success and loathing the fact that you’re so popular and busy now. even though he follows you everywhere (he and jade are bound to you via contract, but floyd could care less about the legal bond between the both of you), it’s always for business. he’s forced to keep within certain boundaries so as to not cause legal trouble, personal trouble, and just overall trouble for the fans and you. there are times he’s thought of wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him after it became an irritating chore to watch you pose for pictures or sign various things when fans would recognize and approach you. he wants to prove something by doing this, but he’s not sure what. prove that you’re untouchable to the general public—that only he can lay a finger on you? prove that you are no one’s idol? prove that you belong to him? 

floyd hates this feeling. it’s as if he’s wrapped in fishing netting and there’s no escaping no matter how much he bites and claws. the more he thrashes, the more it winds itself around him, constrictive and painful. it hurts to see you shine so brightly while knowing fully well he can’t truly have you. you’re meant to put on an act to prove to everyone that you are accessible and loyal only to the arts. therefore no romance for you. even your personal and work relationships are difficult to navigate because no matter who you’re associated with fans will get envious, or they’ll make rash judgements. 

floyd’s thought about yanking you up to his height to kiss you square on the mouth while out in public with you. he’s thought about taking you in the recording studio so they’ll have recordings of your voice as it wavers with moans and sobs, and for the right price azul can sell it to tabloid journalists and they’ll release it and the whole world will hear their slutty idol getting fucked by a faceless, mysterious bodyguard. then you’d truly be his because no one would want you. 

he’s thought about keeping his hand planted firmly on your hip when at social gatherings or clinging to you like a luxury handbag. jade often advises against it. as physical as floyd would love to be, he has to follow the rules. floyd hates the rules because he never knows what half of them are or what they entail. he’ll get away with fleeting touches when he can, masking them with the excuse of his job. if a fan attempts to get too handsy with you, he gets to put his hands on your shoulders and steer you away while jade politely advises them of the rules. 

floyd spends so long trapped in this troublesome stage of pining from afar, never to surpass any boundaries, always remaining as your bodyguard, that he begins to wonder if anything will ever change. he wants to get married; you can’t. he wants to settle down and start a family; you can’t. he wants to publicize his love; you can’t. there are so many things you can’t do and it’s so annoying. floyd tries to tell azul that it’s not fair—that you ought to be given more freedoms (“fuck the fans,” he often says)—but he may as well be a petulant child whining over impossible, unsolvable problems. this may be a reality to everyone else, but it isn’t the reality he wants. the reality he wants lies in unreality—in the far corners of his mind, each one a sugared fantasy he often considers when he needs material to get off to. thoughts of you in your pretty, frilly, elaborate idol outfits, each one shredded to pieces to get to warm skin beneath (he’ll buy you a dozen replacement outfits if it means you’ll let him fuck you; hell, he’ll spoil you rotten just so you continue to allow him to stand by your side as your most loyal bodyguard), have him falling over the edge into orgasmic bliss. god, you’re so perfect. so sweet. so soft. so deliciously noisy when you’re practically howling beneath him when he fucks you so hard the bed shudders (and the dreams always fall apart right when he’s about to tell you he loves you in the aftermath). fuck. he wants you all to himself. 

at some point, as his love twists into something unfathomably crooked, he gets it in his mind to knock you up. it’s the perfect solution! secret relationships, publicized romance, and rules be damned; a pregnancy would unravel the carefully crafted spool of thread azul has spent so long spinning to perfection. you really would be his then because it would be undeniable proof. and when your belly is so taut and round with his child, even with azul’s silver tongue, it will be impossible to explain away. and everyone would know. everyone would know you belong to him. your picture-perfect, successful world will cave in on itself, fold itself away into a packet of misery, and from the tendrils of bad, terrible, hateful things floyd will pull you free—right into his arms where you’re meant to be.

today you smiled at him, brought him a snack to thank him for his hard work, and tomorrow he’ll return the favor when he slips something into your drink so you’ll fall into your own little fantasy.

the idol industry is cutthroat, but then so is floyd.

