#AGE was so much fun <3 I would like to get back to it someday but picking back up after so long is hard!

[sysig]

Hm ok what's your favorite or a really cool worlbuilding thing you've done? For any fandom or original or even an unimplemented idea

Hmm well at least in the past decade, my big worldbuilding projects have mostly come down to three-ish stories: Other Side of the Gun, Adventures of Gæilo and Ethon, and Just Desserts

OSG was an Invader ZiM fancomic concept I started around 2013 to justify every single Irken headcanon I ever came up with lol - I never finished it, or even really started it, but I put a lot of time and energy into its roughs back in the day :)

^A stick figure recap of Ch. 1, inspired by - what else - the Vargas stick figure recaps lol

One that you can see over here is all the work I did for my DnD campaign, AGE! (Though its sideblog hasn't been updated in a while haha - the AGE tag over here works just as well) I basically homebrewed a pantheon and had an absolute blast designing all the gods and their forms before they became gods and even things like architectural differences in their churches and the BBEG and his motivations and just ah <3 Such a fun project :D

It also laid the groundwork for things like Pokemon Homestyle, specifically all my papercrafts! You can really see how I leveled up haha

And my latest has been Just Desserts! Even with less time under its belt, it's still pretty expansive, as evidenced by my icon and theme and the backlog lol, and it's the one I have the most AUs of! (Though OSG does come close actually haha) There are still some thorny details I'm trying to iron out, especially to do with the magic system, but all the characters and creatures and the fact that I made my own fighting minigame, ah, pleased! I've never been so happy with a sona before Charm! ♥ From the very beginning it's been so fun to work on and I still want to improve!

[littlcdarlin]

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | read on AO3

summary: Joel and reader finally make it back to the hotel & all that sexual tension is resolved. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv (very stupid, wrap it up kids), creampie, cunnilingus, face-sitting, (resolved) sexual tension, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, forced orgasm (not really? kinda sorta?), smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair

Note: finally, the last part is here! I hope you’ll enjoy it, I had a lot of fun writing this. It’s one in the morning so forgive any typos — I wanted to post today. Thank you for the consistent love on this story, I really appreciate all your messages and comments <3

Joel positively drags you back to the hotel, one arm slung across your shoulder, your hastily packed bags in the other. He’s quiet, and you’re afraid that talking will break the spell, that he will hear your voice and remember who you are, and what he’s planning on doing to you. You’re nervous. Excited, yes, but nervous – you’ve been with people before, drunken hookups with collage boys who wanted to get off as quickly as possible. None of it felt like this, you didn’t want any of them as people. With them, it was about the sex itself, with Joel it is almost entirely about him.

Your thoughts are racing in your head, insecurities bubbling up inside of you, things that didn’t matter when you slept with those other people you barely knew – will Joel mind that you aren’t clean shaven? Does he expect you to be more experienced than you are? Are you even good in bed, or will he be underwhelmed, and secretly think you are pathetic?

You want this, more than you have wanted to be with someone maybe ever. But that want makes you vulnerable, strips you of any nonchalance you might have clung to if Joel was anyone else. He isn’t some collage boy who won’t remember you in the morning, he is your father’s best friend, for whom you are a more than controversial choice. Sleeping with you is a threat to his friendship with your father, and still, he’s ready to risk it, he pretty much told you as much. That gives it a level of importance you aren’t used to when it comes to sex.

When you reach the hotel, Joel hurries past the reception before the kind lady can stop you, and despite your nervousness, it amuses you. Joel presses the button to the elevator impatiently, making your stomach flutter. He’s so shameless in his desire for you, not embarrassed by this open display of wanting to get to his room as quickly as possible. You would have worried about looking needy, but not Joel. He’s secure, and solid, and unflinching.

The doors open, and as soon as you’re inside, Joel crowds you against the wall of the elevator, catching your lips in a kiss, before moving his mouth to your neck. You exhale shakily at the feeling of him sucking on your skin, the beard burn a surprisingly welcome sensation.

"They’ve got cameras," you breathe, a weak attempt at regaining some sort of dignity, while Joel quickly unravels you under his mouth and hands.

"Fine by me," he just answers, "Should ask them for a copy to take home with me."

Your knees threaten to buckle at those words, his admission that this isn’t just a holiday hookup, that he will want you just as much when you have left this paradise and returned to the world outside of your bubble.

"Careful, baby," he says, one hand holding you steady by the waist, his lips ghosting over your jawline.

Baby.

With a sudden ding!, the doors open again, and an elderly couple steps inside. Joel stops kissing you, but doesn’t step away, his hand still on your waist, his big body still close to yours. You offer the couple an awkward smile, and barely register the judgement in their eyes as their gazes flicker over Joel’s hair specked with white, because Joel’s hand starts moving again. He slips it under your shirt, no his shirt, rough fingers drawing featherlight patterns on your sensitive waist. His touch is teasing, clearly meant to get some sort of reaction out of you in front of these strangers. Joel’s getting off on this, you realize, on being seen with you, on people knowing just what he plans on doing once you’ve reached the third floor. You bite the inside of your cheek and do your best not to let show how you ache for him, how his gentle touches are affecting you. If you look at him, you know your resolve will crumble, so you pointedly look at a point over his shoulder, and try not to shudder.

As soon as the doors open again, you and Joel get moving, and a nervous chuckle escapes you when you meet his eye. His expression is hard to read – blatant desire, but also something more gentle, something that calms your nerves. It’s Joel. He didn’t leave you hanging when you needed to borrow a bike, didn’t make you feel stupid or guilty for it being stolen, and he won’t make you feel stupid now. That’s what you like the most about him, you think, as his hand ghosts over your back and he leads you towards his room, the way he makes you feel at ease. Whatever the opposite of shame is, that’s what Joel brings out in you.

You reach the door, and want to push it open, but Joel stops you, tilting your face towards him with a gentle touch.

"You don’t have to do this," he says seriously, "we can just go back to the beach. No hard feelings."

You appreciate his consideration, the way he seems to be aware of a certain kind of pressure or expectation his age creates for you, but the idea of going back now, when you’re so close to what you want, makes you want to weep.

"Getting cold feet?", you ask lightly, and he smiles at you, a fond smile, one that seems oddly out of place given the situation.

"I’m just sayin’, I get it if you changed your mind or something. I assume this isn’t the way you…usually do things."

"No," you say, holding his eye contact. "Usually they’re twenty-five years younger."

Joel’s face is a perfect mask, not sure what to make of your remark. You reach up, your hand gently touching his beard, and your eyes glide over the wrinkles around his eyes from years of laughter, the white in his hair, his warm irises.

"God…you’re so fucking sexy," you breathe, and there it is again, that color his cheeks only turn when you compliment him.

"I haven’t changed my mind, Joel," you say honestly, looking directly into his eyes. "Have you?"

"No."

His voice is deep, and he finally, finally opens the door, eyes still on yours.

As soon as Joel pulls you into the room, his lips are on yours again, your arms wrapping around his neck, as he walks you over towards the bed. He’s bigger than you, much bigger, and it only really occurs to you when your knees give out under you, and you land on the bed, sitting in front of him and gazing up.

He looks imposing, almost threatening, if it wasn’t for that expression he has on his face – something behind the desire. You feel safe in his hands, safe to give yourself over, not just in the physical sense. He looks so capable, so easy to trust. His hand comes up to your face, tilting your head up, and you move easily for him, letting him mold you in any way he wants.

"That couple," you begin as you watch him watch you, take you in, "they knew exactly what we were doing."

His hand travels over your throat, and although he doesn’t squeeze, it’s exhilarating to think how well it fits into his palm. You shudder as he pops open the first button of your shirt – his shirt.

"You liked it," you add, voice breathy as the tips of his fingers ghost over your collarbone.

His eyes snap up to yours, and you give a small smile, almost teasing.

"Didn’t hear you complainin’," he answers, holding your eye contact. "Think I should mark you up, so that the reception lady knows, too."

It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does, but you press your thighs together to relieve that terrible ache. Joel notices, and smirks almost imperceptibly, opening another button on your shirt. He’s taking his time, building tension by making you wait. He’s good at this, you think.

"But then she would stop calling you my Daddy," you breathe, trying hard not to close your eyes under Joel’s touch. Joel cocks an eyebrow, hands lingering on your shirt.

"Don’t tell me you enjoyed that, kid," he says, voice low, eyes intense. You flush, and wonder if he’ll kick you out now, if you have finally made things too weird to continue, but Joel keeps gazing at you, ever steady.

"Cat’s got your tongue?"

You swallow, and let out a shaky exhale. Joel pops open another button.

"That why you kept repeatin’ it to me? Cause it turned you on?"

He’s teasing you, dragging it out of you despite your embarrassment. He wants you to revel in just how debauched it is what the two of you are doing, and you get closer to giving in with every second. Joel’s fingers trace over the swell of your chest, finally visible now that he’s opened most of the buttons, and a weak sound escapes you.

"’S that it, baby?"

"Yes," you breathe finally, your cheeks burning. Joel’s answering smile seems oddly satisfied, as he opens the last button, lets the shirt glide over your shoulders and slump down on the bed in a little heap of linen. You swallow.

"Yes," he repeats, eyes trailing over your body. You wish he’d hurry up and get his hands on you, but with the way slick steadily leaks into your swimsuit, you can’t really complain. He sure knows how to play you like an instrument.

"Say it, then," he says curtly, a simple order, and you briefly close your eyes. It’s almost too good. His eyes are locked onto yours when you open them, expectant and blown wide with desire. He has stopped moving, and you realize he wants to hear you say it before he’ll go any further.

"I…I want to call you Daddy."

Your stomach curls up with need when you hear Joel groan, his resolve quickly crumbling, as he crashes his lips against yours again. He licks into your mouth with urgency, and it’s possessive in a way it wasn’t before, like he wants to claim your mouth. The thought makes you whimper, and Joel trails one hand over your side and down to the waistband of your swimsuit. You didn’t bother putting on your shorts again, just walked to the hotel in your bikini and shirt. His fingers slide under the thinnest part, right on your hip, and he lets it snap against your body. It doesn’t hurt, but the sound makes you groan.

His hands roam over your body relentlessly, squeezing, and tracing, and feeling the swell of your hips, the dip of your navel, your spine, your breasts. You almost don’t notice him undoing your swimsuit, until he slides off the top part, and runs one finger over your pebbled nipples. Your back arches and your hips twitch towards him, but he doesn’t give in yet, just teases the sensitive nubs while you whimper into his mouth.

Then he unties the little bows on your hips, and just like that you’re bare before him, your swimsuit coming undone with one tug of his fingers, while he’s still fully dressed. He’s disturbingly good at undressing you, something that used to be an obstacle to sex now a sensual part of it. You want to feel embarrassed at the amount of wetness between your legs, but when Joel’s fingers slide over your stomach and down to your throbbing core, he groans into your mouth.

"Jesus, you’re drippin’," he breathes against your lips, breaking away to watch his hand press circles into your clit. You try hard not to twitch under his gaze, his blazing eyes and skilled touch. Another whimper escapes you, as he keeps rubbing and watching your reaction, like he wants to take you in before continuing.

It’s embarrassing how quickly he gets you to the brink of an orgasm, but when your hips twitch towards him with little control, he stops, his eyes meeting yours again. You watch him lift his hand up to his mouth and suck his fingers clean, eyes not leaving yours. It’s the most erotic thing you have ever seen, the way he closes his eyes at the taste, and you wonder how you haven’t come yet.

"I’m gonna eat you out," he says, and it’s not a question. Immediately, insecurity floods your veins – you haven’t had someone do that before, and the men you have heard speak about it said they didn’t enjoy it.

"You don’t…I mean, you can just…", your voice trails off. Joel stops in his tracks, watching your face and cocking a brow.

"You ever been eaten out?"

"No," you say quietly, "and you don’t have to."

"I know I don’t have to," he says, and he sounds almost affronted, like he can’t believe you would think he didn’t enjoy it. "You want me to?"

"I just…know some people don’t enjoy it much," you mumble and look down. Joel’s hand comes up to your face, tipping your chin so you have no choice but to meet his gaze.

"I want you to come on my tongue," he says, "and then again on my fingers."

You almost whine at that, embarrassment seeping out of you easily, and Joel traces his thumb over your lips. You let it slip into your mouth and suck, swirling your tongue around it.

"Alright? You let me take care of you," he mumbles, eyes trained on his finger between your lips.

"Okay," you say, when his thumb slips from your mouth, and then quietly add "Daddy."

"Good girl," he answers, and a wave of heat rushes to your loins. It’s fucked, what you’re doing, completely fucked, but so good you think you might cry. You were scared thinking about it for too long would break the spell you two seem to be under, but the more you do, the more turned on you get. You have Joel Miller in front of you, calling you a good girl and about to make you orgasm multiple times.

"Lie back, baby," Joel says, and you do, sinking into the pillow that smells like him. Joel keeps watching you, and when he kneels down on the bed and gently spreads your legs with his hands, you think you might come from just that sight. But you hold on, because something about Joel wanting to eat you out, not even having taken off his own clothes, makes you curious. 

He kisses your ankle and trails his mouth upwards, over your inner thigh and your hipbone, until you almost tremble.

"Jesus, Joel," you mutter, hips twitching on the bed, trying to get closer to him without your permission. He looks up at you, pressing his thumb to your clit again, and you curse. It’s not exactly painful, but it’s so much, almost too much.

"That what you call me?"

He doesn’t let up, his touch so insistent, you wonder how he expects you to come up with a single word.

"S-sorry," you stutter, grinding against his hand. "Daddy."

It thrills you to use that word, to know it gets Joel off, enough that he chastises you for using his real name.

"That’s right," he answers, and finally he lets up, placing his big palm on your thigh instead. Then, he leans down, and presses his mouth to your clit, flicking his tongue over it. It’s unlike anything you have felt before, and you actively have to will your hips to stop twitching, afraid to somehow hurt Joel. But he notices, ever perceptive, and breaks away, his mouth and beard already covered in your wet.

"Get up," he says, and you feel your anxiety rise again, questions of what you could have done wrong. He waits, but raises his eyebrows.

"You wanna come, or not?"

So you sit up, confused, and watch as Joel lies down on his back.

"Straddle me," he orders, and you move towards his lap, but he shakes his head. "Over my face, come on, baby."

You stare at him. His expression softens when he sees your disbelief, and he gives you a smile.

"Told you I’d make you come on my tongue, didn’t I?"

"Yeah, but Joel, that’s…"

Your voice trails off. You aren’t sure what you want to say – dangerous? Really fucking hot? You’re still sitting by his side, when he strokes one hand over your thigh, a soothing touch.

"I don’t know where you get the idea from that I don’t enjoy eatin’ you out," he says, his voice almost stern, "but you get that right outta your pretty head. Now, will you do as I say and sit on your Daddy’s face?"

Your mind goes a little blank when Joel calls himself that, and you feel helpless to do anything but nod, give him what he really seems to want.

"Words, baby."

His hand trails up your thigh and over your stomach.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl," he answers, looking directly into your eyes, his strong hands grabbing your waist and helping you move, hoisting you up until you’re hovering over his face.

"If I need to breathe, I’ll tap your thigh, alright?"

"Yes," you breathe, quickly adding "Daddy".

Joel’s hands force your hips downward and although the sensation of his mouth under you is exactly what your throbbing clit was begging for, you’re tentative and unsure of what to do – you don’t want to hurt Joel. 

"Move, baby, make yourself feel good," you hear Joel say, voice muffled by your body. You rock your hips forward once, and let out a groan – your clit bumps into his nose, and you feel him lick into your folds. His hands grab your hips, and he starts rocking you against his face, setting the rhythm for you, and and you feel yourself leak onto his face and into his mouth, as you start moving along with him. His beard feels scratchy in the most delicious way, as he lets you fuck yourself on his mouth, his thick tongue darting out.

"Fuck," you moan, "Fuck J-Joel, Daddy, fuck!"

It’s a lot to take in, Joel Miller’s head between your thighs, lapping at you like he’s starving, like he can’t imagine anything better than having you sit on his face. His strong nose keeps nudging your clit, again and again, and your movements slowly becomes more confident, though also less controlled.

Joel’s hands keep encouraging you, and you’re closer than before, right at the brink of coming all over his face, when Joel groans into your dripping cunt. The vibrations send you over the edge, and you practically sit down on his face with all your weight, but he doesn’t stop you, just lets you ride out wave after wave of your orgasm and chant a mixture of his name and daddy.

You get off of him with shaky legs, afraid you suffocated him, but he smiles up at you, looking absolutely wrecked – his hair is tousled, beard and face drenched in your juices, jaw a little slack. He reaches up to cup your face, and you go with his touch easily, laying down next to him. He rolls over until he’s half on top of you, watching your red, panting face, and slants his mouth over yours. You can taste yourself on his lips, can feel his soaked beard against you, and although it should be impossible after just having come, you throb at the feeling.

"So good for me," Joel mutters against your mouth, and trails his hand downward, over your stomach and to your overstimulated clit. You twitch under his touch, your body unsure if it wants to get closer to Joel, or get away from him, and he chuckles.

"She spent?", he asks, his tone a little amused, when you squirm under him. "That’s okay, baby, I’ll give her a break."

Instead, he slides his fingers through your folds, gathering wetness, and finally pushing into you. Your body opens up for Joel more than willingly, and although the stretch is tight, it’s not nearly as painful as you’re used to, you’re too wet and relaxed for that. 

Joel watches your face, your fluttering eyelids, as he pumps two thick fingers in and out of you in shallow thrusts. You whine – you know you’re being vocal, too loud for a hotel room, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when Joel curls his fingers against that spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Your hips twitch upwards, and Joel smirks.

"There we go, baby, there we go," he mumbles, moving his fingers relentlessly, and already you can feel another orgasm building. He doesn’t let up, just lets you whine under him, thrash around, because his touch is almost too much, too good, too intense, but just right. 

"Give me another one, baby, come on," he coaxes, and you think your ears start ringing when his palm starts grinding into your clit with every movement of his hand, the tips of his fingers pressing hard against your insides. "You just let Daddy make you feel real good."

It feels like bursting apart, when you come again, some tight coil snapping and Joel practically wrenching the orgasm out of you with his relentless hand and dirty words.

"Daddy," you groan, your hand coming up to your face, as you bite down on your knuckle. Joel watches you with bright eyes, lets you tremble until he can tell it’s too much, and only then does he slip his fingers out of you. 

You’re weak, exhausted from the intensity of your pleasure, and Joel chuckles when you sigh, watching your glassy eyes.

"Okay if I fuck you now?"

You think you’d let him kill you, if he really wanted to.

"Yes," you breathe, "please."

He finally – finally – takes off his shirt, arms flexing, chest sprinkled in dark hair, his belly protruding over his trunks. You wish you had a camera, or a chisel so you could scratch his glorious body into a block of stone. He’s hard in all the right places, and soft in the rest, and with a jolt you realize you’re allowed to touch now, no longer confined to watching him swim from your deckchair.

"Jesus," you breathe, sliding one hand over his biceps, as he unties the band of his swimming trunks. You know you’re hindering him, but you can’t bring yourself to stop your hand from trailing over his chest, and down to his belly.

"Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot," you mutter when he slides the trunks over his hips. Then your mind goes a little blank, because finally his bulge isn’t confined to his trunks anymore, finally he’s naked in front of you, kicking his clothes onto the floor.

He’s big, just like the rest of him. Long, and thick, and uncut, and dripping in precum, the dark hair at the base of his cock a harsh contrast to the reddish skin. Joel closes his fist around himself, pumps twice, until you tentatively put your hand over his. His cock twitches, and you feel a little overwhelmed with power. Joel let’s go and lets you do the work, your hand much smaller than his. He looks even more imposing like this, as you move your hand up and down his length.