[v3nusxsky]

Am I yours? 18+

*Authors note~ smut smut smut and more smut. Anyone else such a slut for weems? Also I apologise to the requester but I lost the ask I’m sorry :(*

Trigger Warnings~ sub l dom r (as many of you asked for more sub l) g!p r (I don't make the rules) degrading kink praise kink spit kink overstimulation kink oral daddy kink

Prompt~ Hey . Can you do a fic where dom R has a crush on sub L and ended up in L's bed that night with L . The next day when R expects love, L harshly asks her to leave the room. After crying for days, R tries to move on and spend time with another girl not love just friendship). Jealous L realizes her love for R, pleads and begs R to stay with her.

Still angry R punishes(sex) L for the previous ignorance ended up cuddling each other.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

You'd always been crushing on your boss since day one. It wasn't something you had the confidence to be so forward with your advances. You like to be in control in the bedroom but when it came to making the first move, rejection was always something you feared. It hinders your confidence. But one night at the Nevermore staff party, some alcohol (okay a lot of alcohol) and a little bit of peer pressure from coach Valad you found yourself living your fantasies out in reality. The best night you could have ever imagined and you were slightly mad at yourself for being intoxicated, but you'd never forget what occurred between you and her.

You were woken by a gasp and the bed sheets being torn from your body, your morning wood on full display. Truly, you couldn't do much but blink away the sleepy haze in shock. "Isa?" You mumbled only to be hit with a pillow and a shriek from the blonde, "Get out! Get out! Get out!" You couldn't help but feel hurt and feel shocked at such a reaction, not what you were expecting after letting her see the real you, being so vulnerable with her only to now be kicked out from her room after spending the night together.

That's how you quilt shoved your clothing on and fled the room to escape what you assumed would be a hurl of insults about how unnatural and disgusting you are. How you shouldn't have slept with your boss. Yes you could definitely do without the abuse. You fled to your room where you would take up residence for the next three days, only leaving once a day to squash the tales of you being injured or something like that. You weren't eating or showering and sleep, you were haunted with the memories of that night and how it would never happen again. A freak of nature is what she called you in a nightmare.

Valad was fed up of you hibernating, not understanding why you weren't glowing since you finally got to sleep with your crush. Larissa seemed to be unusually irritated and quick to anger these days. So of course he had to do something, that's how Marilyn found herself knocking on your bedroom door. "Hi, Valad sent me. He said you might need some friendly company" she murmured to you through the door, only for you to completely ignore her. Marilyn tried for a while but you were not having any of it so she left your room, only to be spotted by Larissa. And well she put two and two together and came up with eight.

Being called into your bosses office wasn't exactly ideal with your present situation. You'd not spoken to her for three days, the rejection still fresh and lingering in your mind. What on earth could she be wanting you for at this time of night anyway was all you could grumble on the way to her office. Once there you were met with a seething blonde. Her rage was obvious but what had caused it couldn't be further from a unsolved mystery.  "You and Marilyn can not be sneaking around to see each other in school hours" the tall principal practically growled at you, "it's already forbidden that two teachers date! Imagine the scandal. It's like your trying to rub it in. God why can't you just see what's right in front of you!"

"Me? Really Larissa. Is that what this is? Jealousy. You know damn well there's no rules on relationships between staff members and you can't control who wishes to check on me after you threw me away like some unwanted toy. Discarded after I have no use. So if it's me that can't see what's in front of me then you know I'm in love with you! Yet you choose to ignore it so if that's all" you raged the emotion overbearing as tears trailed down your flushed cheeks. But before you could even turn to leave Larissa was up in your personal space before crashing her lips to yours in a desperate attempt to convey her true feelings. "Stay. Please. I'll do whatever I need to prove to you how foolish and sorry I am."