"Wanna suck it," you say suddenly, and you’re not entirely sure where the words come from, but you know they’re true – you want to get him into your mouth, feel him use your face the way you used his. Joel groans.

"God, you’re killin’ me," he answers, eyebrows furrowed, voice wrecked. You squeeze your hand a little tighter, just to hear him make his little sounds again.

"I’ll come if you do, baby, and I’m not sure I have two rounds in me," he says, regret lacing his voice, but his words make you clench around nothing – his age turns you on more than you thought possible.

„And I need to fuck you tonight,," he adds, and wraps his big palm around your wrist, so you stop moving it over his throbbing cock.

"So fuck me," you breathe instead, eyes wide and glued to his. You watch his expression change, something primal take over, and suddenly he’s on top of you, his hips pressing into yours.

"Again," he orders, almost growling.

"Please fuck me, Daddy," you whisper, your stomach clenching and unclenching in anticipation. Joel looks like he might come from just your words, but after a moment of collecting himself, he kisses you briefly.

"Alright, pretty girl, I’ll give it to you real good," he promises, and aligns his cock with your entrance. "You’re so goddamn fuckin’ wet, I can slide right in."

And he does, pushing his hips into yours. You feel the stretch of the thick tip, the widest point almost bordering on painful, and you bite your lip. Joel slides into you slowly, breathing into your mouth and making you feel everything. Then the tip is sheathed inside of you and Joel groans quietly.

"Grippin’ me so tight," he mutters, consistently pushing on, "halfway there, babygirl."

Your pussy flutters around him, clenches and unclenches, as he keeps going, and going. You feel full, and still Joel pushes on, until his hips are fully pressed into yours, and you feel him deeper inside of you than you have felt anything before.

"Breathe, baby," he reminds you, and you let out a shaky breath you didn’t notice you were holding. "Attagirl."

When he pulls out of you again, you make a raspy whining sound, your stomach clenching at the intense drag. Joel’s hands start trailing over your body, yours are gripping his shoulders.

"Look so pretty, all stretched out on my cock," Joel praises you, and God, the mouth on this man. If you weren’t so exhausted from the first two times he made you come, you would be trembling. You groan weakly, as he pushes back in, and starts moving at a quicker pace, setting a rhythm he likes. He punches into you with precision, angling his hips just right, and then he’s nudging against that spot inside of you.

"Ah…Daddy!"

"I’ve got you, sweet girl," he groans, moving both your wrists over your head, and pinning them down with one big hand – he easily engulfs you. You tug against him, testing his grip, and your hips twitch upward when you realize you can’t get out. He’s fully in control now, his cock nudging into you insistently, and you can only take it. You’ve never felt so cared for, as now, getting fucked raw by Joel Miller.

He doesn’t kiss you, but he keeps staring into your eyes, and it feels weirdly intimate. His movements become faster, more forceful, his belly nudging your body with every thrust. You whine, your body unable to do anything except for letting another orgasm build, one you didn’t think yourself capable of. The corners of Joel’s mouth twitch, when he feels you clench, and he fucks you harder.

"Daddy," you yelp at one particularly deep thrust, but Joel doesn’t let up – you don’t want him to. "Wanna come, p-please."

"You wait for my permission," Joel answers. Your belly feels like it’s on fire, tightly coiled with the need to just let go, but Joel wants you to wait, so you will wait. Anything, you think, anything. Joel’s jaw is slack, his brows furrowed, his free hand rough on your skin, but not unkind. You clench around him, and try your best to hold off coming, your eyes falling close.

"Eyes on me, kid," Joel orders, and despite your concentration, your eyes snap open. "Fuck, that’s it, my good girl."

My girl.

Joel fucks you like it, like you’re his. It’s possessive from beginning to end – the way he looked at you when you first wore his shirt, how he wouldn’t back away from you in the elevator. He plays your body like it’s his, dragging the pleasure out of you, and it makes your head spin. You can feel his thrusts go sloppy, can feel his restraint cracking, and your eyelids flutter a little.

"You want it inside, babygirl?"

You didn’t talk about that. You know you should say no. The head of his cock nudges your insides, and Joel’s free hand presses down on your stomach, feeling himself inside of you from the outside with every thrust.

"Yes," you breathe, "yes, please, Daddy, I w-want it."

Suddenly Joel is the one who has to close his eyes, as he keeps fucking into you.

"Fuck, you come for me first, baby," he groans, sliding his hand down to rub at your overstimulated clit. It’s too much, right on the brink of painful, and you thrash under him.

"I c-c-can’t Daddy, it’s…", your voice trails off, lost in the impact of his thrusts, but Joel keeps rubbing tight circles.

"Yeah, you can, baby, you know why?"

You don’t have it in you to answer, so you just stare into Joel’s eyes. You feel something wet on your cheek, and realize you must be crying, crying from how good you feel, how full.

"Cause I said so."

Your pussy throbs, clenches, and Joel moves his finger over your clit faster.

"Come for me, baby, I’ve got you," Joel drawls, and finally you do, your vision going white, your muscles going slack as you let Joel drag his cock in and out of you, the pleasure white-hot.

"Fuck, good girl, that’s my good girl," Joel groans, thrusting into you faster, until he presses into you harder than ever before, and you feel his thick cock twitch and throb against your cervix. Something hot bursts into you, and Joel keeps fucking into you for a couple more seconds, his eyes falling closed. Then, pulls out of you, your pussy fluttering, and he falls down next to you on the bed. You feel like jelly – you couldn’t move if you tried. Joel’s cum leaks out of you slowly, an odd, but pleasant sensation, and you sort of wish he would push it back into you.

After a couple of seconds, Joel pulls you against him, your face coming to rest against his broad chest, and he presses a kiss to your hair. You inhale his scent, and your spent muscles relax further, if possible.

"You did so good," Joel mutters, "so perfect."

His hands trail up your side and arms softly, a soothing contrast to the insistent way he fucked you. Your mind is pleasantly quiet, all caught up in his voice, his scent, his touch, his spent leaking out of you.

"Thank you," you sigh, and Joel chuckles. You smile weakly.

"Wanna get cleaned up, sweet girl?"

"No," you manage, "just wanna sleep."

Joel huffs a laugh, and tucks you more tightly against him.

"I’ll wake you before dinner."

***

When he does, the sun is already sinking. He trails kisses up and down your face – the softest way you’ve ever been dragged back to reality and out of a dream, and the first time you think reality is more fantastic than anything your sleeping brain could come up with.

"Mornin’, sleepyhead," Joel mumbles, catching your mouth in a kiss, his lips moving against yours slowly. You sigh into his mouth, when he pulls away.

"We should take a shower, baby, and you need a pill."

You open your eyes, a little confused.

"A pill?"

Joel raises an eyebrow.

"I mean, I’m not opposed to children, but I think your Dad might be," he says, and you snort weakly. Right, you think, the morning after pill.

"I’ve got an IUD, Joel, don’t worry."

He presses a kiss to your collarbone.

"Back to Joel, are we?"

You blush, and he laughs. It’s blissful, and a little unreal – Joel Miller, teasing you about the debauched, perfect sex you had not two hours ago.

"You prefer Daddy?"

"It’s…got a ring to it."

You can hear the smirk, even though your eyes are closed again, and you’re stretching your tired limbs. You yawn.

"How about room service?", you ask, Joel’s hand softly stroking the hair out of your face.

"Hmm," he mumbles, trailing one hand over your stomach, "or… we take a nice shower, you let me clean you, we have dinner with you lookin’ all fucked out, and everyone downstairs will know what we’ve been up to."

Your eyes open, and although you’re entirely, completely spent, your thighs clench together. Joel grins.

It’s quite the picture – Joel, with an arm around your shoulder ordering two cocktails, the redness on your skin from where he sucked too harshly or his beard burned you. You can see it in front of you, the same waiter as yesterday bringing your food, except this time, Joel lets you use his fork to try his meal, and instead of hurrying down to the beach afterwards, he’ll kiss you slow and long, just because he can, in front of every other guest in this hotel.

„Yeah…or that."

[bejeweledinterludes]

❝ are you in the mafia? ❞

❝ … am i in the what? ❞

「 pairing 」 : dean winchester x mafia ! reader

「 word count 」 : 1.3 k

「 content / warnings 」 : mob/mafia, incorrect mafia lore that i tweaked because i said it was okay to, canon-compliant violence, mentions of death, swearing

you have one ( 1 ) new message from the author ! ↓

HEYYY this was a request from @hpxmcusworld! i did end up making the reader gender neutral, i hope that’s okay— and that you enjoy, because this was really fun to write! thank you so so much for requesting and your kind words! <3

my masterlist

disclaimer: reminder that these are works of fiction. i do not support the real-life mafia / mob. read more here.

𖤐 ────────────────────────

this was so cool stupid.

that was the only thing going through dean winchester’s mind as he and sam knocked on the door of a very much too-big and not at all cool as shit house— because who in god’s name needed six garages with some fuckin’ awesome vintage cars? and a damn fountain in the driveway?

rich and pompous assholes.

that’s who.

“this ‘s so stupid,” dean echoes his half-thoughts out loud in a low mutter— throwing in an eyeroll before adjusting the tie of his fed threads.

sam squinted his eyes at his brother’s sheer reluctance to get through one single day without complaining— but before he could even say anything, a maid opened the door, looking between the both of them.

“can i help you gentlemen?” she asks, standing up a little straighter when she notices the suits.

“fbi, ma’am,” dean nods matter-of-factly as he flashes his badge, sam following suit. “need to speak to the owner of this house. it’s about the murder three days ago. it’s urgent.”

damn right, it was urgent. children were dropping like flies left and right in chicago— dying with no warning and decomposing almost immediately.

they needed answers.

so sam’s extensive research and cross-referencing police records had brought them to here— to the gigantic hand-carved wood front door of one of the families that currently ran the chicago mob.

(it also helped that one of the kids that died had been from this family, too— but sam enjoys click-clacking around on the computer.)

“oh, yes, of course,” the maid immediately recognized who they were talking about— why these definitely real fbi agents were here. “come in, please. i’ll notify of your presence.”

dean fights the urge to get excited roll his eyes.

again.

. • . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . 𖤐

“sorry to keep you waiting,” your voice rings out— one that sounded like you weren’t really sorry at all.

both dean and sam’s heads perk up to look at you, the supposed owner of the house entering what the maid called the ‘sitting room’.

which was actually pretty sick, because it totally felt like a mafia movie. you sat down in the matching lavish sofa across from them. you nodded once to the maid, who excused herself scurried off immediately. dean was reminded of a scene from goodfellas, one of his favorite movies that was similar.

which wasn’t cool at all.

“you look a little young to own a house this big,” dean bluntly remarks before thinking twice— and received a ‘dude’ look from sam.

they weren’t wrong. you appeared to be the same age as dean and sam, give or take a few years— and unmistakably attractive. though, you always thought the old architecture and style of the house made you look better.

“well, technically, it’s not exactly mine— yet,” you clarify, crossing a leg over the other as you eye the two men. “but it will be someday. i’m the next best thing right now. my father’s… handling business elsewhere.”

immediately you noticed the fact that they were not like any usual stick-up-the-ass dickwads that usually were oh so graciously in your presence— they seemed… pretty close to normal, actually.

“right,” sam interjects before dean could make some other comment that would end up with them back at square one. “anyways, we’re here because of—”

“my brother,” you interrupt sam, your eyes still flicking between them— and a slight smile on your face. “but, then again, you aren’t actually real agents, now are you?”

both dean and sam look at each other at that, a slight tremor of panic passing through each of them. dean speaks up this time—

“we—”

“are hunters,” you finish, titling your head a little as you look between them. “see, i do my research, too— or rather, my people do. you’re dean. that’s sam. you’re brothers, and you hunt monsters for a living.”

both dean and sam had whatever words they were going to say taken away from them when you dropped that bomb— they were used to having to tiptoe around that subject.

“well, it really is a good thing you’re here,” you continue without a beat, leaning back against the couch again, “i’m used to monsters being… y’know, people.”

dean and sam had finally relaxed a little after the initial shock wore off— and dean was starting to realize you weren’t what he expected. and maybe this wasn’t as stupid as he thought.

it was kinda like a godfather movie, if he was being honest.

and dean loved the godfather.

“you don’t seem like a complete…” dean trails off. in this line of work, it was rare to encounter someone with a good head on their shoulders, especially if they were filthy rich— but then again, he was glad he didn’t have to babysit.

“asshole?” you finish once again, raising your eyebrows, your smile ticking up higher. “yeah, it skips a generation. so, what’s the plan?”

“the plan?” sam echoes, both he and dean scoff a little, glancing between each other and you.

“yes, the plan,” you exaggerate the last word as sam did. “firstly, how many soldiers do you need?”

“soldiers?” both dean and sam echo you this time, their expressions mixed with shock and bewilderment.

“are you going to repeat everything i say?” you shake your head a little, uncrossing your legs and reaching to pour yourself a glass of whiskey with the crystal bottle. “yes, soldiers. i’m sure you’ve heard of la cosa nostra.”

oh, shit. la cosa nostra. dean’s heard the stories from the times he’s been through illinois— it was the ruthless mafia army composed soldiers from all 5 crime families that ran chicago. the mafia’s dean looked between you and his brother— and his eyes were a little less shocked. more… excited?

“you can— you have soldiers? that would help… us?” sam is the first to speak, considering dean was a little too… preoccupied about how cool this was actually was.

“well, they’ll do anything i say, so, yes,” you smoothly lean back against the couch again, re-crossing your legs. “they’ll be at your service, if you require it.”

“cool,” dean finally speaks, a slight smile turning on the corner of his mouth.

sam snaps his head to his brother, suppressing a slight eyeroll before talking to you again. “well, we don’t really know what we’re up against, but—”

“my resources will be yours,” you interrupt, placing your crystal glass of whiskey down. “anything you need, just ask.”

“really?” dean tilts his head, smile getting a little wider. “anything?”

“anything.” it was your turn to echo as you glance between them, talking a little quieter. “my brother didn’t… deserve to die the way he did. he was just a kid.”

“and we are sorry that happened,” sam attempts to revert the conversation back to the case, and not dean’s awestruck demeanor. “we can’t imagine.”

“we’re gonna figure out whatever this is, and make sure it never happens again,” dean snaps out of it for after a second— because he could imagine what it was like to lose a younger brother. he actually has before. “we’ll get the sonofabitch— y’know, make him swim with the fishes.”

that makes you smile— actually, genuinely smile. for the first time since your brother had died a week ago.

“i have no doubts,” you nod, uncrossing your legs once more, standing up and already starting deeper into the house as you talk. “now, let me show you the weapons hall. you boys might be able to use a couple things.”

“the weapons hall? dude,” dean almost jumps up from the couch, slapping sam on the shoulder— to which raises an eyebrow, shaking his head. the facade dean always put up when he was trying not to get excited was almost gone, if not completely. “c’mon, get movin’ sammy!”

okay, dean supposed, maybe working with the mafia would be cooler than he initially first thought. because this was kinda cool. you were kinda cool.

mostly the mafia part, though. not necessarily because he thought you were super awesome or anything.

at least, that’s what dean was telling himself.

───────────────────────── 𖤐

my master taglist (so far): @blossomingorchids @bluemerakis @ambiguous-avery @maddie0101 @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @sunsbaby @emeraldcrs @h8aaz @honeyryewhiskey @supernotnatural2005 @cowboysandcigarettes @soldiersgirl @figthoughts @mostlymarvelgirl @amaris444 @kaz-2y5-spn @littlesoulshine @starzify @velvetparkerx @eggggggggggggggggggggsblog @fuckedupfate @liiiilsss @angelblqde + i missed anyone OR if you want to be added/taken off, please just comment / send an ask! <3

[a-tiny-thing]

break in pt.2 // m.l

burglar!mark x rich!reader

pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4

he's never coming back...

you already told yourself that multiple times, but you were still standing on front of your dining room's window, looking around for any signs about mark's arrival.

"honey, what are you looking for?" your mom sweetly called out your name, making you halt your actions.

"oh, nothing, just nothing" you shook your head, but it's not convincing enough for your mom to believe you.

'clearly, there's something going on' your mom thought. but she just doesn't want to bother you more.

her and his husband's jewelries went missing a few nights ago, but it didn't bother them that much since those were actually old and boring to wear now.

they also planned on going on a trip to a another jewelry shop someday to buy more.

"well, just sit down for a while and eat 'cause dinner's ready"

you walked over to a chair with a slumped back, sat down with a defeated sigh, and ate.

he's never coming back...

he already got what he wanted...

you told yourself again, just to make you let go of him already.

meanwhile, mark is back on the streets.

stealing phones and wallets as usual, with his best buddy haechan.

"yo dude, you should get that guy" haechan held onto his left shoulder, came close to his ear and pointed at a middle-aged man in a luxurious white suit, busy typing on his phone as he stands in the middle of a sidewalk.

"why can't you?" mark looked at him and asked.

"'cause i'll be handling that poor old lady right there" haechan pointed at the lonely granny on the other side of the street, waiting for the green light turn into red so she could walk, using their walkers.

"and if i helped them cross the street, she would give me lots of money!" haechan smiled at the thought.

"and if she doesn't?"

"i'll steal their purse" haechan said, as mark shakes his head.

"whatever, i'm on that guy.." mark said before walking towards that middle-aged man.

he ignored haechan's "good luck" behind him as he thinks of a way to rob that guy without being caught.

mark then, stands too close to him, but seems to be unnoticed. he looks around the area, pretending to admire it to avoid suspicions from other bystanders.

his hands slowly reach up to the man's left pocket, the fat wallet with credit cards and cash are coming into his view.

holy shit...

mark cautiously dipped his hand into the man's pocket, his fingers finally coming in contact with the leather texture.

'i got it! i got i--' mark slowly lifts up the wallet until

"MARK!"

"huh?" he muttered as he turned his head around quickly to spot a familiar girl running up to him fastly.

"hey wait! no!" he said, but you already hugged him.

it was you.

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

you thought that maybe going around the city with your parents can take your mind off him.

and oh boy, it didn't.

you stilk think about the kiss with him, every now and then.

it's driving you insane.

"do you like to buy something, sweetie?" your mom asked, sat beside your father on the driver's seat, looking at you through the rear-view mirror inside the car as she applies her lipstick on.

"yeah i guess so, i'm planning to get new shoes, my classmates already saw my old ones multiple times" you told them, thinking about the time your other rich classmates made fun of you for wearing the same shoes in school thrice.

"okay! me and your father will just be hanging out at the jewelry shop right there" your mom said, pointing at a jewelry shop you didn't even bother to look at.

they dropped you off to the side, as the car you were just in drives away to another direction.

you strolled around the city, finding some nice shops to shop in, and thinking of mark as well...

hmm, i wonder what he's doing right now

you thought to yourself, until you spotted that oh so familiar black beanie.

you couldn't believe it!

"MARK!" you screamed before running up to him. the people passing by suddenly stopped to look at you until continuing to walk again.

the middle-aged man was nudged a little, so he decided to move away from what's happening.

mark frowned at him leaving, and then looked down at you, still hugging him.

"oh my god, i thought i'll never see you again" you said to him, basking in his warmth.

his hands mindlessly went to hold onto your waist and push you gently, hoping you'll get the signal from him to let you go.

"don't you know i've waited for you for so long to come back?!" you looked up at him with some cute puppy eyes. you hope.

"I..." mark clearly doesn't know what to say as he looked to the side and spotted haechan watching them, sporting a beige purse on his arm with a smirk on his face.