That was how Larissa found herself devoid of clothing and tied up on her bed. You were not showing her any mercy tonight, still upset about the fact she kicked you out. You were merciless with how you were eating her out, tongue curling just right as you lapped at her leaking cunt. Edging her over and over to make her feel some of the emotion you have. Tears leaking from her eyes as she begged and pleaded you to let her cum, "please please no more please daddy need to cum."

"More? Hmm okay" you teased, untying her restraints and settling yourself between her legs. Your rock hard cock pulsating with need. "Such a fucking slut, kicking me out then begging for me to fuck you again. What a whore, the principal of Nevermore begging like a cheep slut" you purred stroking your thick shaft. "Pathetic really, look at your tight little hole clenching around thin air. Such a cock slut, now open your mouth" she demanded, loving how she instantly complied. You then lined your dick up with her pussy and slipped in, to distract her you spat in her mouth and demanded she swallow like a good girl. And of course like a good little submissive she did just that.

The tears continued flowing as you practically hammered your cock in and out of her quivering hole. Both of you being worked up to a high where Larissa was desperately begging you to let her fly over that edge this time. Promising to be good for daddy and to never hurt your feelings again. Truthfully you felt you'd punished her enough but of course you weren't going to tell her that, rather you just continued brutally fucking her until she went cock drunk for you, her orgasms washing over her in powerful tidal waves of immense pressure. You followed seconds after, I mean how could you not? Her cunt suffocating your dick like this was making it hard to hold on this long.

Of course you came painting her walls white and you worked the poor blonde back down slowly as she cried for no more, her red puffy lips sore and swollen from overstimulation. "You did so good for me Isa, so good baby" you murmured giving her a sweet kiss before running off to find items to clean her up alongside some water. Once that was all settled you began to dress which seemed to startle the fucked out blonde, "where ? Stay please. I'm sorry. Stay. I love you." The last three words nearly not audible but you caught them. They single handedly warmed your heart and encouraged you back to bed where you could sleep holding the woman you love. Only when morning came you were blessed with sleepy cuddles and kisses rather than being hit with pillows this time.

Word count ~ 1329

[losfacedevil]

Retaliation // SFK x CM

a/n~ Roughly a year ago I had a crackship idea to write Sam as a profiler for the Quantico BAU and throw him into the world of Criminal Minds - which never happened until now. The serial killer mentioned in this case is not of my own creation but is one of @vanfleeter’s creation, who lovingly let me borrow her idea to get the gears turning. Thank you, my love. You’re the best 😘

WARNINGS: Mentions of crime scene photos, Death, gun shot wounds. The use of guns in a criminal investigation setting. Foul language. Any that I may have missed please please please let me know!

This wasn’t his life plan. Working with the Federal Bureau of Investigation- the Behavioral Analysis Unit to be exact, wasn’t exactly where he saw himself when he crossed that stage to accept his bachelors degree in criminal justice. Never once had he dreamed of working with the FBI - the weakness of his stomach around anything even slightly grotesque had made that decision for him many years ago.

Though his interests had changed immensely somewhere between walking the stage in his high school graduation and picking a major in college. A simple read through of a true crime book changing the trajectory of his thoughts and dreams. Long gone were the ideas that he’d don a space suit and blast off into the stratosphere with his colleagues. His mind full of the facts that would make him a brilliant astronaut, while his passions lie elsewhere in the midst of cold cases and unsolved mysteries.

He had been encouraged to join the BAU, the brilliance his mind held to create a profile, picking up on even the most minuscule of details causing him to be able to solve a case even those higher in the food chain couldn’t.

“That is absolutely his signature! Look, each woman have the same markings as,” he trailed off, sifting through the file folder spread out across the conference table.

Finding the one he wanted he quickly carded through the documents, placing crime scene photos of the victim next to the ones he was studying.

“Her! They all have the same markings, look at their ears - it looks like he may have taken a hole punch to them.. but why? An inch of skin isn’t any substantial trophy.”

Hotch had raised an eyebrow, his eyes dancing over the photos Sam looked through, placing his hands again the table as eh leaned his weight forward.

“So then what could it mean?”

“Wait look! She’s got one, she has one on each ear, but she has three and she, LOOK! She has two on each ear. He wasn’t a one time killer, this was the work of a serial killer. This is how he was signing off each kill.”

Hotch’s eyes grew wide as the realization hit him. Pushing back off of the table he steadied his weight, crossing his arms over his chest.

“You ever think of doing this professionally, kid?”

____________

“I still can’t believe the newbie cracked that last case as a stand in rookie cop, it’s never happened like that before.” Morgan chuckled, perching himself again the edge of Sam’s desk and clapped a firm hand down onto his shoulder. A sheepish smile spread across Sam’s face and he turned his attention back to the file folder sat in front of him.

“That’s because he wasn’t meant to be a cop, he was meant to be a profiler.” JJ chirped up from where she sat, her eyes never leaving the screen of her laptop.

“Actually, my calling was space. I studied to work in a space station, but a few of the degrees over lapped into this line of work. But then I read this book called Murder New England which was a collection of cases and it really sparked something in my brain. I found that I was able to profile right along with the story and well… the rest is history.” Sam shrugged his shoulders and realized he was rambling.

“No wonder you all said he’s just like Reid.” Emily shook her head and slowly made her way out of the bullpen and in the direction of Garcias office.

A comfortable silence fell over the three profilers remaining in the bullpen as they went back to the tasks they had originally been working on. It wasn’t long before a commotion rang out somewhere down the hall and the doors to the bullpen sprang open as Hotch barged his way into the bullpen followed closely by Garcia and Prentiss.

“A new case just came out of the DC area, they need our help ASAP - wheels up in thirty.” Sam’s head shot up at the authoritative tone in Hotchs voice. His eyes danced over to Garcia who - in a tizzy - was handing out case files for them to go over on the flight. JJ stood from her desk and threw a look over her shoulder at Sam who was frozen in his seat.

“You comin’, Sam? We gotta jet.” Her voice was light and airy, a tone that shook him out of his thoughts and he pushed himself to stand. Holding his hand out he allowed Garcia to place the file in it and wrapped his fingers gently around it before taking off at a jog behind his colleges.

Garcia began pacing in front of the conference table as she waited for the crew to take their respective seats. Pulling a deep breath in through her nose she turned on her heel and, using the remote in her hand, brought the screen to life behind her. On it were gruesome crime scene photos of three separate victims.

“Asher Max, Mariah Lambert and Colby Rodriguez. All three were found dead on the steps of various museums within the Smithsonian.” Sam cocked his head to the side, trying to examine the photos on the screen as best as possible.

“There’s duct tape around their wrists and a GSW to their foreheads… what do you think the unsub does to get them in space where they can restrain their hands and bring them down execution style?” Sam offered, turning his attention to the file folder that sat on the table in front of him. Garcia clicked through to the next slide, presenting photos of the crime scenes, the offices in which the victims worked.

“They hang around long after the museums are shut down for the night, find a way in and ambush them in their offices - they’re found on the front steps the next day. No one has stepped forward outside of those reporting the findings of the body and crime scenes in the offices.” Sam shook his head, not wanting to believe what he was hearing.

“Someone had to have seen something, anything. What about security guards or cameras? Have they pulled the footage?” Garcia nodded and clicked over to another slide.

“They ceased the investigation until we could get there. So far there are no ties to anyone or any real motive as to why the murders are happening.” Garcia scanned the faces of her colleagues and her gaze came to rest on Spencer.

“What are you thinking, Reid?” She mumbled, leaning forward to rest her hands against the conference table.

“There’s something telling in the male, female, male, pattern in which they’ve killed. Meaning the next kill may be…” Spencer was cut off as Hotch brought his hand down against the conference table.