"help me" mark mouthed at haechan, but he just laughed at him.

mark looked down on you.

"uhh, okay, it's nice to see you again too, but i have to go" mark said to you, finally making you let go of him.

"huh? where are you going--" you asked as mark quickly leaves the area. you couldn't find him anymore.

he left you confused and dumbfounded.

AGAIN.

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

"so you're telling me, you kissed this girl so you won't get snitched out, and now she's in love with you and stalking you around the city?" haechan says to him, his ass sitting on the poor and abused sofa with his feet propped up against a wooden table as he pulls out the contents of the old lady's purse one-by-one.

they're currently at their secret hideout, haechan's basement.

"yeah, I clearly didn't know what to do next, it was so stupid of me. fuck!" mark says back, pacing back and forth on front of haechan, his hands on his hair.

"well, that's good because you will now be able to get closer to her and her family. they will let you in their mansion, and if you got in, you can steal everything you want and just leave immediately like you were never there" haechan reasons, suddenly pulling out an inhaler from the purse, then throwing it aside.

"what? no way, i would never do that!" mark replies to him, stopping to look at haechan's face in a disgusted way.

"geez, it's just an idea" haechan said, putting his hands up to tell mark to calm down and let it go.

"well, whatever, she's your problem anyway and not mine..." haechan chuckled as he pulled out a bundled cash from the purse counting it immediately, ignoring mark.

mark sighed and plopped down beside haechan, watching him count the money.

"yo, you have to give me a share of tha-" mark says as he feels up his now empty pocket.

wait, huh?

mark quickly checked his pockets to make sure he's not crazy, but he's really not and his wallet totally gone!

it only has $16 in it, plus his old school ID and his family picture that he cherishes.

where could he even dropped or misplaced that.

better yet, who even stole it?

"yo dude, did you take my wallet?" mark nudged haechan's shoulder to ask him.

"i would never steal your empty and ugly-ass looking wallet" haechan stated to him, still looking at the huge money he's holding in his hands, counting it over and over again.

"i'm serious dude!"

"i really didn't!"

if it's not haechan, then...

oh no.

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

after mark left you alone again in the city, you were not really disappointed with it.

you were on your bed, kicking your feet up in the air as you look at mark's old school ID and family photo.

oh he looks so damn cute.

you really didn't think mark wouldn't feel you taking his wallet while hugging him.

you laughed at the thought, guess he wasn't the only one with robber skills after all.

'i hope he tries to get his wallet back from me'

[dellalyra]

Hey,i saw your reqs are open! So if i may, can i request for gojo with a fem s/o who i as strong as him but no one knows that since she hides that from EVERYONE. (Maybe she thinks shes alone with a curse and she is toying with a special grade curse and easily kills it, and gojo accidentally sees that and is like.... You're stronger than you let ppl know?)

Thats it and i hope u have a great day!!

Family Formation - Part Nine

Summary: Satoru discovers the extent of readers cursed technique.

CW: fluff, canon typical violence, mentions of mythology, fluff, fluff, teen satoru and reader (17/18), the elders (angry face)

A/N: this was SUCH A FUN REQUEST I love reading about powerful readers so this was a lot of fun to write, I wrote it this was bc I also felt I needed to explore their dynamic pre-relationship and also Y/N’s cursed technique before I get to other *ahemshibuyaahem* parts of the story. thank u all so much for all the love and support :) <3

Recommended Listening:

Brutal - Olivia Rodrigo (reader’s fight)

The Fruits - Paris Paloma (the explanation)

The Tradition - Halsey (the backstory)

Won’t Bite - Doja Cat (the ending)

The sunlight reached its peak, reflecting off Satoru’s bright white hair. Geto was bored and taking a ‘rest’ day and Shoko… well, she threw a water bottle at home when he even approached her room. That left you, he needed someone to hang out with, something to do because all of this hanging around was going to drive him even nuts than he already was. He text Shoko, asking where you were since you two were joined at the hip usually and you weren’t answering your phone. She replied telling him you’d been sent on a mission alone that morning – some abandoned orphanage down by the Shinjuku district. The next line nearly made the man’s eyes pop out of his head – a semi-grade one? Alone? You were only in second grade and the same age as him. Only a 1st year. Sure, you could hold your own in a fight but – this seemed like a reckless match.

Pulling on his sneakers and bomber jacket (not wearing his uniform felt weird) he Googles Shinjuku Abandoned Orphanage and finds an article about one being shut down 3 years ago due to the children speaking of ‘witnessing paranormal activity’, it had been closed due to the terrible publicity surrounding it. He rang for a driver and pointed him in the right direction.

A 20-minute ride was filled with Satoru thinking about how he should have been sent on this mission – not you, he was the strongest sorcerer alive after all. He kept telling himself the gnawing feeling in his gut was excitement for a fight – not worry, he wasn’t worrying about you. No, not. Why would he?

He could hear Suguru’s voice in his head from their last mission together.

“Bro, you love her. Just accept it, my guy. It’s clear she’s into you too.”

The car pulls up and Satoru unfolds himself from the back seat and waves the driver off. The building in front of him is surrounded by barbed wire fences, it’s been vacant for a long time if the boarded-up windows set in the building’s imposing front are anything to go by. He could sense a strong cursed energy, definitely a semi-grade one – along with something else, something stronger. Something far more ancient and far more powerful. It was familiar but different.

He had to find you.

He pinpointed the location where both energies were – third story, east wing, 5 doors down the corridor. He raced his way down thinking about how he’d love to practice his techniques warping abilities so he could quit all this running around. Maybe someday in the future, he’ll be able to just *poof* into a room. He was surely gonna do that to annoy Shoko.

He slowed down, nearing the room as he heard a familiar laugh coming from the room.

He knew that laugh, it always made his heart skip a beat – but why were you laughing now?

You were meant to be in danger. Not that he was hoping to be your knight in shining armour so he could see that shiny look of adoration in your eyes – no, that’s ludicrous.

The door was hanging off its hinges and nothing could have prepared him for what he saw inside the room.

You.

Y/N.

But – different.

You stood, your stature still miniature in comparison to his lanky, boyish frame but you seemed so much larger now, your presence was pulsating through the room – overwhelming to anyone but him.

Your feet were bare on the concrete floor and you seemed to almost hop around your prey, your tiny little hands, nails usually painted a pretty pale green – we’re still pale green but not your nails, no – claws were protruding out of your dainty little hands. He could see from here they were as sharp as any cursed knife. Your hair, seemed longer and wait, were those… vines? Vines and leaves seemed to grow from your head as naturally as the hair itself, mingling with the pretty cascade of your hair down your spine. Your eyes he so often couldn’t take his own off were alight and you were talking, and when you opened those pretty lips that he flirted with you about how much he’d like to taste your lip gloss – leaving you to tell him to save his flirts for someone he was into (both of you were so oblivious to the obvious feelings that you held for each other that Shoko and Suguru might cry if it went on any longer), he saw two sharp as needle fangs, pearly white on your pillowy lips.

You were completely and utterly ethereal.

What shocked him – was the mess in the middle of the room. A grotesque mess of a curse – horrifyingly long, spindly limbs attached to a body that was just stretched mottled skin over bones – the whole body covered in beady eyes, almost insect-like. The creature had no discernible head, just those torturous limbs. He’d seen worse things before.

He had seen your techniques, you could do things like to make a wall of thorns to deflect curses - he’d seen you summon whips of vines to lash at and bind a curse, he’d even seen you seemingly have a chat with a ladybug one day. And of course, your marksmanship with your cursed longbow was unrivalled, sniping shots that seemed impossible. He knew you were a very capable sorcerer, the most intelligent he knew in the school (even beyond Nanami). Your love for books helped that too.

What shocked him was what you had done. It looked like the very earth was cooperating with your every whim, grasses and vines and tree branches had broken their way through the floor and were caging the fighting curses limbs as they grew weaker and weaker against your onslaught. There was a beam coming through the ceiling, moonlight? At 2 pm? It seemed to sear and burn the curse in licking flames as it shot down onto it before returning to the shape of a small, silvery orb and absorbing itself into your palm.

“You lay here, waiting each day for night to fall, didn’t you? To prey on these children, to torture their little minds with fears and terrors – to be the monster under their bed. The children who were already scarred and frightened – but you knew that, and you loved it, didn’t you? Oh, you loved the feeling of drinking up the screams of those innocent children – and do you know what that makes you? It makes you a monster. Funnily enough, my family were taught and raised for one destiny, but me especially, I was born with ancient rage, and I was born with the strength for one thing – to kill monsters, just like you.”

And with that, you notched an arrow into your bow and muttered something under your breath.

“You won’t harm anyone anymore. Sleep well.” And with a smile, the arrow tip glowed a soft gold and flew threw the air into the restricted body of the curse who was quickly engulfed in a golden light as it screamed and fell, returning to the ground as nothing but dust.

“Nurture the earth now, do some good for the world.” You whisper, low enough that Satoru could barely hear. How you still manage to keep your heart so soft will always amaze him.

Satoru’s phone dropped from his hand, and you spin, notching another arrow into your bow and aiming directly at his head.

You gasp when you realise who’s here.

“Gojo, what are you doing here? How long have you been there?” You ask, lowering your weapon.

“Y/N. What the fuck. YOU HAVE CLAWS.” His jaw was hanging open, hardly believable image of what he’d seen.

That ancient energy wasn’t another curse, you hadn’t been in danger – you had been the danger.

You sigh. Gojo would have found out sooner or later, guess it was sooner. A part of you was worried about what he’d seen, would he think it ugly? Would he think you cursed? This boy – you had accepted your feelings but even though you thought (idiot) he’d never love you back, you didn’t want him to think any less of you.

Well, no escaping this conversation now.

“Wanna grab boba? I’m done here so, we can grab some on the way back to school. I’m guessing you have some questions.”

Uncharacteristically quiet, he just nods.

You walk ahead, slinging your bow on your back and taking out your phone. He sees you dial Yaga’s number.

“Hey, yeah it’s all done. Just as we thought.” You say, and he hears the deep rumble of his sensei’s voice through the speaker.

“Yeah thing is, I’ve had an unexpected visitor. Seems someone thought I might not be able to do it alone so showed up at the end. Yeah, I have it handled. Yup, exactly who you think. Yaga! Stop! I’ll see you later.”

You hang up the phone, just as you reach your favourite boba shop.

“Drinks are on you, Satoru – you gatecrashed my mission.” You smirk.

“Hardly gatecrashed if I turned up and feared for the safety of my pretty face!” The shock had worn off now and he was just in awe and desperate to hear what the fuck he witnessed.

He ordered you both your usual orders and sat across from you at a secluded table outside. You notice the dewy drop of sugary tea on his lip, his skin glistening under the golden sun. God. How can someone be that beautiful, surely it’s illegal?

“So sugar - you’ve been hiding something from your dearest darling best friends, haven’t you?” He looks at you with eyebrows raised.

“Not my choice. It’s a complicated situation. Yaga thought it best to keep it under wraps until I’m 18.”

“I hear ya – but the question still stands: keep what under wraps? Here was me coming to my princess’s rescue,” your cheeks flushed at his (what you thought) casual flirting.

“It’s a long story – you sure you’ve got nothing better to be doing, Mr Honoured One, no ladies to dazzle with those pretty eyes of yours?” You laugh, slurping up a brown sugar Pearl.

“Oh I’ll always have enough time for you, sugar, plus – am I not dazzling a pretty girl now?” You both giggle it off, unaware that he’s being serious and that you were dazzled by him long before today.

There’s a beat of silence.

“My family’s inherited technique. The elders think it’s long extinct but I was born with it. Legend says my family is descended from dryads, forest spirits, you’ve known that nature is the root, no pun intended, of my technique since the start but – it goes a bit deeper. I’m listed as grade two, but only because the elders don’t know the truth. I’m meant to hide everything until I’m 18, so only 5 months left to go anyway. The elders will throw a bitch fit when they find out. Your ancestor La and mine worked together, and when I was born my mother and grandmother chose to keep the technique hidden until I was legally an adult and could make my own informed choices about whether or not I wanted to stay part of the jujutsu world. The elders… don’t take kindly to my family. We’re kind of considered outcasts, like the Inumaki clan.” You say, taking a breather to sip your drink.

“Why? Your mom is so nice” He adds in.

“Ah well, my family, we’re very much a matriarchal family. The women have typically done everything in their power to fight the elders on their idiocy. Given that they’re old, sexist men – this didn’t go down well. So we’ve typically been hounded by them. Then, I was born. Not only the heir to my clan but a woman which ancient cursed abilities. Our family has always scared them, but I’m their worst nightmare trifecta. I made a deal with my family, I’d keep it secret until I’m 18, then I’m free to do as I wish..” You added, smiling, because in truth – being the bane of the elders’ lives was a source of pride.

“So they hid it until you can make your own choices, and take the helm of the clan leader at 18?” He asks.

“Yeah, my mom just wants a quiet life. She’s travelling the world writing of jujutsu sorcery and my grandma is holding the fort. We’re not quite the Gojo’s, Zen’in’s or Kamo’s – but we’re a very old sorcery family, so we’ve influence enough.”

“Y/N. You know you’re not grade two, right?” He asks, dead serious.

“I know, Gojo. I’m special grade. Yaga is a friend of my uncle’s so he agreed to keep it all quiet.” You finish up your drink.

“Gojo – what I’ve told you, only Yaga knows. This stays between us, okay?” He nods and crosses his heart.

“And don’t worry, you’re still the strongest. I’m just good backup.” He giggle, swinging your bag over your shoulder and motioning for him to follow.

“You say that part of your technique is ancient? And thought extinct? Which part? Now you’ve told me I wanna see everything.”

You look back and forth between the streets, and you find an empty alley.

You stop.

He stops.

“Snow leopards are your favourite animal, right?” You ask and he wonders why his heart skips a beat at you remember such a silly detail.

He cocks an eyebrow and agrees.

“I’d tell you to close your eyes, but it won’t do much good.” And with that, a flash a golden light encompasses you and instead of the oh so pretty girl he loves seeing in front of him is a snowy white, fluffy, golden eyed leopard.

And in a flash, you’re back in front of him.

“I can’t do it for long. It’s still really taxing to do and zaps my cursed energy.” You say, gripping his elbow and making your way back to the main road.

“Y/N. I hope you know. That might have been the coolest thing ever. Oh! Can you do like a little mouse so I can just hide you and carry you around in my pocket all day and give you cheese and –” his enthusiasm is cut off by your loud laughter.

“Maybe when I’m stronger Satoru, then I’ll stay with you all the time and you won’t have to follow me to my missions when you’re bored.” You’d text the driver to pick you both up.

“Hey! I was worried! I didn’t know you were some freaky nature fairy when I left did I? !” He grins, and god he looks so handsome in the late afternoon light.

You swat his arm.

“You’re one to talk Mr. I have nearly the same number of eyes as a spider.” And with that he tosses your much smaller form over his shoulder.

“Hey – you might be cool but I’m still the strongest and right now, it’s time for me to demonstrate that.” You half heartedly thump at his back as you laugh at him to put you down.

The car pulls up, a curious gaze from the driver who is thoroughly confused by why you’re over Gojo’s shoulder.

He tosses you into the backseat of the car.

“That’s for keeping secrets from your bestest friends ever.” He flicks your forehead, buckling your belt.

You just roll your eyes.

The drive back home is filled with idle chatter, but Gojo can’t stop thinking about how goddamn fucking perfect you are. You’ve always been strong, kind, beautiful, sexy, funny but god the feral determination he saw in you today shook him to his very core. You say your goodbyes as you head to shower and sleep, but your phone buzzes that night – with a terribly photoshopped picture of your face on a mouse, captioned – ‘btw- ur technique, it’s really beautiful Y/N, I’m really hpy I saw you like that, and thx for telling me, u nd ur secret r safe w me ’. You can’t fight the smile on your face, a weight lifted off your shoulder now that the boy you love knows everything about you – well, except that one secret. The one that you’re hopelessly in love with him.

Maybe some day.

TAGLIST: @vesta-ro @lilithlunas @mialexandruh @sassy-cat-in-town @madam-ri @cjm-cookiethief

Requests open <3

[sierrathelilypad]

I’ve reached the realization there is absolutely not enough little Yosano content. Like yes she’s caregiver vibes but give her back her childhood??

Little Yosano headcanons pretty please?

You don’t have a pinned so I’m not totally sure what all your accepting requests for do honestly you can do anything with little Yosano- Or you can politely tell me you’re not accepting requests! That’s fair too :3

I hadn't really thought about putting it on my pinned post/profile because i didn't think i'd ever get one ( o´ｪ｀o) maybe i'll have to change that... I'll totally write it!

Little!Yosano headcanons

[plain text: little!Yosano headcanons]

ʚ ɞ Yosano has such cg vibes but also i can't help but think how she felt when Fukuzawa took her in. Maybe now in the timeline she leans more as a caregiver, but back then?? Back then Fukuzawa was a single father of two teenagers somedays and father of one or two toddlers/babies on the other ones (Ranpo totally regresses, you can't convince me otherwise /silly). He doesn't mind, the ADA at the time wasn't constantly busy so he could spare a lot of his time for the little ones. Of course he gave attention to Ranpo and Yosano even when they weren't regressed, but they needed a lot more attention when they were.

ʚ ɞ When he's not regressed, Ranpo is an awesome older bro. He knows almost everything (he isn't allowed at the kitchen unsupervised without a reason haha). He knows when hugs are needed and gives Yosano the best ones in the whole world, he can find lost itens in a matter of seconds and he recomends the best age appropriate books and series to her.

ʚ ɞ I think Yosano would be a really bright toddler. She loves playing with those science kids sets, seeing science cartoons and making little experiments with Ranpo (like those acidity experiments with red cabbage and lemon that turns blue or pink).

ʚ ɞ So. Many. Tea parties. idk, i just think it fits with her. Her bringing her dolls to the porch or the grass and silently drinking the tea Fuku made for her - of course he sits with her when he can! Ranpo isn't too keen about tea, so he joins them only when there is pastries involved.

ʚ ɞ During her recovery, when she was in a wheelchair and used other mobility aids, i like to think Ranpo and Fukuzawa got her a really comfy blanket so she could sit on the floor to play and not be uncomfortable. Lots of cute and fluffly pillows where given to her as well.

ʚ ɞ Natsume is totally part of the family. He's like an uncle to Ranpo and Yosano, coming home from his travels with knick knacks and sweets to both of them. Sometimes Fukuzawa is busy so he has to babysit the two, but that'a not a problem! He brings them to parks and for some reason there's always cuddly cats walking around him...

as I've said before, this was fun to write! I atill have some other ideas but i wasn't able to aarticulate them right now so maybe i'll make a second part in the future! Thanksss so much for the request, I will totally work on a proper pinned post now >:]

[midorisudachi]

“The Inquisitor And Her Commander”

As some of you may have noticed, I am a huge fan of the Dragon Age games, especially Dragon Age Inquisition. Last year, I had planned on drawing all the main [playable] characters up until Dragon Age Day (which took place on December 4th), but I just didn’t have time to draw more than three characters (the Inquisitor, Solas, & Varric…please check them out in my gallery) due to being busy with work and other things. I’ll eventually draw the other characters when I gather more motivation to do so.

For now, please enjoy this piece. I hope everybody likes this. I worked very hard on this artwork. It took longer than usual to create, due to all the small details, the poses, & the armour. (Armour is not easy to draw for me!) For those of you who are DAI fans, you may recognize the flowers: Crystal Grace on the bottom and Andraste’s Grace on the top. I know Andraste’s Grace is not in DAI, but I thought it would be pretty to add to the artwork (since it technically exists in the Thedas world).