“Another female was found outside of the American Woman’s History Museum. Let’s wrap this up. Wheels up in five!” Hotch spoke with a sense of urgency as he pushed his chair out and rose to his feet, making his way quickly out of the conference room.

“Someone’s had to have seen something. Is there any connection they’re aware of?” Spencer asked, rising to his feet and collecting the file folder from the table in front of him. Garcia shook her head and turned off the screen behind her.

“So far no… go get em tigers, I have faith in you.”

Sam sighed as he rose to stand and followed JJ out of the conference room.

~*~*~

“Agent Rossi, what brings you here?” Hotch was quick to address the senior agent as they made their way over to the American Woman’s History Museum. Rossi raised his eyebrow and turned on a heel to face the BAU members standing behind him.

“They called me directly. Who do you think tipped Garcia off to compile the files?” Rossi kept his tone even, not wanting to tip off the crew that he was peeved. Hotch nodded solemnly and they slowly made their way into the police station.

“I’m Agent Aaron Hotcher of the Quantico BAU. This is Agent Reid, Rossi, Jareau, Morgan, Prentiss and Kiszka.” Hotch rattled off a quick introduction as they were escorted into the conference room.

Sam’s eyes danced over the expanse of the map of the Smithsonian they had set up, taking in as many details as his mind would hold. Reid stepped forward and stood shoulder to shoulder with Sam, eyeing the newest member of the BAU quietly before turning his attention to the map on the wall.

“Look… even the order of museums is odd, he bounces from one side to the next… male, female, male, female… so if he hit the Woman’s History Museum last…” Reid’s voice trailed off and he reached up to cup his chin in his hand.

“If he follows the same trajectory…the National Gallery of Art is next. Hey Hotch? Is the director of the Gallery of Art male or female?” Sam called, glancing over his shoulder at his senior Agent.

“That would be David Saunders. He’s one of the best historians around these parts.” The police officer standing next to Hotch spoke up and turned to face the agents.

“Shit… and it’s almost closing time. That’s his next target - we gotta go!” Sam’s voice took on a tone of urgency as he turned on his heel and took off out of the conference room with both Morgan and Reid hot on his heels. Rossi turned his attention to the commotion for a brief moment before returning it to the CCTV footage that was pulled up on the computer screen in front of him.

“See him? With the bucket hat?” The security guard working the cameras zoomed in on the man and waited patiently for him to tip his head in the direction of the camera.

“That’s Chase Rivera, he parted ways with us a few months ago due to ‘Unforseen circumstances’… do you think?” His question trailed off as he looked up at Rossi. The senior Agent nodded his head vigorously before pulling his cellphone out of his pocket and dialed a number.

***

“Talk to me, Rossi.” Morgan spoke down the phone, his free hand resting on his holster as he scanned the crowd for any suspicious activity.

“The guys name is Chase Rivera. He’s wearing blue jeans, a Hawaiian shirt and a black bucket hat stood just inside the door to the National Art Gallery. Keep a close eye on him, I think he’s our guy.”

“He just walked past me and Reid mumbling under his breath but I couldn’t catch what was said. Newbies been trailing him since we spotted him. I’ll keep you in the loop.” Morgan ended the call and slid the phone safely back into his pocket.

“Hey kid, they’ve got a birds eye view on the guy Sam’s trailing, I’ve got a good feeling about this.” Morgan chuckled and slowly began to make his way over to where Sam stood in the crowd. Reaching out he placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder as to not startle the boy with his presence.

“He keeps watching the director every time he goes back and forth to and from his office… wait, look at his belt. Is that a… gun holster?” Reid took a step closer, the unsub none the wiser that he was being watched from all angles. Slipping his hands in his pockets, Reid leaned forward slightly and squinted his eyes, just barely making out the glint reflecting off of the revolver.

Chase rocked on his heels as he watched the few people that still remained in the museum disperse. All three agents shuffled backwards, pressing up against the wall as to not be seen. Reid crouched down next to Sam and leaned sideways just enough to see Chase’s shoes, watching to see if he dared to move.