 My OC Inquisitor is named Bryony Trevelyan. She is actually my 2nd Inquisitor character, the first one having been an elf (which I may draw someday). I had been playing DAI for the 3rd time, a few months ago, as a male character (since I wanted him to be in a romance with Dorian, so yes, my male Inquisitor is gay), but I stopped for a bit since I am playing Skyrim at the moment (with updates & mods). Anyway, back on the main subject: I drew Inquisitor Bryony Trevelyan in the Armor of the Dragon Hunter outfit (from the Jaws of Hakkon DLC), which I had altered the colours by tinting it with Veil Quartz. I based her crown from concept art for DAI. So much armour in the game! Which I love, especially since the DA games don’t give female characters the stereotypical skimpy outfits…I love that I get to make my female characters wear bad-ass armour.

Cullen Rutherford is such an adorable and slightly awkward character around my Inquisitor. I knew I had to romance him right away, because his looks are the type of man I am attracted to in real life. (I’m not going to lie…in the game, he’s hot for a video game character. Ha ha!) I’ve always enjoyed the flirting in the DA games when it comes to the relationships. The best scene was right before their first kiss, when Cullen got interrupted by a member of the Inquisition, and then got mad about it. Ha ha. I liked when my Inquisitor asked Cullen, “The day you kissed me on the battlements…how long had you wanted to do that?” And Cullen replied (with a laugh), “Longer that I should admit.” Awwwww.

I also liked the part in the Winter Palace, when all these people were flirting with Cullen, and one asked him, “Are you married, Commander?” And Cullen replied, “Not yet, but I am…already taken.” Double awwww, because a loyal man is so dreamy. :3 I actually had Bryony & Cullen get married in the last DLC. :3 They adopt a Mabari (dog), too!

I love DAI too much. :D It’s such a fun game with the most gorgeous graphics (especially on the Xbox Series X).

Drawn with Sakura Pigma Micron pens, then coloured in with a mixture of Copic Markers & Ohuhu Markers. I used Koi Watercolours for the background. White accents done with both a gel pen and white watercolour. Gold acrylic was used for the Inquisition Symbol & the lines, which the scanner absolutely murders...the gold is such a pretty, shimmery metallic in real life. The light green around my art was done in Photoshop Elements.

Dragon Age Inquisition © Bioware & Electronic Arts

Fan artwork © Jacqueline E. McNeese

[masterserris]

Submas Fic: "We Will Meet Again" CH.3

My friend @eusouomar (Ingo) and I (Emmet) have been working together on an rp timeline!

This timeline is based on the concepts of Yin (Ingo) and Yang (Emmet) reincarnating through the ages, much to the surprise of the twins, and how to move forward knowing this and getting their lives back to normal after bringing Ingo home from Hisui. Shenanigans and fluff and angst ensue. Let it be known a happy ending is always the goal and the inevitable future. Enjoy!

Notes: NO SHIPPING in this fic.

General Warnings for the fic as a whole: strong language, depictions of mental illness, addiction, grief, violence/gore, character death, self harm, suicide mentions

MASTERPOST (TBD)

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Emmet doesn't play nice with nasty people.

Yes, for the first time in a long while people were smiling genuinely. Emmet could perk people up but only so much. Ingo was the heart of the railway; Emmet was more of the brains. Or logistics, rather. He had a lot to do. Employee reviews later, but first he had a queue of battles to run through while he was on the tracks. Sometimes he would be in the HQ room monitoring the stations from the screens, other days he had to do the leg work. This was definitely a leg day. Emmet pulled out Electross and Archeops and tipped his hat at the first trainer. 

“You’ve done verrrry well to get this far, but I’m afraid this is your last stop. All aboard!” The doors shut and the crowd watched from the seats as the first battle of the day began. Emmet was…. Merciless. He didn’t go easy on anyone, not anymore.

Thankfully one had to beat 20 depot agents before earning a fight with a subway boss so no beginners could get totally destroyed. Still, Ingo felt like something was off. His brother liked winning, sure, but there was something wrong in the air around him as the next challenger stepped forward to fight him. Ingo looked at the rest of the passenger's faces to see what they thought of the fight.

Emmet smiled fiercely and hit the opponent with thunder wave to pin them in place, then followed up by ferocious rockslide to slam into their poor paralyzed Pokémon. The crowd winced at the impact, Archeops often got carried away in battle and Emmet was not leashing him back. The opposing trainer

's Wartortle was no slouch but even it couldn't take the barrages of attacks. It, the last pokemon in a varied team, finally fainted leaving Emmet the winner. Ingo carefully watched Emmet's face. Was he really enjoying this?

A thunderbolt fried it silly. Truthfully, even with a smile on his face, the joy did not reach his eyes. He was not being challenged here and this was just going through the motions. He had much more volume since only the double lines were open for a boss challenge. Everyone wanted to try and beat the undefeatable Subway Boss Emmet. He was notoriously challenging and had only grown more so as he had to face everyone all of the time. Still, he clapped for the boy. “You tried your best! More hard work like that and you might just come back here someday for a rematch! This is your stop, have a nice day!” The doors slid open to let the passengers out. 

Everyone exited the train. Ingo stood up to talk to Emmet. "Are you okay?" He tried to keep his voice down so that others wouldn't hear. "I just have a feeling."

Emmet glanced over at this brother. He could just tell him he was fine, but he had been doing that for years now and it got him nowhere but strained relationships with family and friends. He couldn’t lie to Ingo either. It was time to heal and be honest. Like his therapist told him to do. 

“You’re not wrong brother!” He said shyly. “I haven’t been myself for a long time either, like you. These battles… aren’t much fun anymore. Not like this at least. I’m sure things will get better when you start working again, yup! It’s just a lot of routine and going through the motions. Sucks the life out of everything, you know?” 

Ingo was glad that Emmet could feel honest with him. "You know that never gets old? I thought it would but it doesn't." He told Emmet truthfully.

“What doesn’t get old?” Emmet asked not fully understanding what he meant.

"You calling me 'brother'." Ingo answered truthfully. "I like when you call me that."

Emmet snorted loudly. So silly. “Well, get used to it!! You’re gonna hear it forever now!” He patted his back and smiled broadly. For real this time. Emmet would have more challengers after this, but his Pokémon didn’t tire. He healed them after every battle and they were used to this by now. They always trotted over for pats and nuzzled up to Ingo as well for praise. 

Well, he could be a little too sentimental for people's tastes. Ingo sat on the chair and watched as a shadow. When one of them, Eelektross, came over he smiled and stroked his head. "Hey boy. How are you doing? You're getting quite the workout today, aren't you? You usually work this hard?"

The eel nodded and snuggled against his leg until the next challenger would come in. Yes, this was their new normal. A stern looking trainer was next and tossed out their Hydreigon and Leipard without saying anything. Emmet just smiled more as a “bring it on” kind of vibe, but his smile faded quickly as the battle grew fierce. He knew that fighting style. “Shouldn’t you be in jail?” He asked kindly. “Not many Ex-team Plasma members run free anymore.” She froze, ah shit. Caught.

Ingo froze at the mention of Team Plasma. There were painful memories that name brought up for him. Those people had tried to kill his uncle, tried to kill them, and had killed a few of their depot agents. He clenched his jaw at the sight of them.

“Galvantula, bug buzz!” The spider knocked the Hydreigon down with a powerful sonic blow and she was finished as Eeletross hit both of her Pokémon out with discharge. He would let her run off the train, but she didn’t seem scared, “I did my time.”

 “Hmm. Was it enough? For everything you all did? Or is this a way to vent your frustrations? This is your stop.” The doors opened and she glanced back at him before departing. Sometimes dangerous folks came aboard. Or just lost ones.

"At least I didn't murder my own brother." She spat back at Emmet before turning and leaving to get off the train car. 

Oh no, not with that attitude. Emmet scruffed her and hoisted her off her feet. He was stronger than his thin frame looked. “Oh really? Wanna eat those words?” He made her face Ingo. 

"Let go of me!" She growled at Emmet as he hoisted her. When she came face to face with Ingo, part of her stiffened at seeing his unsmiling face. "Nice Zoroark." She told Emmet in defiance.

“Nope! Wrong! Eelektross? Do me a favor and use thunder wave on this one. She is banned from the premises and I would like for the police to check her record in case she has not, in fact, done her time.” The eel glared at her when Emmet dropped her before it and gave her a hell of a shock. “Sorry brother! Unruly passengers! Boss has to take out the trash!” 

"What a shame for your beautiful train." Ingo had an urge to kick her while she was down and paralyzed but he was too professional for that. Zoroark indeed. Bitch. 

"But I suppose it's one of the few downsides of the job. Does that happen often for you?"

One of the agents came to carry her away, "Not often but vandalism is common. There was another this morning before you two showed up." 

"Vandalism?" Ingo asked.

“Ugh, again?” Emmet rubbed his brow. “They like to write verrrrrry nasty things about me, brother. And they take it out on the subway itself. Awful, really. Defacing such wonderful trains with their paint. Blech.” 

"Why!?" Ingo demanded standing, "What has Emmet ever done to them?" 

The agent looked uncomfortable but answered, "Everyone thinks that White Boss killed you. Everyone blamed him for that." 

"The news said that the police cleared Emmet of that crime." 

"Well, yeah officially." The agent nodded, "But most people believe, unofficially, everything the Unovan Enquirer tells them. The story is that White Boss got rid of you and stuffed you in a tunnel somewhere to be the only Subway Boss."

A memory flashed in Emmet’s mind as he frowned. Back to when he had gotten ahold of that damned paper. 

This was a little dramatic, even for her. Sarah got up on the train but it was empty save for two depot agents: Stefan and Isabelle and the man himself. The White Boss Emmet Kudari Gray of the very illustrious Gray family. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. Made for an excellent paper. 

"Very smart." She complimented, "Getting two witnesses here with you. Very, what's the word? Strategic, but then again, I've been told you're a very calculating man, Mr. Gray. Have to be to get so good at doubles battles."

“Enough snark, miss. I’m here for business since your secretary keeps dodging my calls and tossing my letters. I thought I would go straight to the source. I want you to retract those headlines. It’s verrrrry rude, you know. Verrrrry mean. And verrrrrry much wrong. You could get sued for such things, you know! It could end your very paper if you aren’t careful!” He held up his finger with a smile at that, “I’ve had a verrrrry rough time because of you! Two trips to the hospital in fact!!” It was hard to keep his voice under control. Oh yes, he definitely blamed her for the riot and the incident. 

"Well that truly is unfortunate." She replied, "But people have a right to the truth no matter how unpleasant it is. Unless you have actual evidence stating that any...theories the Enquirer prints are wrong, there's no compelling reason for us to print a retraction."

“The truth. Hah. So verrrrry rich coming from you. You also have no evidence for any of these accusations, no one has ever found any bones down here and yet here you are claiming someone saw them. Fuck. You.” He wasn’t smiling. He was done with her shit entirely and didn’t care the mask was gone. 

"Look, I'm just trying to get by, same as you." She replied unfazed by his anger. This wasn't the first time someone had been pissed about an article her company published, "These things fade with every new scandal. People will move on but positions don't. I'm still the Queen of the Gossip Scene and you're the sole ruler of the Subway. The unbeatable Emmet Gray. As soon as some celebrity gets arrested for dope or some politician gets caught with his hand stuck in the cookie jar you'll get everything you ever wanted. My sources tell me you like winning more than anything else. If that's not winning, I don't know what is."

“You just can’t help yourself from LYING, CAN YOU!?” His fists balled in rage. “You bring up this ridiculous story all the time, you can’t stop beating a dead horse for every worthless penny! You don’t care who gets hurt, who even gets killed because of you! A man is DEAD, Sarah, because of your bullshit! We are not the same! I serve the public, I work hard to make life easier for people, and all you do is spread lies and misery! You could get money by sticking to the facts just fine, you don’t need the rage bait, but your greed demands it! You and your diamond earrings and Kalosian handbag, you make me sick!” Never had the agents seen Emmet fly off the handle at someone like this. It was different from a scolding, different from an emergency or an attack. This was personal. This was rage. “Retract those damned stories or I will sue you into the ground. That’s an Emmet Gray promise.” 

"Boss." Stefan put his hand on Emmet's shoulder in case he tried to take a swing. That wouldn't help their case at all and would just give those bastards more ammunition.

 "Those are dangerous words, Mr. Gray. Dangerous and unsubstantiated. My paper just prints theories. You're the one who knows this subway inside and out. You're the one who's killed people. You're the one who benefits if your loud, obnoxious, idiot of a big brother suddenly disappeared off the planet. We don't espouse or encourage violence of any kind. As for calling me a liar." She got up right to his face when Isabelle stepped in to get between them. Isabelle was daring Sarah to even try it. 

Sarah just stopped and smiled before looking over Isabelle's shoulder, "Why don't you prove it?" After a beat she added, "This is my stop. Thanks for the ride." Sarah moved to get off the train.

“Cunt.” Emmet was so mad it didn’t even register on his face. He needed to be away from people right now. What she said about his brother made his blood boil unlike anything else. If there was one person in this world he wanted to actually kill, it was her. Not even the man who attacked him deserved his fate as much as this bitch did. The doors slid shut and the car moved on. “Isabelle, could you do me a favor?” 

"Yeah boss?" Isabelle asked, turning to Emmet, "You want us to put her on the no ride list?"

“Nah. She’s going on the Shit List.” A rare list. One where nothing was done to the passenger, but everyone everywhere in the service industries knew of. They were all connected. And knew to give that person hell everywhere they went, and not just the subways. Diners, stores, hotels, everywhere. People hated Emmet, but the Shit List was a cut above. An unspoken rule, a line not to be crossed. “Please make sure she gets on the most packed rides with the people coming home from the gym. Good and smelly. Oh, and I’d hate for her lovely white handbag to get hit with coffee. Or maybe pomegranate juice. Perhaps Megumi could help with that.” 

Isabelle nodded, "On it Boss." People may hate Emmet but he wasn't the only one in the service industry. If it came from her, the others would be more likely to uphold it especially when Isabelle repeated what she had said about Ingo. 

Stefan let go of Emmet's shoulder. "Boss, you okay?" He asked.

“No. I’m not. I need to be left alone tonight. Radio me if you need me, but I will be in the maintenance tunnel for now.” 

"Got it. We'll cover." Stefan said. 

"But." Isabelle wasn't so sure if leaving Emmet alone was a good idea or not. 

"Izzy. Give him some space. He'll pop up again." She looked at Emmet worried as the car pulled into the maintenance station.

He would salute to them with a frown and disembark. Emmet waited for the car to pull away before going to the cans of spare parts and kicking them with all of his might and screaming at the top of his lungs. He pulverized a few tins under his boot with ferocity, pretending it was that bitch’s skull. Oh how he wished to crush her into pulp beneath his heel. Pistol whip her. Grind her nose against Ingo’s tombstone. Her fault! It was all her fault! He was so mad, so angry. Hot tears ran down his face and he set up some target practice to shoot. He pretended it was her, silently. In an enclosed space like this the gunshots were so deafeningly loud and the bullets ricocheted around if he wasn’t careful. He emptied all six chambers into the can and threw his gun at it to knock it completely over, stand and all. 

“Fuck you..” He cried as he slumped against the far wall. He tucked his legs into his chest and hugged them. Emmet buried his face against his thighs and sobbed quietly, letting it all out. Alone in the dark with only the lights above him for company. He would kill her, one way or another. Maybe not physically, but he would ruin her reputation and business so far she would never find work ever again and go bankrupt. If it gave her even a fraction of the pain she had given him, he would make sure it would happen. Emmet would return to the main station an hour after this, his hair combed and his attire back to normal. He would be quiet as he worked and his eyes puffy, but that was all. It was all he could do. 

In the present Ingo stared at the depot agent, "Emmet would never hurt me." 

The agent nodded, "I know, Boss." 

Ingo shook his head, "I'm not your boss."

Emmet walked over and quietly put his hand on Ingo’s shoulder. “Relax brother. Everything will be alright. I will get my name cleared soon enough. And you will earn your job back. I know we can do it together, yup.” His voice was low and soft. Distant, but still full of care. Emmet glanced up as the train approached the next station. “It’s break time brother, why don’t you go on with Peters to get something to eat?” 

"Come eat with us." Ingo said, turning back to him trying to get a hold of himself, "We can all get something together."

“No can do. This train must keep running. I brought a snack, now all aboard!” The doors slid shut and the train rolled onwards without Ingo. Peters went to Ingo’s side. 

“C’mon boss. This way. White Boss has it covered.” The agent would lead him to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. There were new faces who had never met Ingo before. How was everyone reacting to him?

Of course, they knew the story- that he had disappeared for five years. And they knew the rumors- that Emmet had done it. Killed him and hid the body in one of the tunnels. Maybe chopped Ingo up and fed him to his Pokémon. So of course, they stared at him like he had come back from the dead and speculated what could've made him leave for five years. It made Ingo feel like he was under a microscope. He reached in his pocket and squeezed the Light Stone for self-comfort. Turning to another agent they were with, Ingo asked, "Does Emmet seem different to you?"

“Shoo, ya Mandibuzzes, can’t a guy take a break in peace?” He made the more annoying folks piss off for a bit. “Different? You mean compared to before? Yah. Way different. But you seem out of it, so I guess it’s hard to tell huh?”

"Yes." Ingo confirmed, feeling grateful for less people, "Could you tell me in what way please? I've got a bit of an idea but I feel it's been the more censored version. But then again it could be my brain trying to fill in gaps that aren't really there. 'Not everyone is a major character in a story'." That last bit was a quote someone had once told him in Hisui.

“Hm. Well. He is short with people. He used to love to yap, but now he always has to go from one thing to another. He doesn’t always mean it, but he can be verrrrry stern, hah!” The agent grew serious again. “Some people called him Killer Boss, at first it was part of the rumors but only us old hands call him that now. We’ve reclaimed it from the gossipers. Buncha twerps.” He took a drink before continuing. “He doesn’t ask for help but we know when to step in. It’s a lot more body language. Some days are worse than others. Like he’s just a passenger in his own body going through the motions.”

Ingo took a drink from his own cup as the depot agent spoke. "Did a lot of people give him problems? Like any old Plasma team members?"

"Boy, you don't know the half of it." He said wide eyed and adjusted his cap. "Shit, I damn near got killed one day. Plasma didn't go softly after being defeated, there were always groups of them running around, especially in the big cities. Especially in the dark corners. So bingo, that means here. You and Emmet kept 'em pretty far off but when ya... vanished, they got bold. Reaaaaaal bold. They tried hijacking the trains a couple of times. Boss had to pack heat so he wouldn't get jumped and we got batons and tasers."

Hmm, interesting. Could this be a power play or was there something more to this? Suddenly, Ingo saw someone over the depot agent's shoulder. No, impossible. "Excuse me!" Ingo said a little too loudly standing up and rushing out the door. A turn down the corner and he was gone.

The last incident with Plasma was over two years ago thankfully. They ran outta steam for the most part. The depot agent followed him. "Huh, what was that about? See someone?”

"I thought I saw..." But that was impossible, wasn't it? He'd have to be over two hundred years old by now, "Apologies...I thought I saw someone from long ago but it appears I was mistaken. It must be the stress from returning. I didn't mean to disturb your break."

“It’s alright boss, you have it too, huh?” He sat back down with Ingo.

"It?" He asked, sitting back down again.

He glanced around and lowered his voice. “You know… seeing things? White Boss was real bad with it.” 

"Emmet had hallucinations?" Ingo made sure to keep his voice low but he had a tendency to go loud if he didn't consciously think about it. Emmet had mentioned it to him, but it was different coming from someone else now. It was sinking in how far it went.