“There goes David into his office… shit!” Sam mumbled, his hand going instinctually to the gun that hung on his hip. Reid pushed himself up off of the ground and followed suit, drawing his gun and turned his attention to Sam for the next round of instruction.

“He’s not luring them into their offices, he’s waiting where no one will look and following them in. We’ve got him now.” Sam’s voice held steady between a whisper and his normal tone as he slowly began to walk towards the directors office. A commotion could be heard coming from inside the office. Muffled voices and furniture being tipped onto its side.

Reid pushed past Sam and turned his attention to the agents at his back. Raising his hand he counted down from three before kicking in the door to David Saunders’ office.

“FBI! I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Chase!” Sam’s voice carried in from the hallway and a stunned Spencer stood still in his tracks.

Chase raised his head slowly and finished securing the duct tape shackles he was weaving around David’s wrists, rendering the man helpless. He straightened his back and stood to his full height, taking in the scene in front of him.

“And why not? There’s nothing a boy like you could do anyway.” Chase spoke in a drawl, dragging out his words longer than was necessary. Sam swallowed hard, the words he wanted to speak becoming fully entrapped in his mind.

“Drop the weapon, Chase. There’s an easy out standing right in front of you. He’s done nothing to you, there’s no rhyme or reason for the way you’re acting. You left on your own, you brought this upon yourself now… drop the weapon.” Reid’s voice was soft and level, knowing just how to speak to someone on the edge.

Chase turned his attention to the gun he held in his left hand and slowly lifted it, pressing the barrel to David’s temple. Sam swallowed hard as he watched the scene in front of him unfold, scooting his feet shoulder width apart he steadied his hand and took aim for Chases shoulder.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t empty this barrel into his head. He forced me to resign, took my job from me. My lively hood! Doesn’t matter what I did to provoke it. He ruined my life.”

With a slight nod of Reids head both Sam and Morgan discharged a bullet from the barrels of their guns, lodging them both into Chases shoulder and caused the man to drop his gun. Sam was quick to place his gun back in the holster and stepped forward, slipping his handcuffs off of his back belt loop.

“Chase Saunders you are under arrest for the murder of Asher Max, Mariah Lambert and Colby Rodriguez. You’re going to have a lot of time to think about what you’ve done where you’re going.” Sam rambled off, placing the cuffs securely around Chases wrists and pulled the man to his feet. Stepping forward Morgan slipped his hand around Chases arm and yanked, pulling him in step with him.

A shaky breath slipped past Sam’s lips and he looked up, meeting Spencer’s gaze. Nodding his head in the direction of the door, Spencer turned on his heel and slowly made his way out of the office.

“He needs medics, but we got him. Sam got him.” Morgan beamed, handing Chase off to the EMT who was waiting for them outside of the museum. Hotch turned his attention to the main door of the museum and watched as Sam slowly dragged himself over to where everyone stood.

“Looks like our work here is done, good job son. You alright?” Hotch spoke, placing a reassuring hand on Sam’s shoulder. Sam nodded gently and turned his attention to the older man at his side. With a reassuring squeeze and a tilt of his head, Hotch motioned for everyone to head back to the cars knowing that their presence would soon be needed at the police station before they could head back to Quantico headquarters.

TAGLIST: @vanfleeter @stardustvanfleet @readyforthegarden @ascendingtostardust @belovedsamuel @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @lyndz2names @the-wicked-gnome @runwayblues @gracev0609 @lipstickitty

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt: Imagine going home after everything that happened in Twisted Wonderland.

Pairing: NA

Genre: Hurt no comfort (im sorry)

TW: Talk of loneliness, mention of scars ig, let me know if there's something else I should add here

AN: I don't know what happened here ummm... I just, started writing and it went somewhere. But going somewhere is still better than going nowhere (which is what a lot of my drafts are doing rn) so I'm just putting this out for your reading pleasure and as a practice thing. Enjoy!