The depot agent clammed up, realizing he had put his foot in his mouth. "Er... Well." Shit. "Y-yeah. He does."

There. He knew people were keeping things from him. "You say 'does'. Is it still current?"

"Well, yeah. It never went away, he just is... better with it than before." Cat's outta the bag. "He even smoked for a stint there, he would go to a slow station and take a break, muttering to himself as if someone was there. It was.. really sad. He would say he would see you and go running off. We would take care of things until he came back a half hour later looking like a mess. It was... bad."

Ingo made no face or noise of judgement. He just nodded his head listening along.

"Is that why that one depot agent thought that I was Emmet?"

“He sometimes dressed up as you, Boss.” He confirmed and looked down. “He would try and mimic your mannerisms but it was really bad. Sometimes you’d think he really fooled himself to play the part, but he would come back the next day sullen and in his white clothes. He would always apologize and just wanted to keep spirits up, but it did the opposite. That and it made the gossipers go wild. Thinking he was feeling guilty for gutting you. He broke, he went completely mad. I don’t know how else to say it. Sometimes he never left the station for days. He would wander the tunnels a lot looking for something. For you, I guess. He would wander the same routes over and over like some ghost possessed him. Really spooky when he was wearing your outfit.” 

"He looks so put together." Ingo gasped. He had a feeling that Emmet was trying to hide his hurt, that he was shielding Ingo from something, but he had no idea how bad it had gotten.

"You know I'm not upset? I'm just sad he felt the need to hide this from me." He admitted, "I wouldn't judge him for it, ever. Emmet's been through so much because of me. Thank you for being honest with me. I will keep our conversation confidential. I don't want to reopen any of Emmet's old wounds. I do have one final question and I hope you will continue to be candid. Did Emmet...did Emmet throw himself in front of the train?" They had talked about it this morning. He had seen the notes. Ingo wanted confirmation.

“Well, he has been doing better this past year and especially in recent months, so there is that. And… I don’t know. He always looked so worn out, I wouldn’t be surprised if he fell, but the timing was spooky. Maybe he was so tired he was even tired of living. I dunno. White Boss is strong, so very strong. Anyone else would have keeled over 6 months in. And he really cares about everyone. He’s tried so hard to hold everything together, he lost hold of himself. It’s good to have you back, Boss Ingo. We all… really really missed you.” He offered his hand to shake before it was time to hop back on the trains. Emmet’s train. 

"Thank you." He gave him a good firm handshake and prepared to put on a happy face when he boarded Emmet's train. Well, as happy as Ingo looked anyway. To the untrained eye he always looked like he was frowning. He smiled at Emmet. His brother had been so strong and went through so much.

"You sure you don't need a break? I wouldn't mind battling. It's all I did back in Hisui."

“You’re not on payroll yet, bro.” He laughed and shook his head. “Not allowed! Against the rules! I don’t want to throw you off of my train, now do I?” Still, he welcomed his brother aboard. “Refueled and ready? All Aboard!” The doors swung shut. The battles were almost over, they had a set cut off time at 5pm, but he still had to man the car like a depot agent might. Ticket checking, general presence to keep hooligans from running amok, and a smile for the passengers' sense of ease. Well. As much ease as they could get from him. “After this, it’s time for some safety inspections.” 

"Your train?" Ingo teased back, feeling himself chuckle despite it all. Still, he remained at Emmet's side like a shadow. He nodded at the mention of safety inspections.

"Make sure everything's in working order and that the tunnel tracks are cleared."

"I am the Boss, aren't I?" He gave Ingo a coy look. "I'm in charge, and don't you forget it!" 

He had to push and tease him around a little bit. Though some people would shift uncomfortably. Ya know. Because that's why Emmet killed him in the first place. Were they hallucinating a dead man too? No.. it was just so awkward. 

"Precisely," Emmet nodded. As the last passengers disembarked, the train went down a separate track for daily cleaning while they got off and would walk the tracks. He handed Ingo a lantern. "Now don't you dare get lost. Stay next to me, ok?"

"Do we need these?" He asked Emmet, "I remember in Hisui I can see very well in darkness. Can you as well?"

Still, he took one and didn't argue. The tracks...this was where Ingo had disappeared five years ago wasn't it?

"No, we don't. But it will help us see any little bit of debris. And more importantly, someone will see us if they are heading down the track our way. It's for our safety and theirs." Yes, he had disappeared along the tracks, that was true. Which ones exactly? Emmet had a guess but never an exact location. Lots of ghost types like to live down here which wasn't much of a problem because they could just go through walls and not be hurt by the trains. Chandelure liked these walks and popped out with a little sound of happiness.

Ingo gave one of his not-smiles at Chandelure. His oldest and first Pokémon. Even Ingo couldn't remember where exactly he disappeared. Still, he kept by Emmet's side and looked out for debris.

The firelight from the lanterns and from Chandelure made the shadows dance around them. Cling to them. Ingo was Yin, the black, he melded with shadow. Emmet was the Yang, the white, but he emanated shadow, not melded with it. Emmet casted shadow. Ingo emerged from it. Still, they were being watched by Pokémon as they passed. A little Dreepy nuzzled up to Emmet’s side for a pet, glad to see him again and Ingo. They had lots of friends down here. The tracks were clear. No one was lost down here and nothing was broken. All of the sensors worked too. Goody. As they walked the light of the next station came into view slowly. “And here we disembark. Thank you for coming with me. Now I have some interviews to do and paperwork, but after that we are going home. It wasn’t too bad of a day, was it?”

"Not at all!" Ingo agreed, "It was very pleasant. He'd stay with Emmet at the office while he finished up the last bit of paperwork and interviews for the day. He didn't mind the wait at all.

During the interviews he was doing performance reviews for the agents. Emmet had to put his big boss face on. Most were good, some were… not. He went into a separate office to do those, but it was glass so you could see inside. Verrrrrrry serious when he had to be, but when the last person was done, he looked so burnt out. “I was never good with those,” he muttered to Ingo before plopping the paperwork down into the filing cabinet where it belonged and was later saved to the servers. A few Joltiks tried to climb up his legs but he had to shoo them away. He couldn’t play much anymore, unfortunately. 

“I’m sorry, Joltiks, but this train is heading for the maintenance station! All passengers are to disembark here. I will see you tomorrow!” He gave a little salute to the tiny pokemon who skittered away with a happy squeak. He sighed. 

“Let’s go home.” Man it felt good to say that. His days were verrrrrrry long, it was 9pm almost. He worked 6 days a week. Three days of work, one day of rest. Rinse and repeat. That way it was always different days of the week he had off, so he could rotate shifts and keep an eye on all things, never neglecting any one shift. Rarely he did the night shifts. That was more of a bi weekly event. The night air felt so cool and brisk when they emerged from the tunnels. He sighed in relief.  And held his coat under his arm. 

Ingo was by his side walking with him although his coat was still on.

"Is this your normal work shift or did you have to pick up more because of my disappearance?" He asked him as they started the walk home.

“Ah...er... Well! It’s normal for me now, but when we worked together, it was less. We could go on separate tracks and keep an eye on things more consistently, we could have two days off every week and would be done by dinner time.” 

Good, then when he was hired, Ingo could really help take a load off.

"Are you hungry? I could make you dinner." He offered.

"Nopenopenopenopenope!" Emmet wouldn't have it. "Not a chance!" 

"Why?" Ingo asked, giving him a bit of a pout.

"One! It is my treat. You have returned home. I have already planned to make an old favorite! Two! You come from Hisui! I don't exactly trust you around a stove yet! Not until you show me you remember how to use it! Three...! I want to!"

"I'll have you know cooking over an open fire is a lot more difficult than a stove." Ingo huffed but relented, "Oh you do? And what is my old favorite?"

“You have several! I’m not going to tell you. You will have to guess it while I make it! You can help, if you want.” They reached their building and took the elevator on up. Emmet unlocked the door and tossed his coat and gloves on a chair. Ahhh it was nice to be back. He washed his hands and would get started right away. Most of the Pokémon came out to relax too. They had lots of Pokémon food and berries for them all the time, they never went hungry. 

Ingo let out all of his Pokémon to relax, even his friends from Hisui that were still new to this place.

“Hello, I am Emmet!” He waved happily to all of them as he got out the flour, some eggs, and a bit of salt. A little olive oil and some water too. He was busy, yes, verrrrry busy, but he was happy! So many new friends. And Ingo! Thankfully their condo was plenty big enough for all these Pokémon. Emmet… had a lot of cash. He didn’t do anything with it except pay his bills and research. Not until now at least.

Things seemed to be going well. The three groups of Pokémon, Ingo's old team, his new team, and Emmet's seemed to be getting along well so that was one thing they didn't have to worry about.

"Are you making a cake?" Ingo asked moving into the kitchen and watching his brother go this way and that with ingredients.

"Hahahahah, nope. This is dinner, silly." He playfully flicked a little flour at him and kneaded the mixture together with such force and vigor. He had to.

Ingo took a little flour and flicked it back again laughing. "Okay, you're mixing the dough...are you making pizza?"

"Hm, closer! I'll give you a hint. It's potato flour."

"You do like to keep me guessing...Gnocchi?"

Emmet blinked. "How the fuc-" Well shit! He got it! "Yes, yes, it's gnocchi. Now would you mind making the sauce for me? Recipe is in the book."

"I thought you didn't trust me near the stove." He teased but got out the book anyway.

"I trust you enough now that you have an idea what we are doing," he smirked. He was doing the hard part at least. He had strong arms. Emmet was lanky and thinner than before but it was all lean muscle. Ingo however... he was a real survivalist now.

Climbing cliffs and battling off alpha Pokémon did that to man. Ingo began to hum a tune as he worked Crustle rubbing up against his leg like a cat. She had really missed him.

Galvantula had a web hammock in the corner of the room she liked to nest in. They all had their special spots. Archeops wasn't small but he liked to park his ass on Emmet's shoulder and watch him cook. And beg for scraps of course. Emmet hummed with Ingo. Man it felt like the old days. Even though it was getting late, making good food always did lift the spirits. It would be ready and it would be so good.

"Perfect! Bravo!" It was so good too. Emmet hadn't felt this happy in... Well, he couldn't remember! He kept waiting to wake up, for this all to be just a dream.

It was no dream. It truly was him and Ingo and all their Pokémon reunited again. The older twin smiled at Emmet's use of his usual phrase.

"Thank you, Alakazam." He told the psychic Pokémon as he poured the sauce on top of the gnocchi. Alakazam had been using his mind to set the table.

"Smells delicious." He told his brother.

One last pokeball wobbled on Emmet’s belt. Dialga. It whined a bit, wanting a taste of gnocchi. “Even immortal dragons cannot resist pasta.” He laughed. 

"Will Dialga and Palkia be able to fit in here?" Ingo asked. It wouldn't be fair to give some to one and not to the other.

"Not really!" But the dragons were pushy and they pushed out of their pokeballs, instead emerging outside, hovering by the window.

"Hey! You're gonna scare someone!" Dialga chirruped and nudged his arm. Emmet relented and let them have a portion, which they gratefully accepted.

Not wanting Palkia to feel left out, Ingo put some in a little bowl for the dragon to eat as well.

"Thank you again, for taking us back home." He told the pink one. Despite being embodiment of concepts in many ways, the two legendaries were like any other pokemon. Then again, Ingo supposed he didn't have any room to talk about being an embodiment of a concept. 

Palkia reached down and placed their hand on his head gently. Their claws were like steak knives, but the water dragon was as gentle as could be. After their little snacky, the dragons returned to their pokeballs, satisfied. It was getting late, real late, so after a little cleanup they had to go to bed.

Fine with Ingo. He was absolutely exhausted. A quick shower to be clean for bed and he would just collapse in a deep sleep Chandelure hovering at the foot of his bed. How well did Emmet sleep?

He passed right he heck out, he was very worn out from the day and while his brain was buzzing happily, he needed the sleep. Hopefully no nightmares would bother him here, it was the last thing he needed. He would sleep soundly that night. If they did have nightmares Chandelure was more than happy to eat them.

Chandelure was a very well-fed dream eater indeed. But they could rest. Dawn broke and the boys got up. Doing his routine with Ingo again put a pep in his step. It was real, he was really here with him! 

“Alright, Ingo! Ready for round two? Today should be smoother, I don’t have as much to catch up on.” 

It would probably take a business week for the paper work to get through for Ingo to get his job back. Until then he was happy just to shadow Emmet for a while.

"I'm ready!" He told him happily. For now, he was fine with just following Emmet as he did his usual.

“Alrighty, all aboard!” Entering the station, the agents were happy to see him again. Like they needed the reminder that this was real as well. 

“Hiya boss! Boss one and boss two!”

 Emmet smiled and waved. “Alrighty, today, you are going to be in the command center! I will come by after some battles, but these maps will help you get used to the layout.” He would leave Emmet under the care of Peters before saluting and departing on the battle train. 

"Wait! Where are you going?" Ingo asked. If Ingo was supposed to stay in the command center, then what was Emmet doing? What the hell was he even supposed to do in the command center?

“Brother! You must learn the train routes again! And keep an eye out for hazards on the tracks through the monitors! Don’t worry, Peters will give you the tutorial! See you later!! All Aboard!” 

Oh dragons. Hopefully Ingo could remember this. Thankfully Peters was a very patient teacher. The cheat card he made Ingo helped as well. By midafternoon Ingo was beginning to get some confidence when...there he was again. How?? 

By about two pm Peters hit Emmet up on the phone sounding like he was going to piss himself. "Um...Boss? Could you come back to control? Please?"

“Hmmm?? Peters, I am in the middle of the battle. It’s verrrrry rude to interrupt! Is something wrong?” Emmet hoped not. 

"I've lost Black Boss. I can't find him anywhere!" Peters told him. The others could hear that over their work radio and the noise that came over was like all hell broke loose.

Emmet froze entirely as his heart literally stopped for a few beats. “You… What!? How!? He didn’t just wander off! You’ve checked the cameras, right?? Where was he seen last??” Emmet pulled away from the radio quickly to apologize to the trainer and cancel the double battle. He would award them their allotted BP as if they won as a consolation prize and hopped off the train towards the command center at once. Everyone was going to cycle their shift to cover him as he left his post. Someone to cover him, someone to cover the person who left, someone to cover them, so on and so forth. This… was a common occurrence when things happened.

Most of the agents were shaking as Emmet came in. Peters stood in front of them ready to report. "Boss, he went out one of the side exits. The cameras lost him after that. I thought he just went to lunch, but he never came back."

Emmet swore loudly. “Get a hold of city surveillance and see if they have seen anything. DAMN IT!” He clenched his fist in frustration but then let out a breath. Breathe. “We will find him. We will. He probably just got lost on the way back, yup!” Emmet forced himself to be positive, to smile, even if it clearly pained him. His silver eyes were not happy at all.

 “I will go up top and see if I can spot him, okay? I trust you to keep things running smoothly down here.” He placed a gloved hand on Peters’ shoulder. “I trust you.” 

Was that sincere or a threat? It was hard to tell with his mask on so uncannily. Emmet trusted you, Peters, and now Ingo was gone. Again. He is trusting you to keep things on track too. It would be good for Emmet to head up, away from the others as he was clearly distressed. He didn’t want to take it out on his agents, he had worked so hard in therapy to keep a lid on things. Emmet marched to the surface with his radio still on. He had been trying to stay on the bright side about Ingo just losing his path, but as time ticked by, he grew more and more frantic, and his composure was leaving him quickly. He grit his teeth. 

“Not again. I can’t even have two days of my life back, can I?” He muttered to himself. Emmet was clenching his fists now and then he got an idea. “Dialga!” 

He summoned the god of time in the alleyway, which was thankfully large enough to accommodate it. “Show me the past, where did he go?” Dialga’s eyes shone brightly and their crimson glow dominated the light as their gem began to emit light as well. Like a ghost, Ingo was shown: his exact movements as he had left the station. What happened to him? 

"Boss..." Peters face said it all. He didn't mean to lose Black Boss like that. He saluted in response.

Ingo had seen a man, a blonde, and followed him out of the station and onto the sidewalk, "Excuse me, sir!" The blonde ignored Ingo and continued walking, weaving through the crowd. "Sir! Volo!" 

Ingo called out but he lost him. Maybe...maybe he was mistaken. After all, if that was Volo, he'd be well over two hundred years old by now. Ingo should head back. As Ingo turned around he felt something strike his back shoving him into the road. He froze as he looked at an oncoming truck but then fell backwards into his own shadow as the truck slammed onto the breaks. 

From the sidelines, the vision showed Volo watching with a serious look on his face. "So it's true. You were right there under my nose the whole time. Guess I'll have to wait until you can crawl out of your shadow world. Don't leave me waiting, Warden. We're gonna change the world together." Then the vision ended.

Emmet ran after the spectre and saw his brother get pushed in front of the truck to his horror. 

“NO!” He reached out, but it was just a mirage, it was in the past. He stared at the ground. Oh dragons, he was killed! But…. There was no blood here. What the fuck? He would radio his team about what he saw and had the cameras pull the footage from this street corner for the police as well. 

“Agents, I want the man in blonde put on the no ride list. I want him found, if he shows his face in this city again, have him arrested. Our search continues, but if I see him again, I’m going to…” He was going to say kill him but he couldn’t be doing that over the radio. “Apprehend him.”

He would make sure the security systems AI would flag him with a red alert if he ever came back. Emmet marched down the streets for a while before returning to the tunnels. “How did he just… vanish!?” What was all this about? He had his hackles raised like nothing else and his aura ran foul as he returned to the station. What else could he do other than alert the authorities and keep a look out? 

As for Ingo he found himself in what looked like a dark tunnel littered with stars. No, not stars, windows. Catching his breath after that close run in with the truck he began to explore looking for a way to get out. These windows of light looked out into different sections of the world covered in shadow. He didn't know about Emmet's aura but he felt a pull to a particular window...the station! Gear Station. He could see Emmet and the other depot agents!

Emmet had friends in high places. If Volo showed his face in Nimbasa City again it would be known.

"Yes sir, White Boss!" 

Emmet was storming about with a frown on his face. He would not leave the station until he found Ingo. He had called Elesa and the whole subway was on high alert. No one liked this. It wasn’t the first time White Boss had gone off his rocker with a red alert, but if it was true that Ingo had been there yesterday and this morning… Maybe he had a reason to. This was bizarre. Ingo going missing twice out of the blue. Emmet wouldn’t let it happen again. Well… it had happened again, but he hoped this time he could do something about it and save his brother from years of isolation like he had gone through in Hisui. Dragons… Ingo had been gone for 30 years then. Would he even survive another round of that? Emmet tried to shove these paranoid thoughts out of his mind, but the fact of the matter remained that they were surrounded by supernatural events whether they liked it or not and he had to deal with it. Fix it. Emmet would march down the tracks with his lantern, clutching it with a death grip. He was furious. 

The track tunnels were nice and dark. "Emmet!" Ingo called out his voice echoing off the subway walls.

The boss whirled around at the sound, casting the light and searching through the darkness. There was nothing. He was about to call out to his brother, but the realization struck him and he felt sick and angry with himself. How was he supposed to search for him like this? When he could hardly trust himself. Emmet stopped in the middle of the tracks and picked up a rock, throwing it with all his might against a wall with a scream that tore his throat. The rock shattered into tiny bits on impact. He clenched his teeth as hot tears ran down his face. He tried to stay calm. He tried to keep it together, but he couldn’t right now. He breathed heavily and glanced at the far away track to see if any train was coming, not that he would be willing to move. 

A few days. He had Ingo for only a few days and then he was torn from him again. Was this some sick joke!? Bile rose in his throat and he slammed his fist against the wall. Ow. He could hardly feel it over the roaring in his heart and mind. His soul. He wanted to tear every brick down in his path to Ingo. If he was gone again, he just wanted to die. And that man. He wanted to watch the life leave his eyes as he strangled him to death. He crouched on the tracks for a moment, putting his arms over his head and wailed out his frustrations into the empty air. Vent it, then breathe. Breathe. Remember your lessons. He would have to up his dose for sure today when he got back to his desk. He caught his breath and stood again, adjusting his tie and mask before continuing his patrol down the tunnels. 

"Emmet, listen to me! I'm stuck in here!" Ingo called out. He remembered what the agent had said. Hallucinations. He thought that Ingo was his own brain playing tricks on him. "Emmet, go get Stefan or Isabelle and bring them here! If they can hear my voice you're not hallucinating!"

No one else could be the subway boss, no one was better at it than the twins. But still. It made some people wonder if the city should fire Emmet for all of this chaos. Not that Elesa would allow it, but she couldn’t protect him forever either. He wasn’t in much danger of losing his job, but if he really cracked publicly, he might get suspended again. Emmet paused again and listened. This was…. Hnnnrrrghhh. He turned and looked again, dreading what he would see, but there was nothing there. 

“Stuck where!? I can’t see you! I-if I leave how will I know where to find you again!? Wait!” He pulled out his radio and called for the two agents to meet him here in the tunnel. No. Emmet would not wander off. He would stay and wait. “Ingo, what the hell is happening?”

All of the usual ghost Pokémon fled from Emmet when he was like this. He scared them. His aura bled pure hatred for the blonde man and sorrow at the loss of his twin. Again. Reopening a fresh wound just recently stitched together. Still, Emmet didn’t give into it. Not completely. He still had hope in him, somewhere. That tiny light that would never die. 

"Someone pushed me in front of a truck. I thought I saw someone from my past so I went to track him down but I fell down here." Ingo knocked on the window with a frustrated growl. Stefan and Isabelle met Emmet on the track. 

"Boss, what's up?" Stefan asked, "You find Black Boss yet?" 

"Agent Stefan! I'm here!" Ingo cried out. 

Stefan whirled the flash light, "Where? I don't see you! You in the walls?"

Emmet was stunned. Holy shit, he wasn’t just tripping. That changed everything. Emmet had texted Elesa to track down the blonde man and get any information she could on him. From his past, eh? From Hisui?? This was a meditated attack. This was some bitch who knew Ingo back then and then came here to stir up more shit. Oh, he was extra dead now. Volo. From the Gingko Guild. Emmet palmed the dark orb in his pocket as a stress relief. What do we do? 

“How are you on the other side of the wall? The sewers don’t run through this area at all. Still, we will shut down this section of rail, yup.” Hearing Ingo’s voice was at least a comfort. 

"No, don't do that. I don't think I'm physically on the other side of the wall." Ingo explained, "I'm somewhere dark with lots of these pockets of light-" 

"Oh no! Boss! Don't go into the light!" Isabelle called out.

"Ah, I don't think it's that kind of situation. All these pockets look out onto the world. I can see the three of you for-" Ingo cut himself off as Isabelle turned her flash light towards him and the window disappeared. "Boss? Boss?"

“Ingo? INGO!!” Emmet yelled and pounded at the wall. He swore in anguish as his brother had been cut off from him AGAIN! How many times could a man take this? He waited for a response but there would not be one. Not while Isabelle had her flashlight pointed at the wall. Bitter and angry he turned on his heel. “He HAS to be somewhere! Keep searching the tunnels!” 

Isabelle moved, going to continue to search with Emmet. "That's it!" Ingo's voice called out again, "It's connected to light and shadow! Emmet, remember when we went to the temple?"

Emmet whirled around again at the return of his voice and trotted over to the wall, leaving his lantern behind. He pressed himself against the wall where his voice was the loudest. Ingo had always been a big mouth, heh. 

“Brother! You…” He shook his head, it was all so crazy. “Well, what the hell are we supposed to do if you’re stuck in a shadow??? Can’t you reach out from it?” 

"I'm trying!" Ingo huffed. Honestly if Ingo could, wouldn't he by now? "This might take me a while. Emmet, you and the others have to get out of the tunnel and get back to work."

Emmet belted out a laugh. “Yeah right! As if we are gonna leave you behind, brother! Nope! Not at all, I am staying right here, yup! Stefan, Isabelle, go head back to the command center and brief the others on what is happening. And no, it’s not a case of the white boss days. It’s real this time. You know that.” Emmet, despite wearing all white, plopped down against the wall and sighed. “I won’t leave you,” he promised. 

"Emmet." Ingo sighed but Stefan shook his head, "It's no use. You know once White Boss makes up his mind there's no changing it."

"We'll make sure the trains reroute so that this tunnel isn't used." Isabelle said, "But Black Boss, you need to figure this out as fast as possible! We need you both back." The two would turn to head out unless Emmet had anything more to say.

No, Emmet would nod to them, grateful for having such good agents. No. Friends. Hours would pass. Elesa had told him who this blonde was and now he had a name for that damned face. But Emmet was not much for words right now and cut their conversation short. It was approaching 2am now. He was still sitting there with Ingo, lantern on the ground and bags in his eyes as he rubbed them. He felt himself getting dizzy and nodding off. 

Emmet heard his name and his head snapped to her direction hoping to see... Well, you know as he awoke.

 “Ah Elesa. I suppose you’ve come to collect me like last week’s trash, hm?” 

Something was wrong, he was no longer in the tunnel, he was in the maintenance station and it felt like days had passed. Like he wasn’t himself. A passenger in another body. His memory was all jumbled too. Ingo was missing, they had no trace of him, none at all after he vanished. Three days had gone by. 

"Emmet, have you eaten anything? Have you slept at all?" 

He just blinked at her and sighed. "We both know the answer to that one." He put his head in his hands. "I don't know what to do, Elesa. I can't do this again. I can't. Dialga showed me where he went and I'm... I'm too scared. I feel like I'm dying all over again, Elesa." He lowered his hands and stared forward unfocused into the darkness. His back was hunched and his hair was frazzled. "You don't have to put up with me, you know. You have plenty to worry about other than coming down here." He rubbed his knuckles, still sore from when he smashed them days before on the tunnel wall. 

"Don't say that." Elesa said going to his side, "You're my friend. I stayed by your side then and I'll do it again. Ingo would want you to take care of yourself. What happened to your hand?" She asked looking at it. 

“Busted it on the wall. It’s not broken, just the skin got scraped." He let it go limp in her hand as he stared forward. If Ingo was there, he would be choking on the rancid aura of Yang here. It was like a miasma. “Ingo, where the fuck did you go..?”

She didn't know about Ingo but Elesa could sense something was different. Emmet's whole aura seems to drag this place down. "Emmet, don't do this to yourself." She sighed. His hand didn't look too messed up. She would let it go for now. 

He reached into his pocket for his smokes. He still had some in his desk from a long while ago and decided he needed a light.

 "You are not smoking again." She glared at him. 

He flicked on the lighter to ignite it. “I know you don’t want me to, Elesa. I’m sorry to disappoint you, again and again.” Maybe she should just leave the man to his demons and not get dragged down by him. 

“I’m afraid I’m not much of anything without Ingo.” He blew a cloud of smoke away from her. Emmet couldn’t help it, his mood was in the gutter. He didn’t want to hurt her seeing him like this. She really was a good friend.

 She was very quiet, "Promise me that you'll call me if it gets too much, Emmet." 

He glanced up at her. He didn't want to scoff, it was so mean. "I'm.. I'm sorry Elesa. But it already is. Please, I don't mean to bring you down. I want you to be happy." 

"Okay, then how about we see the doctor again?" She suggested, "We can have him adjust your meds." She wasn't going to touch on how she couldn't be happy seeing him so miserable like this. 

"Later." He showed her his bottle of meds. "Don't worry, I'm still on track. I haven't fallen off the wagon or done too much. Only the prescribed amount.” 

"Okay, I'm going to check on you later. The book I special ordered is coming in. Emmet, don't go where I can’t follow, okay?" 

“I’ll be right down here if you need me.” He gave her the thumbs up and would finish his cigarette as she left. Once she was gone, his dry eyes bled themselves of a bit more tears, hitting the concrete at his feet. Fuck, man. Just. Fuuck. He doused the cigarette and picked up the lantern. He had burned down the candle to the stub, so he needed to get a new one. That meant walking the tunnels alone in the dark. Whatever. If it happened it happened. He just hoped the sensors would do their job. 

Then he felt something else. A rumble. Shittttt. He ran in the opposite direction, booking it as fast as he could, tripping almost on a few of the tracks. He narrowly escaped getting run over by a train as he dove head first back onto the station he had been resting at earlier. His heart was pounding and sweat beaded down his face. The train kept going onwards as if nothing happened, of course. He screamed a curse and hurled the empty lantern against the far wall, shattering glass all over the tracks. He was having a breakdown. He was on his hands and knees sobbing and crying out in pain, his body wouldn’t let him do anything else. Thank God this was a maintenance station that no one went to. Christ. 

"Ingo, where THE FUCK ARE YOU?!" He screamed and sobbed. His body was tired. He was tired. He laid on the ground for a bit as he tried to breathe. The world around him was irrelevant to him. The night would wane on into the next day.

The depot agents knew White Boss was alive because he would update tasks and respond to work emails like normal, but they knew he was far from normal. They never hardly saw him besides the office or locker rooms or vending machines. He kept going to the tracks. One day he wouldn’t come back, they knew it. He would be gone, somewhere in the darkness, split to pieces. They were just worried about when.

 He lit a cigarette in the shadows, his only light for now. He hummed a tune as he walked in the dark, his ears on keen alert for any sounds of trains. He had his gun, yes, but he wasn’t going to use it. He had no intention of that, really. It was too easy if he did. No, he walked and then he stopped. He was crying but no tears were there. After a moment, he continued walking, shakily continuing to hum from where he left off. 

Ingo felt weak. It was part from Emmet's distress, part lack of food, part lack of water. That didn't stop him though from finally crawling out of the hole in the wall. He stumbled onto the track in front of Emmet finally clawing into dirt. No, he had heard everything. This was his. His darkness and it wasn't going to control him. He was going to control it. He crawled until he felt the cool metal and saw a distant light up ahead, small like a cigarette?

"Emmet?" 

What the fuck was that? Emmet pulled out his gun. 

“Who goes there? These tracks are off limits to the public.” Ingo swallowed. His throat was so dry. 

"Ingo." Ingo replied, trying to push back on his legs so he could sit up properly. 

Emmet squinted in the darkness and continued walking. And walking. And walked right past him with a glance. 

"Hnnngh," he sighed. 

The hell? Ingo wasn't expecting that. Maybe for him to yell at him or shoot him but he just walked past. 

"W-" He coughed, "W-wait." He pushed himself up to stand. Ingo wasn't going to give up. He started to follow his brother. "Wait!" 

Emmet ignored him and would keep going. There was a station ahead at least, he could sit there for a bit. He must really be having a bad day. Everyday was a bad day without Ingo.

Ingo still wasn't giving up. Even if he had to follow Emmet all the way to that station. Were there other people in that station or was it just them? 

It was just them. The maintenance station. Emmet hopped up onto the platform and sat on the bench in a sad heap. He kept his eyes on the darkness waiting for the figure to emerge. 

Ingo then crawled up onto the platform. This must be the hallucinations he was talking about. Maybe Emmet thought he was just seeing him and not that Ingo was right there. "You...you're a hard man to get to." Ingo chuckled darkly but continued to head towards Emmet, but he didn’t move. He just watched Ingo walk. How he just materialized from the shadows. He didn’t respond, he just… watched. That was fine. Ingo could come to him. He knelt down to Emmet and placed his hand on his knee. 

"Emmet, it's me." 

“No,” he muttered. “You’re not real,” he sighed and pulled out another cigarette to continue his chain smoking.

 "You were so strong for me." Ingo said not bothering to argue with him, "I'm going to be strong for you now." Fuck but he couldn't lift him not as famished as he was. Maybe he didn't have to. Ingo drew out his pokeball and tossed it out.

"Come to me Haxorus." The Pokémon popped out looking between the two twins. His human and his brother looked like a wreck. 

That was it, huh? Emmet stood up and began pacing around. He started giggling, then laughing like a madman. 

“It was never real, was it? I just. Imagined this! I never went to Sinnoh, I never found him, it’s all just been in my head, I can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t, I’ve really lost it, huh? I’m gone! Gone!” He held out his arms and swung his head back as he paced in a circle, his hat hitting the floor. 

"Haxorus, go pick him up. Try to be gentle." Ingo said going over and picking up his hat. Haxorus made a sound and went over to try and scoop up Emmet bridal style. 

"Nuh uh!" Emmet dodged away and pulled out his gun. "I might not know what is real or not, but I won't be ushered away." His hands shook as he aimed between Haxorus and Ingo. Haxorus growled at the gun pointed at his human. 

"Okay, okay." Ingo said both to Emmet and Haxorus. Any sudden wrong moves might end badly for everything involved, "We'll do this your way. What do you want, Emmet?"

“I... I want… I want my brother back. I want my life back. This is my, our subway. I just want him b-back...” He cried miserably, but didn’t lower the gun. “B-but… but I caaan’t! He’s gone! He’s gone and he’s been gone and I’m never g-gonna see him again. He’s never coming back, I’ve just been lying to myself all this-this time.” He hiccupped. “I don’t want to live anymore. I don’t want to live without him. I don’t… I don’t!” He put the gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger.

…But nothing happened when the gun was fired. It was unloaded. He must have known that too as he slowly pulled it out and holstered it. He stood there, wavering, staring at the ground. Silently, he walked forwards and took Ingo’s hand to go walk back to the main station. He didn’t say another word. In reality, he hadn’t trusted himself with his firearm for a long while and unloaded it. It was just a show of force, even if there was nothing in it. They would come back to the main station.

 "NO!" Ingo shouted but it was too late and there was the terrifying sound of the 'click' from the hammer and nothing more. Oh thank Arceus. Emmet slowly put it down and took Ingo's hand. The two walked back to the main station in silence but Ingo kept a tight grip on Emmet's hand like he might lose him at any moment. The agents froze when they suddenly saw the two of them together. 

"Black boss? Wh- Where-" One of them began to ask but Ingo cut him off. 

"Could you please go and call an ambulance?" Ingo asked before pulling on Emmet's hand to come sit with him on the bench. Nobody said anything but one of the agents ran off to do as Ingo requested. Ingo sat with him and rubbed his hand with his thumb. He would get taken to the hospital and have time to recover. 

The dream faded and Emmet found tears on his face. What was that just then? Another world? Another timeline? So similar and yet it was different. Yin and Yang… so much to consider. Time and space. Light and dark. The existence of powers that could bend reality. It was so much to try and understand. He was just a subway boss! Him and Ingo! And yet, this was their lives. There was no turning away from it, only accepting and moving forward armed with this new information. It felt so real. Deep in his heart, Emmet knew it was real. A real possibility if Ingo never had called out to him in the tunnel, never heard his brother’s voice. Yang was time, and so he saw a vision. It wasn’t just madness. It was something trying to guide him to a better future. Maybe himself even? Bah, now was not the time to ponder such thoughts. Emmet was still sitting there alone in the tunnels. Well, not completely alone. “...Ingo?” He called out softly to his brother, hoping he was still there in the shadows, just out of sight. He was never scared of the dark, in fact he found it rather comforting, even as a child. It reminded him of Ingo.

———————————————————————————

End of chapter 3

[tennessoui]

hello miss kit! loving all your responses to the asks everyone got such interesting thoughts!! I know you love all your children equally but which gffa au do you love just a bit more than the others? (excluding counselling au lol)

what a hard ask oof

good thing i have a glass of wine and a lot of time on my hands! so i just rated all my fics set in the gffa

(i had a LOT of time on my hands)

a fish hook, an open eye: 7/10 - it's hardly set in the gffa at all tbh i love earnest evil puppy anakin & conniving obi-wan who gets more than he bargained for. needed more cody, tbh a more perfect union: 10/10 - i'm biased obviously cause i just finished this fic so it's fresh on my mind but it was so fun to write! i loved trying to balance the humor and the seriousness and the council scene (both of them!) was just so great amort & amor: 6/10 - i just think anakin would probably not be that cool about obi-wan getting another padawan lol but it's fluffy and cute and i'm glad i wrote it! bed warden, bed warmer: 8/10 - obi-wan would be the worst patient in the history of the world. he's such an asshole which i love writing but he's also so clearly very smitten with anakin. he's just going to be an asshole about it building a boat with no blueprints: 7/10 - i know yall dont know how it ends but i know how it ends ;) burn every bridge but please leave me a boat: 6/10 - my first attempt at reverse master&padawan au which is a dynamic i really love. i would rate this fic higher, but i wish i had started it in a different place and relied less on mental flashbacks but a number: 9/10 - happy almost one year to this fic! i had to get someone to cheer-read this fic for me because i was worried that i was being too hard on aging/obi-wan's body falling apart and anakin feeling old and tired at age 40 but then i saw a bunch of gifs of obi-wan jumping off stuff and i was like yeah his body probably does feel like it's falling apart foolproof, foolhardy: 10/10 - i literally have not has so much fun with a cliffhanger since i last updated time & tide. no notes, just stupid oblivious padawan obi-wan trying to seduce master skywalker into his bed, unaware that master skywalker would crawl over burning coals to kiss his hand. hand in unlovable hand: 6/10 - not my favorite adaptation from tumblr fic to ao3 fic - i used too much of the original ficlet and always feels clunky to me. i do like sith vader manipulating obi-wan into falling!! yes baby, you twist and ruin that jedi master and make him yours haunt me then: 8/10 - i love non-sequential storytelling and also padmé loving anakin so much that she sacrifices a child to bring him back only for him to come back solely to live and breathe for obi-wan hold me fast or kill me quick: 3/10 - would be a higher rating but this fic haunts me. i want to finish her someday and until i do i will not rest peacefully at night. get these stupid soulmates to communicate! i pray the same, but my gods have changed: 10/10 - i love writing this fic, i love watching the polls as you guys vote for what should happen next, i love catty sith obi-wan working to seduce senator skywalker because he's hot lol but it's the voting aspect that makes this fic a 10/10 for me if you love me, let it remain unnamed: 9/10 - it surprised me how much i loved writing set as an actual character. one day i want to explore the universe that set's in, where he meets his own kenobi and falls in love with him. i really liked the outsider perspective on how absolutely wild obi-wan and anakin are - especially since the main scenario is that they're having a threesome, and obi-wan and anakin have to?? share?? each other? with someone else? unlikely! let’s get your fingers tangled in my hair: 6/10 - i wrote this in a fever state; it was fun and i enjoy a king kenobi as much as the next gal! do i actually think anakin could last that long without talking? no not the way i usually write him lol like saints, like monsters: 8/10 - i love the way the chapters are set up, with them going back and forth between the actual plot and the worst parts and darkest moments of the recovery lost to a sea of troubles: 7/10 - it will never not be funny to me that this fic is in response to the prompt "knocking on the wrong door". it could have been anythinggg. it became this instead, featuring light stockholm syndrome and an obessive, evil obi-wan

[ceramicwings]

baby luffy hcs??? pretty pretty please?