Imagine going home after everything that happened in Twisted Wonderland.

After spending years and years trying to find a way back home with the help of the most wealthy, intelligent people and their abundant resources at hand, you finally manage to return to your world (somehow calling it the real world leaves a bad taste in your mouth; Twisted Wonderland was real, your friends were real. Everything you went through was real, and it would be a gross disservice to treat it as anything less than that).

You find out everything has changed. Naturally, considering you were essentially in a different universe entirely for many years, there would be changes. Like you being presumed dead after being reported missing by your family and friends. Perhaps you're even on one of those documentaries about mysterious and unsolved disappearances with the weirdest theories floating around on the internet.

Imagine going to your home, finding out another person lives there now. Imagine seeing the new tenant lose colour from their face on seeing you, as if they've seen a ghost. Because that is what you are to these people in this world now, isn't it? A ghost of the past.

Imagine having to go to the police, giving them a story you spent time coming up with to explain your absence, your disappearance.

Imagine meeting your family. For how much you've longed to see them while you were in Twisted Wonderland, there is little relief. Especially when they have changed so much, just like you. You have scars you cannot explain, secrets they wouldn't understand, stories they would dismiss at best and be concerned about at worst.

Even if you were to reveal the truth of everything that happened to you, everything that you saw and learnt and experienced, who would believe you? They would think you've gone mad.

Imagine reaching out to your friends, facing the same cycle again and again; the fear, the disbelief, the relief and tears, then the questions. You don't know which part of it hurts you more, which part digs its claws into your heart and shreds it more savagely.

Because somehow, somewhere down the line you don't recognize these people. You don't fit in, and you don't connect. The world has moved on without you, and now that you're back, it struggles to accommodate your unexpected presence.

You see it in the hesitancy with which your best friend introduces you to the child she had with her husband (who was her boyfriend before you left), in the way your father tiptoes around you in any and all conversations. Your mother sometimes forgets to set out three plates instead of the two she had gotten accustomed to, and your friends treat you as though you are made of glass and will shatter with the slightest touch.

You're a ghost of the past, haunting them with your presence and risk hurting them with your absence.

But what can you do?

You made your decision when you chose to come back. There is no going back, no second chances.

" Did I make the right choice?" You think to yourself on days where the loneliness grips you just a little too hard, where the gap between you and your loved ones seems near impossible to bridge. Days where it seems that living in Twisted Wonderland would have been far better than this... empty life you were living.

Can you imagine going home after everything that happened in Twisted Wonderland?

[donotaskwhyiamhere]

Hey I love your writings of Shanks

I saw your post about writing others characters and I was wondering if you could do that for me (if you want)

He's pretty muscular, he has short curls and he wears a mask. Before he joined Shank's crew he was a very skilled detective. it doesn't take long for him to piece things together.

He has a quiet voice but he isn't shy by any means. He's very mellow but can be assertive when he feels it's necessary. He likes shanks because of his strong loyalty, and his goofy personality at times.

Please pleasee can you write some ideas for the twos relationship 🙏🙏 it can be fluffy or lemony I'd appreciate either

Shanks x detective m!reader

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Hello my coner peeps. I am at the moment in the start of my exams. So forgive me for being late.

I love writeimg for poeple so I'm happy to write for you, and as much as I would love to write something a little more spicy, I can't do that till June 13 when I turn 18. So if you want something spicy, please wait till then. I don't want to write something like that till I'm of age for some mute be uncomfortable. Thank you.

Now I hope I got this right. But if your not fully happy please tell me what else you would like to see, I love writing these for you. If you want a certain character (you) please just ask, no fear. I wrote this one differently, it's more Iike half story half imagines. I hope that's ok with you, if you want your character in a certain situation please do ask.

Enjoy, tell me if you would like a rewrite if unhappy.