Ouuuugh...... baby Luffy .... I think he's the kind of baby who cries at night mostly bc he's lonely. he just craves contact. dragon is up at night working on revolutionary stuff with Luffy slung to his chest bc he won't sleep otherwise. Luffy was born extremely small but has a huge appetite (for a baby of his size) and the nurses who monitor him after being born are always surprised by him like "holy shit he eats so much but he's like three and a half pounds" and he cries, his cry isnt very loud yet but dragon is always saying someday he'll have a very strong voice.

as a toddler Luffy is just as clingy but he's learning to talk and just always babbling about stuff. the revolutionary army adore him for the few years they have him. it's very indulgent of me to give them years with him lol. but i can't help it honestly. i just love him. iva loves letting Luffy play in their hair. sometimes inazuma will give Luffy fun little hairstyles, put in butterfly clips and little pigtails n shit.

idk if 7+ Luffy counts as "baby" but I think there's at least one occasion where shanks is visiting Makino's bar and telling Luffy stories and it's getting late but Luffy doesn't want to go to bed and keeps loudly waking back up when someone tries to move him, so he ends up falling asleep in the crook of shanks' arm, just feeling safe and warm with shanks' voice rumbling around him, shanks' heartbeat under his ear... im a huge sucker for dadshanks TwT

im also a huge sucker for big sis Makino who makes Luffy's clothes by modifying her own old clothes so Luffy wears a lot of little dresses and pinafores when he goes out to play <3 im hcing it's normal for kids of any gender to wear dresses when they're young, it's just easier to dress them that way lol. so luffy runs around in these cute outfits and makino is very pleased by the way it kind of makes him look more like her.

Ace and Sabo both are of the age to have grown out of wearing dresses (and Sabo being noble-born would have been raised wearing pants and shorts I think). When luffy turns seven is when he starts dressing like in canon (according to my whims lol) maybe his fashion sense is a little influenced by shanks and his crew. time for sandals and jorts, baby!

ASL time!!!!! Ace totally complains all the time about how much Luffy acts like a baby but mysteriously every night ends up with Luffy smushed between him and Sabo, even though he'd never do anything as soft as cuddling someone. Sabo isn't that much more inherently affectionate, he's not used to showing people love in any way aside from through obedience, but he's much quicker to take Luffy's hand so he doesn't fall behind when they're walking, and he's more often the one to carry Luffy if he gets tired or hurt. after Sabo's death and the bear attack, Ace tries a lot harder to be like caring and receptive of Luffy's feelings and needs, so he gives Luffy a lot more affection (and quietly relishes in how much it makes his heart sing to love someone, to be loved) when Luffy wakes up from nightmares Ace will hug him and hum little made up songs for him until Luffy's asleep again. when Ace has nightmares Luffy will hold his hand until he wakes up, bc he's a lighter sleeper than Ace and knows Ace doesn't react well to being woken up during them.

There's prob more I'll think of later lol but this is what I got for now!!!! Hope you enjoy <3

[littlcdarlin]

My Burning Sun Will Someday Rise

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 || read on AO3

summary: Joel and reader's vacation continues and lines start to blur. tags: daddy kink, big age gap (Joel is 49, reader is 23), dbf!Joel, Joel has a lovely belly, Joel is a little mean, praise kink, Joel calls reader "kid", unprotected piv, creampie, cunnilingus, sexual tension, blow jobs, smut with a little bit of plot, no use of Y/N, afab!reader, reader has hair (will add more as I add more parts)

note: happy new year to all of you, and sorry for the long wait! I was completely flashed by the love you showed for part 1 (THANK YOU!!!), and wanted to live up to your expectations. I’ll try to write part 3 as quickly as possible! Sorry if there's any typos, I edited this while severely hungover

The afternoon at the beach was relaxing and lighthearted after you agreed with Joel and stopped studying so much, and you find that apart from having a body that makes you clench your thighs together, he’s interesting to talk to. He doesn’t give you the same bullshit about university and acting responsibly, but rather accepts that there are things you dislike about your degree. He doesn’t offer advice on how to learn to enjoy those things, he just nods when you tell him you’ve learnt to deal with them. He treats you like an adult, someone who makes their own informed choices – something your life has been sorely lacking.

You head back to the rooms in comfortable silence, and you enjoy the way Joel’s arm almost grazes yours. When you think about the flutter in your stomach for too long it’s ridiculous, but it’s so easy to leave behind the morals and expectations of home when all you’re facing right now is an all-inclusive dinner and as many cocktails as you want. You aren’t planning on getting drunk if Joel isn’t, but you want to have fun tonight. You haven’t been on a real vacation in ages.

 You take another shower once you’re in your room, wash away the sunscreen and sea salt, until your hair is all soft again and you smell like shampoo. The hotel restaurant isn’t super fancy, but you feel like putting in a little effort, so you pick out a black dress you like, and wear your sandals again. You wonder if you’ll get cold – the days are burning hot, but at night there’s a cool breeze that might make you regret your choice of clothes. Fuck it, you think, you haven’t had an occasion to dress up in ages, and getting Joel all flustered again sure seems like reason enough. You grab your purse, phone and keycard, and head to the door.

Joel opens his door at the same time you do, and you swallow when you see he’s changed outfits, too. His hair is slightly damp and all curly, he’s wearing black jeans and a simple black t-shirt with an unbuttoned, flowy linen shirt over it. The sleeves are rolled up to reveal his forearms. It’s stylish. You didn’t expect Joel Miller to look stylish.

"Wow," you say with a smile. "You clean up nice."

Joel just huffs, but his eyes ghost over your dress for a second too long. He doesn’t answer.

When you get to the restaurant, Joel pulls out your chair for you, which earns him a blinding smile. Stylish and a gentleman, who would have thought? Back home he always seemed like a grumpy lumberjack to you, and although you do find him excruciatingly attractive in his flannels, you’re intrigued to find out what else you didn’t know about him.

"Is it really all-inclusive?", you ask, gazing at the menu and not quite believing you can order anything you’d like and not pay for it. 

"Sure. You want a cocktail?"

"If you’ll have one with me?"

Joel holds your gaze, but shakes his head.

"I think I prefer whiskey over that sweet stuff," he says, and you make a face.

"Fine, whiskey it is, then," you say, and Joel frowns.

"You don’t have to drink what I’m drinkin’. Have a cocktail."

This time you’re the one to shake your head.

"It’s no fun, having cocktails on your own. But I haven’t had whiskey in ages, maybe I like it better now."

The corner of Joel’s mouth twitches.

"Ages, huh? How long have you been allowed to drink again?"

You smile, but don’t dignify his question with an answer, and after a moment Joel chuckles and looks back at the menu.

"Fine, I’ll have a Gin Fizz," he says, looking up again. "You?"

He wants to order a cocktail, just so that you can enjoy having one, too. Your stomach flutters.

"Joel, you don’t have t-"

"I know I don’t. I’m having a Gin Fizz."

There’s a finality to his tone, but his voice is friendly. You give him a reluctant smile, one that isn’t ironic or half-joking. He smiles back, and leans back in his chair, eyes still on yours. You study the menu again, this time having a closer look at the cocktails.

"Sex on the beach," you say seriously, and Joel snorts.

"Clever."

***

You do end up drinking a sex on the beach, and Joel actually enjoys his gin fizz. The food is delicious, Joel lets you try a piece of his steak and you offer him a bite of your fish, but he declines with a disgusted look on his face that makes you grin. No seafood for Joel Miller, then.

Joel orders you another cocktail when the waiter clears your plates, and you smile to yourself. He’s being courteous.

"Are you trying to get me drunk, Miller?", you ask, the corner of your mouth twitching. Joel raises an eyebrow.

"I think you’re managin’ that without my help."

He’s right, of course – your long day of traveling makes the buzz in your head more prominent, and although you’re nowhere near drunk, your tongue is a little looser than usually, and you find it much easier to hold Joel’s eye-contact.

"I’m glad I came here," you say all of a sudden, the thought fleeting, but true. "I needed a break."

Joel’s smile is honest, when he answers.

"I’m glad you came, too. It’d be boring, bein’ here on my own."

"Right," you say, "who would get you to drink cocktails? You’d be stuck drinking disgusting whiskey and wallowing in your loneliness."

Joel smiles, shaking his head slightly, and takes a sip of his Gin.

"You wanna head down to the beach?", you ask when your glasses are empty and you feel a little woozy from the second cocktail. Joel looks surprised.

"I love the sea at night," you say a little dreamily, voice trailing off.

"Sure. Let’s go," Joel just answers.

The air outside is cool, just like you anticipated, and you shiver slightly, wrapping your arms around yourself to keep the goosebumps at bay. Joel notices, and immediately shrugs out of his linen shirt, handing it to you. You stare at him.

"Take it," he insists, and you do, the fabric soft in your hands. You slip it on, the sleeves coming down to your fingertips, the collar smelling of Joel’s cologne. You wonder why it took you two cocktails to notice how good he smells. When you’re done rolling up the sleeves, you look up and find Joel watching you quietly. Your eyes meet – he looks away, and starts walking again.

You’re pleasantly tipsy, walking to the beach at night, wearing Joel Miller’s clothes and brushing his arm with yours every once in a while. It feels a little surreal.

"Aren’t you cold now?", you ask after a couple of minutes of quiet.

"No," Joel answers, his voice a little rougher than before, "’sides, you wear it better anyway."

You flush, and when you don’t answer, he looks at you.

"Jesus, sorry," he mumbles. "I didn’t…it slipped out. Just meant you look pretty, is all."

Your stomach swirls pleasantly, and you want Joel to put his arm around your shoulder, or kiss you, or take that shirt off again. You clear your throat.

"Thanks," you answer quietly, toying with the hem of the shirt. "I think you wore it well, too, though. Suits you."

Joel doesn’t answer, but when you glance at him, you notice the ghost of a smile on his face, half-hidden by his patchy beard.

You walk the rest of the way in contemplative silence, each of you lost in your thoughts. You’re always amazed to see the sea at night. The darkness somehow elevates its vastness, water and sky bleeding into each other at the near invisible horizon. It’s easy to forget about your exams here, with the whole expanse of the planet spread out before you, the relentlessly calm sound of the waves, and Joel’s scent in your nose. You sit down on an abandoned deck chair and watch Joel walk up to the water, pick up a seashell, and drop it into the water again. He seems content to be here, you think. Relaxed. You don’t know him well, but his body language seems more at ease than it did back home. Perhaps you’re not the only one who needed a break.

You get up again, and walk over to Joel, who smiles when he sees you coming.

"You were right," he says, "it’s different in the dark."

You know he means the sea, the beach, the lack of people around, the sand that burned your feet only hours ago now having a cooling effect. Still, his words leave room for interpretation and you don’t miss the way his gaze moves over your form in his shirt.

"Thanks for the cocktails," you say quietly, "and the shirt."

Joel looks over at you, but you don’t have the guts to look at him. You can’t quite be sure what the moonlight and scenery will make you do, not when he’s never looked more handsome, and you’re more than tipsy.

"You’re welcome," he says honestly. "I know you’re doin’ this for your Dad more than anything, but I hope you’re still havin’ fun."

He’s self-conscious, or something close to it, wondering how he could make this trip more enjoyable for you – so he orders cocktails he doesn’t like and lets you wear his clothes.

"I am having fun," you reassure him. "I’m at the beach at night wearing a guy’s shirt who got me all the cocktails I wanted, instead of studying at my desk for the millionth night in a row."

Joel chuckles.

"My Dad should break his leg more often," you sigh, digging the heel of your foot into the sand. Joel doesn’t answer.

When you walk back to the hotel, you feel the ghost of his hand on your lower back, not touching, but lingering, as if he instinctively wants to stir you in the right direction, or keep you from stumbling. It makes that flutter in your stomach reappear.

You pass reception to get to the elevators, and the same woman is still there, smiling when he recognizes you.

"You two enjoying the sea?", she asks.

"Very much, thank you," you answer, "we had cocktails and walked to the beach."

The lady looks pleased at how happy you seem and smiles at Joel.

"I’m glad to hear it! Well, you two enjoy your Daddy-daughter trip," she says, before answering the telephone that starts ringing just as you’re about to say good-night.

Joel’s brows are furrowed when you look at him, which makes you suppress a grin. The lady assuming he’s your father is clearly bothering him, and you get the feeling it might not entirely be about his age.

When you’ve made it up to your rooms, you turn to Joel to find him already watching you. He looks different here, in the harsh light of the corridor, dark shadows falling over his features, his form somehow looking broader.

"Breakfast at nine?", he asks you, voice quiet so as not to disturb any other guests in their rooms.

"Yeah," you say, and before you can change your mind, you kiss his cheek. His expression is unreadable, when you pull away.

"Goodnight," you say with a tired smile, before teasingly adding "Daddy."

Joel holds your eye contact, and doesn’t flush this time.

"Careful," he says gently, voice low and dark. You swallow.

Before you can forget, you shrug off his shirt, but Joel doesn’t move to take it from your outstretched hand. After a beat, his eyes flicker over your face.

"Keep it," he says curtly, "I like it on ya."

And then he’s gone, the door to his room shutting with a soft thud. You shake your head slightly, and press the soft linen fabric against your nose, inhaling the scent of his cologne and sweat. You ache just at the thought of it having touched his skin, and him now wanting to see you in it, but it would feel like a violation if you relieved that ache now, even if Joel wasn’t there, so you ignore the dull throbbing between your legs best as you can and go to bed with Joel’s shirt right next to your bed.

***

The next morning you feel a little nervous about breakfast – something shifted between you and Joel after your good-bye in the hallway. He seemed so sure of himself when he told you he liked you in his shirt, so unwavering, and you’re a nervous wreck just thinking about saying good morning to him.

Instead of putting on the white sundress you wore yesterday, you slip into a bikini, a pair of comfortable shorts, and Joel’s linen shirt, half unbuttoned so that your necklace peeks out. This time you leave the sleeves un-rolled, liking how big it feels on you, a constant reminder of Joel’s size.

You wash your face and brush your teeth, but don’t shower since you’re going to have to do that in the evening anyway. Although you’re mostly excited to see Joel again, you also can’t wait to have your morning coffee and something to eat – you hope the breakfast buffet will be as good as dinner was.

You wait for Joel in the hallway, but when he doesn’t come out of his room, you knock on his door.

"One second," his voice comes from inside, and you wait leaning against the wall just like he did the day before. When he opens the door, you can’t suppress a smile – his hair is charmingly tousled from his sleep, he clearly didn’t know what to do with it without taking a shower first.

"Nice hair," you say, the corner of your mouth twitching. Joel doesn’t answer, with his brows slightly furrowed he keeps staring at you. Anxiety floods your veins, and you wonder if it was the best idea to dress the way you did, if Joel might think of it as strange or creepy or pathetic.

"You’re wearing my shirt," he says, voice quiet and still rough from sleep. It’s not a question, just a statement, no judgement behind it. You swallow, watching his brown eyes trail over your arms, torso, your shorts.

"Yeah," you answer timidly, fighting the urge to cross your arms. "You said you liked it on me."

Joel’s eyes snap up to yours, and with all the courage you can muster up, you hold his gaze for several long seconds.

"I did."

Again, just a statement. One that doesn’t require an answer, but you feel like shrinking under Joel’s gaze, so you offer him an out out of the situation.

"I’ll take it off, if you want me to," you mutter, and quickly add "I’ll put on something else."

Joel watches you quietly, and finally runs a hand through his messy hair.

"No need, kid," he says with a defeated sounding exhale. "’M glad ya like it."

***

Breakfast is a welcome distraction from whatever happened in the hallway – you drink too much coffee, and try all of the delicious food offered: bacon and eggs, colorful fruit you have never seen before, yoghurt and pancakes. Joel sticks to coffee and toast, though he does steal one of the peaces of fruit from your plate.

"I’ll get one more cup," you say when you have drained the last of your coffee, and Joel chuckles.

"Might as well do a line," he says and you snort, but stay seated – he’s right, you should watch your caffeine intake. He watches you, and after a second raises an eyebrow.

"I didn’t mean anything by it. You drink as much coffee as you want."

His voice is apologetic and soft.

"No, I’ll do as you say," you answer, "or I’ll die of heart failure."

Something flashes over his face at those words, but you can’t pinpoint it. Still, your stomach flutters, when Joel doesn’t break the eye-contact.

After breakfast the two of you get your towels and the rest of your beach-belongings from your rooms, and Joel changes into his trunks again. You walk past reception quietly, the lady from the day before isn’t there, and Joel’s arm brushes against yours casually. Suddenly you wish you weren’t wearing his shirt, just to feel his skin against yours. It’s a little pathetic.

Joel gets you two deckchairs – the beach is still relatively empty – and you put on sunscreen. When you’re done with your limbs and stomach, you offer Joel the bottle.

"Do my back, please?"

"Sure," he mutters, taking the bottle from you, and gently stroking your hair out of the way. He’s quiet, holding you steady by the shoulder when you instinctively squirm away from the initial cold of the liquid on your skin, his hands calloused but gentle. From time to time, his fingers slip under the shoulder straps of your bikini, and you feel heat pool between your legs when he starts covering your lower back in sunscreen. His hand is dangerously close to the waistband of your swimsuit.

"All done," he says, closing the bottle. You raise an eyebrow.

"Don’t need sunscreen," he explains, "I don’t burn easy."

"You’ll get skin cancer," you argue. "Everybody needs sunscreen."

He huffs, but hands you the bottle and turns around to sit down on the deckchair. You watch his beautiful back, the way the skin ripples over his muscles, how broad and solid it seems. You squirt some of the sunscreen onto your hand and apply it to Joel’s shoulders, rubbing gently. He relaxes under your touch, the tension leaving his muscles, and you move your hands more deliberately, focusing on his shoulders, until Joel’s head falls forward slightly, giving into the sensation.

"Good?", you ask, a little shy.

Joel hums, and you wonder if his eyes are closed, if he’s enjoying your touch so much he can’t form a full sentence. You dig the heels of your palms into his muscles, the sunscreen making the slide easy. His skin his littered in freckles and birthmarks, marked by years of working under the sun.

"You always apply sunscreen like that?", Joel asks suddenly, and you flush.

"Most people aren’t this tense," you quip back, fingers gliding over Joel’s neck. "Actually, nobody’s ever been this tense, I think."

He shakes his head slightly, but lets you carry on, working your way down his back, the tan line of his trunks visible and oh so tempting. You imagine pulling them down and try to refrain from clenching your thighs together.

When you’re done, Joel’s muscles feel a little looser, more relaxed, and he turns around to look at you.

"Thanks," he says quietly, and you nod. Now that he can see you, look you directly in the eye, it feels almost absurdly bold to have touched him like that. Still, things have started to unravel a little. Lines have blurred.

Although you don’t know where you get the courage from, you hold his gaze, put one hand on his shoulder, and squeeze.

"Any time, Joel," you answer, and watch him swallow. Then, his own hand comes up to yours, and you half think he’s going to remove yours, but he just loosely wraps his fingers around your wrist, eyes not leaving yours.

"That’s a dangerous game you’re playin’, kid," he says quietly, but doesn’t let go of you. You hope he never does.

"Do you…want me to stop?", you ask him, because you will if this is making him uncomfortable, if you read him wrong. He’s silent for a second.

"No," he says so quietly it’s almost inaudible. His thumb starts moving over your wrist, right over the pulse point, and it makes you weak in the knees. You didn’t know a touch as small as that one could be so erotic, but with Joel it seems, everything is. You fight to not let a whimper escape your mouth, and close your eyes for just a second.

"God," Joel mutters, more to himself than to you, "look at you."

Your eyes snap open when you feel him move, hand still locked around your wrist securely, and suddenly he’s towering over you. You gaze up at him, his eyes bright under the blazing sun, his hair still tousled, his beard patchy and flecked with grey. He’s all man, in a way you didn’t know you found desirable before him, but there is undeniable proof of your want leaking into your swimsuit, sticky and hot between your thighs.