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(Y/N) (L/N) was known for their amazing skills as a detective and mysterious nature, often asked to solve cases that was forgotten or deemed unsolvable. He was often hired by the marins and familys looking for lots loved ones.(L/N) had all they needed, money, fame, adventure and praise from those he saved but even with all of that it was lonely going on adventures alone. He wished for a family of his own, it didn't matter who it was and his wish was granted in a strange but simple way. Shanks

.......

One day you were hired by a marine to find out who had stolen their supplies of Sake and meat. Since they were both too lazy and just happened to recognize you. You confirmed the marine was just lazy because you easily found the thieving pirate known as Shanks, simply having a party on the beach with his crew. You watched quietly from the bushes, you looked away for a moment to grab you note little note book but the moment you turn back your surprised by Shanks right in front of you "Well, hello there peeping tom" You yelped falling back. Naturally you were scared, sure you had some muscle with a good build but you were not the biggest fighter, more brain the muscles.

To your surprise, again, he invited you to join him, for what reasons, you did not know. You sat quietly most of the time drinking along and listening closely to conversations.

SHANKS P0V

Shanks watched you from the corner of his eyes, he knew who you were, he heard story's of you but not many of your beautiful looks, your quiet nature, eyes darting around analyzing every small detail and word.

Shanks goofed around with you, teasing and making jokes, often ruffled your curly hair whice he loved feeling between his fingers. After a while he finds out your easily flustered, but not afried to bite back, whice leads into a flirting battle between the two of you. He gladly did most of the talking for you but would love how confident and sure you sounded when yu did speak.

But in all honesty he thought you were cute even if he thought it was a simple one night stand desire but as the night sky came he realized you had this type of innocents to you that made him feel... calm and exsited to see what more your hiding

....

YOUR POV

After a few hang outs with them you were asked to join whice you gladly accepted, welcoming the new life and family you wanted.

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IMAGINES:

• With your chill personality, Shanks would often tease you and flirt with you, especially when his drunk, pushing your buttons in every way he can to see you get flustered or get you to say something back. But of course he would back of if you get uncomfortable.

• Sometimes he'll say something out of pocket just to see what your reaction would be.

• When it comes to your hair he loves the feeling of it between his fingers, often patting your head, ot would happen so much you expect him to scratch your head when your next to him. He just can't get enough of it.

• Now when it comes to your mask, he sees it as a part of you even if his curious to see you without it on. He'll respect your privacy if you say no.

• If you wear the mask because of a scar you wish to hide, he'll tell you no matter how bad it mite be they'll mist likely things it's amazing. If you wear it because of fashion, he'll want to see all of your maskes and ask whice would fit him. If you wear it for special reasons whether it's a family item or for special needs, he'll make sure no one tries to take it off forcefully.

• Shanks finds your detective skills impressive and will often ask you to find things or go out on islands with him to see if you can help find anything of value, basically treasure hunting. Naturally he'll ask what kind if mysterys you have solved and oh heaven if you start ranting to him about it he'll be so lost but be happy to listen anyway just to see you excited to talk.

• After some time Shanks will grow found of you and will most likely develop into a casually relationship, even if it's casually he'll still stay loyal to you, with lots of cuddling, kisses, some how even more head pats.

• If any conflict where to happen with an enemy and your close by, he'll make sure your behide him.

• And oh heaven does he love making out with you in small hidden places, hand in your hair and body's pressed together, the thrill you both want and feel just drives you both over.

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EXTRA

You could feel Shanks arm holding you close to him as you sat on his lap, having another party for who knows what reason thus time. His hand going to ruffle your hair every no and then.

After late into the night you finally managed to help get him to bed, bit before you could leave to help the others your pulled into bed with him, his alcohol breath hot on your neck as he whispered to you, his eyes closed, mumbling "Don't leave me" his arm pulling you closer to him by your waist, pulling you under the blanket "my little mystery, so beautiful" you can't help but smile at the drunken goofball, pulling your mask down to kiss his forehead. "I'll stay right by your side captain" "promise" "with my life" happy with your response he plays with your hair as you both fall asleep in each other's hold.