He watches you, intense eyes moving over your face, your eyes, your mouth, your hands, your body in your nicest swimsuit, your throat as you swallow. His other hand comes up to stroke the hair away from your neck, and goosebumps erupt on your skin. Joel almost chuckles, but it’s more the ghost of a breath. You flush.

"It’s fucking stupid to go through with this," Joel says seriously, like he wants to inform you of it – as if you don’t know.

"Yes," you breathe, because he’s completely right.

"Your Dad would kill me, and rightly so," he adds.

"Oh, fuck my Dad," you answer, trying to reach out to touch Joel, but your wrist is still tightly locked in his grasp. You tug a little, but he doesn’t budge.

"You doin’ this to get back at him?"

You detect something in his voice you don’t like – uncertainty.

"No, Joel," you breathe, "God, no. Have you looked into a mirror recently?"

That makes him smile, and you wonder if he gets compliments a lot, but by the way his cheeks gain color, you don’t think he does. Stupid, stupid world, stupid people who came before you. He should be told every second of the day.

"It’s still stupid,“ he says, but his eyes are more intense than before now. You’re on holiday, away from all judgement. You can do whatever you want to do to each other.

"Thought I was the smart one in my family," you tease, reminding him of his words on the plane. You want him to lean down and finally kiss you, or throw you down on the deckchair and fuck you right there, your face pressed into his linen shirt. His thumb keeps moving over your wrist, relentlessly building tension.

"Take me to your room," you whisper, eyes wide, and anticipation pooling deep in your belly. Joel curses.

"You have any idea of the things I wanna do to you?"

His voice is low, dangerous, and you’d be at least a little afraid if this one anyone else. But it’s Joel, who lets you hate your degree without judgement, drinks cocktails he doesn’t like just so you can enjoy yourself, and through his permission allows you to stop studying, lets you enjoy this trip.

"Do them," you breathe, "I’ll let you do anything."

"Jesus fucking Christ, kid," he answers, and finally lets go of your wrist, one hand coming to rest on your waist, tugging you towards him, the other gently cradling your face. His breath ghosts over your mouth, and then he brushes your lips with his in a needy, slow kiss. His tongue slips into your mouth and you open up for him willingly. He tugs your hips against him, making you whimper and feel his bulge dig into your stomach.

The only thing keeping you from pulling him out of his swimming trunks right then is the fact that there are people around, and you’re pushing it already with the way his hands grasp at your skin and his tongue licks in your mouth. Any further and you could be arrested for public indecency.

"Please," you ask him between kisses, "Please, Joel, just take me to your room."

His teeth dig into your lower lip, and you fight a moan.

"Ask me again," he says, voice a little wrecked, and the need you feel for him deep in your stomach burns white hot. He wants you to beg.

"Please," you say, like he isn’t stripping you of your dignity instead of your clothes, but you can’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed, not when Joel groans at the sound.

"Alright, kid. I’ve got you.“

[mdverse]

4 and 15 for the glee asks :]

4. pick a musical for the glee club to stage - which plotlines do they squeeze into the episode to make it relevant to the show?

sweeney todd!! one of my friends loves that musical so a while back i asked them for their ideal glee cast :)

i could see there being a whole WSS situation where klaine both audition for the role of sweeney and then kurt's disappointment at not getting it (tho he'd be a great anthony) (plus a similar situation for mercedes and tina competing for the role of mrs lovett) (but it's more chill than the jonesberry WSS thing bc i think they'd both be happy for each other no matter what)

"Quinn feels like she’d be typecast as Johanna but I feel like I want Rachel to get it bc she would feel important but not actually get to sing that much which I what I want" - my friend. highkey very funny of them. we talked about a whole subplot where rachel considers dyeing her hair blonde for the role instead of just wearing a wig and it would be v dramatic

i'd like to think there would be a subplot dedicated to finn attempting to nail pirelli's italian accent. idk what the details would be but it would be v fun

i haven't watched ST in ages so i can't think of anything else rn but someday when i do rewatch it i might craft a whole 2-ep arc for it the way i have w wicked lol

15. you have to wear one of kurt's hats everyday for the rest of your life - which do you pick?

furt hat my beloved <3

[professorchaos]

hey i haven't really interacted with anything sp-related or the show itself in a few years but i just wanted to say that you (and @/mystewion's) art was really meaningful to me back when i was super into it. i wanted to mention it now if i were to ever forget again so yes this is a bit overdue lol. i think your expansion & analysis of both butters and kenny as characters is amazing and i hold them close to my heart. they're very relatable if that makes any sense.. and being honest, they also helped me find comfort in some rougher times. anyways, that's all of what i really have to say. thank you for all of your contributions to the south park community <3

this made us both really smile hank you so much :) <3 you're so sweet for sending this!!! i miss those guys, truth be told... i don't know if i'll ever be back into south park in the same way again, but those characters have such a strong and meaningful place in my heart, even though and maybe especially because they ended up way more like ocs by the end. working on the comic and videos and stuff was so much fun, and the spirit of the community back in the heyday of like, instagram aus and such- to be honest really just pre-covid- is something i will always look back on very fondly, and something i feel is really missing from other fandoms which i have now branched out to. i met some really amazing people here and it's led to a lot of really crazy positives in my life which i could never have expected!

there's a lot of things i would definitely do and talk about way differently now, but i guess that comes of getting older. maybe the moral of the story is to never trust anyone between the ages of 19 and 24 (kidding, of course, but i do look back now and kinda cringe).

i once made a very silly promise to myself that i would never delete this blog, because the way people disappear in this fandom and always have over its long history was something i found frustrating and sad when i was active. i find myself sort of wavering on that now, but i'll try to stick to it and keep this blog around, just on the offchance that someone else misses some aspect of it five, ten years down the line.

thanks again for sending this in. it's really sweet and gave me a chance to ramble and reminisce a little. let's play again in some other corner of the internet someday! (please come get crazy about naruto with me @guruguruguruguru )

[magicandpizza]

Hey, so I'm thinking of getting into fic writing (I haven't really written anything for a hobby before), but the trouble is I have a pretty solid idea of what I want to do, but I can't get my thoughts to turn into words that make sense on the page. I'm sorry if this is a bit of a basic question, bit I was wondering if you had any advice? I adore your wesper fics, and hope to be able to reach that level of quality someday <3 (apologies for anon, I am not a brave soul)

Hi anon, thanks for the ask!

My best advice is honestly just to write as much as you can. It doesn’t matter if it’s any good or not, it doesn’t matter if you’re posting it anywhere or publishing it, you just gotta write. Write whatever you want, whenever you can, and then read it back. If it were a different reader reading it, would they be able to visualise what you intended them to? If yes, great. If it not, why not? Are there bits that aren’t clear or seem clunky? Could your descriptions use some work? What details are lacking?

I think I lucked out because I have a really visual imagination so it’s super easy for me to basically play the scenes out in my head, like I’m watching a movie almost, and then I just have to write out what’s going on. But making it flow is a different matter. Read other people’s work, actual published books or fanfiction or whatever you want. What do you like or not like about what you’re reading? Why do you or don’t you like it?

And don’t be discouraged! I’ve been writing what essentially amounts to fanfic since as long as I could read and write. Is the stuff I wrote at age 15 super cringy? Hell yeah it is, but I was having fun with it. Have I improved since then? God yes.

At the end of the day, you need to enjoy it like you would any hobby. That’s why I write whatever stupid wesper ideas come to mind. I’d love to have the type of brain to construct an intricate plot or some kind of heist, but I just don’t, so I write my silly little drabbles and smutty fics and have fun with it.

I hope this helps you!

[iviarellereads]

The Fires of Heaven, Chapter 11 - The Nine Horse Hitch

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Flame icon) In which someone has to remember she's not who she used to be.

PERSPECTIVE: Siuan et al have reached Lugard, in Murandy. She's been letting Logain think he was in charge, since she really doesn't know what to do with him yet.

The Nine Horse Hitch is the inn Logain chooses for them for the night. Siuan arranges for Leane and Min to distract Logain while she goes to meet a contact to find out where the Blue Ajah went after the Tower broke. On the way, she notes that she looks and feels very young, not much older than Min, and fairly attractive beneath the grime of travel.(1)

She has to put on a somewhat embarrassing performance to ask the right questions of the innkeeper to establish the contact, but she does so. She doesn't get quite the response she was looking for, but gets brought into a back room to talk. She informs the contact, Mistress Tharne, that Siuan Sanche has been stilled, and Elaida a'Roihan is the new Amyrlin. Tharne says that explains some of the orders, maybe, and she does have a message for any Blue who came looking around. Simply a name: Sallie Daera.(2)

Siuan leaves, the Tharne making fun of her as she does. At least she understands the message: the town of Salidar, birthplace of a famous Blue sister. On the way back to her inn, she glares so fiercely that she gets fewer catcalls.

PERSPECTIVE: Min, on a bench, in the common room of the Nine Horse Hitch, watches Leane flirt with a whole table of men. Logain looks grumpy that he's not the center of attention. Min wonders what it would be like to flirt with Rand the way Leane is with everyone.(3)

Siuan sneaks up on Min and says they have to go south, now. She thinks she may have made some Whitecloaks suspicious, and Min can tell that Siuan has learned something. Min grumbles they won't be able to reach another inn by nightfall, but goes to tell the others, quietly.

=====

(1) She makes a big deal of how far separated from her youth she is. Siuan, you're only 41. To be changed back to 25 or so is really not THAT big of a deal. You even admit this is only 15-20 years here. I'm saying this as someone who's staring down the barrel of 40 myself sometime in the next 2-5 years to keep things vague. RJ had a very skewed conception of women's self-image and aging compared to what we know now (consider what 50 looked like in The Golden Girls vs what 50 looks like nowadays in film and TV) and was also writing as a man trying to understand women from the outside, for sure. (2) Wow, what a clever puzzle, I'm sure nobody but a Blue would figure out Sallie Daera was Salidar. Especially since there have only been so many Amyrlins and the one who saved the Tower from Bonwhin's disaster would be widely studied. (3) This whole sequence, I mean starting all the way back when she was buying silk fabric to have dresses made to show Rand someday, but all the way through this… This is where a lot of people start to hate Min. And, look, everyone is entitled to their feelings and opinions. It is sad and frustrating to see a young woman who stands out from others be blended back into the crowd. But, there's also a problem with putting Not Like Other Girls girls on pedestals just for being NLOGs when there are so many different kinds of female characters in this series. If you can't tell, I think it's more complicated than a lot of people's knee-jerk reactions make it out to be. And, I can't say how I feel because a lot of it's influenced by what happens later.

[systemrestart]

Took me a while, but I've finally finished writing my thoughts on all 22 Touhou games I've played!!!

I tried to keep it brief but uhhhhhhh it ended up being insanely long anyways ;; Whoops. Maybe someday I'll be able to make full-on video reviews for each of them, there was a Lot I glazed over and a lot that's hard to describe without footage.

But regardless, here it is, my thoughts on Touhou 1-19, plus 9.5, 12.5, and 18.5! (Warning that this may be incomprehensible to a non-bullet hell player 😅)

[TOUHOU 1: HIGHLY RESPONSIVE TO PRAYERS]

The obvious black sheep of the family, HRtP isn't a bullet hell shooter, it's an arkanoid-style breakout game. But even so, I LOVE it. HRtP is very precious to me. It's definitely Hard, VERY hard, and the stage layouts can be a little unfair in places lol, but the controls are tight and responsive, and it's incredibly satisfying to improve.

Or even just to play purely for fun! For a decade, I honestly didn't expect to ever 1cc it, I just enjoyed playing casually, and HRtP is very friendly to that approach, with infinite continues, the ability to max out your starting lives, and a shorter time to complete than the other games. It's almost 30 years old now, but if you like breakout style games or old arcade, I still think it's worth a try! Maybe someone else out there will come to love it as much as I do

[TOUHOU 2: STORY OF EASTERN WONDERLAND]

Touhou's first proper shmup/bullet hell, and it is unquestionably the roughest in the series ;; That's not to say it's bad, just that it's aged a little poorly.

I try not to hold future QoL stuff against the older games, but man, not having a focus option, or health bars for the bosses, is Painful. This game also has some of the worst visibility issues in the series (like, bullets being the same color as the background, with no outline), and also an awful glitch that hurts gameplay (dying SHIFTS YOUR HITBOX. considering that knowing where your hitbox is is VITAL to survival……. yikes), so yeah, I understand why it's not fondly remembered.

But it has its charms!! There's the infamous (gay) conversation in Stage 2, this is the only game in which Genji (Reimu's pet turtle who helps her fly in the PC-98 games) speaks, I think the low cap on lives+easy score 1-ups is an interesting combo, AND this game introduced Marisa!!! Even if her design is very different now

I don't play this one much. If I were to rank all the games this one would probably be second lowest. But it's an okay time and you can still get some tense battles!!

[TOUHOU 3: PHANTASMAGORIA OF DIMENSIONAL DREAM]

The first VS shooter of the series!

Basically the idea is that you clear waves of enemies to both send bullets/attacks at your enemy, and charge your gauge to send even more powerful attacks, or even a boss. First to lose all their health loses the round.

The VS shooters are very chaotic, and the enemy AI can absolutely be unfair ;; But the high energy back-and-forth of a match is extremely thrilling!! I also really adore the final boss of this game, Yumemi Okazaki……. a human college professor from the real world, who came to Gensokyo to try and capture someone to prove magic is real to her school…… and she fights with, science? I find her super charming and fun, one of my favorite final boss characters

Now that I've played other VS shooters, including the game that apparently inspired this one, I can say that PoDD is very rudimentary. But sometimes you don't need a lot of fancy bells and whistles to have fun! Now if only it didn't require button mashing, I would play it more often……..

[TOUHOU 4: LOTUS LAND STORY]

LLS was my favorite Touhou game for a long, long, long time.

A big reason it was a favorite is because it's one of the most beginner friendly games by far. No cap on lives (plus 1-ups are granted by score, one of the easier systems), a free bomb after every stage, you can increase your starting lives significantly, there's a "slowmode" option to help you train, most of the patterns are either exploitable or designed around having no visible hitbox…… etc. It was first game I beat on Hard, way back when I was a teenager and could normally only play Easy mode. That's still a precious memory.

LLS also has one of the best overall soundtracks in the entire series. The fun, dream-like Lotus Love, into the tense and foreboding Sleeping Terror, into the calm anticipation of Dream Land, into an explosive heartpounding finale with Faint Dream ~ Inanimate Dream………. absolutely killer.

LLS has aged a little, it doesn't have much of the "flashy", colorful danmaku Touhou is known for. And despite being GENERALLY pretty easy there are a couple insanely difficult patterns that aren't balanced well. Aside from that, it's a little Too easy for me now (at least on Hard and below), but, I still play it regularly just for fun, and will always have a very special place in my heart for it.

(plus, side note, LLS was the introduction of the Stage 4 gimmick, where something is unique about the 4th Stage, boss, or both. I love Stage 4 gimmicks and miss them dearly in the newer games,,)

[TOUHOU 5: MYSTIC SQUARE]

God I love MS. I love MS so much. Probably my second favorite in the series at time of writing.

MS truly is the Greatest Hits of the PC-98 era. Mima and Yuuka come back as playable characters, the danmaku patterns are fun and unique (so much so that ZUN reused a few of them in future games!!!), it has most of the QoL features LLS had besides the free bombs, it introduced one of my favorite characters (Alice), and this is one of the few games where I actually find the faster characters easier/more fun to play as!! Both due to the bullet patterns themselves and because the 1-up system (point item collection) is especially suited for fast characters.

MS is much harder than LLS, but a lot easier than some of the later Touhou games, so it's a great middle ground in terms of difficulty. I only have 2 major critisicms; 1) while the 1-up system and patterns make fast characters more rewarding, there isn't good balance for the other options, so if you wanna play Yuuka you're kind of screwed. And 2) Stage 4. I actually love the Stage 4 gimmick (dual boss that's followed by a solo fight after you take one of them down), but Lord. Stage 4 has two awful glitches that can happen to you, and bullets that are the exact same color as the background. ZUN why

Besides that though, I think MS just naturally caters to my preferred playstyle (chaotically weaving and dancing through bullet spam), so it's a top tier entry for me :)

[TOUHOU 6: EMBODIMENT OF SCARLET DEVIL]

If MS isn't my 2nd favorite in the series, this one is.

I will say this. EoSD has Aged. Imo, it's aged more than MS has. Being ZUN's first Windows game it's a little rough around the edges; muddy graphics, rough soundfonts, heavier reliance on RNG and bullet spam over intricate patterns, and it's missing certain QoL features that it Feels like it should have (like, the PC-98 games were missing stuff, but those games felt like they were built around the limitations, EoSD has a lot of areas where it FEELS like it was designed with future QoL in mind, but it's just….. missing). It also sucks that EoSD is one of only 2 games that locks you out of the final stage if you play on Easy (LLS is the other one),,

But. EoSD is still beloved for a reason. One of the most solid soundtracks in the series, a fun Stage 4 gimmick (different spellcards for different shot types), score-based 1-up system, the introduction of the Point of Collection line, some Iconic boss battles, etc. AND, one of those weaknesses is actually kind of a Strength for me, because again, my preferred play style is well suited to bullet spam!! Stages 5 and 6 are SO fun for me, even though they're commonly cited as things people DISLIKE about EoSD.

EoSD is definitely unpolished, but it's still one of my top favorites, both for its general strengths and for how it caters well to me personally lol.

[TOUHOU 7: PERFECT CHERRY BLOSSOM]

PCB is my current favorite!!

Of all Touhou games, I feel PCB strikes a perfect balance between being accessible, but also still having challenges for those that want it. The patterns are really a step up from EoSD; with the introduction of a visible hitbox, ZUN could make them both more dense and more complex/unique, but they're designed to still be easily understandable. Other QoL features were added that also help a lot (like the enemy tracker, spellcard indicators on the healthbar, success/fail counters, you can save practice mode replays, etc). There's also good variety in the playable characters, each has their own advantages and disadvantages, and one of the best shot types in the entire series is here (SakuyaA lol).

I feel like just saying that doesn't express my love though, there's truly nothing like weaving through a dense maze of beautiful bullets, and PCB is one of THE best for that feeling. I also love this game's 'special feature'; the cherry borders. Not only are they fantastic for survival and training (the border acting as a shield allows you to try new things and take risks where you otherwise wouldn't/couldn't), you can also utilize them in various way; break them on purpose at optimal points to maximize score, keep them as long as possible to milk graze points, use them to clear difficult patterns and stage sections……. it's just a great system that adds depth without overwhelming the player!!

And of course, I must mention something unique to this game; the Phantasm stage! PCB is the only game that has this. It's basically just a 'hard mode' version of the Extra stage, but, the patterns are both exciting to face and gorgeous to look at, the boss herself is genuinely Iconic, and her theme may be even more so.

PCB is pretty much the full package, and is also my recommendation to new players starting out, 100%.

[TOUHOU 8: IMPERISHABLE NIGHT]

This is the last of Touhou's "holy trio", so to speak, alongside EoSD and PCB. There's not much I can point to that's "wrong" with it, or "worse" than the other two, but idk, I don't feel as positively towards IN. I do still really enjoy it though!

There's a lot of great things about IN; the introduction of Spell Practice, there's two different final stages/bosses, the really cool concept for the playable characters/shot-types (character fight in teams, and once you beat both Finals with all teams you can play as each character individually, for a total of 12(!!!) shot-types), the Stage 4 gimmick is a callback to LLS (you fight Reimu or Marisa depending on your character!!), and of course there's some great bullet patterns in there (Keine and Marisa are standouts to me).

There's a LOT of content, more than most Touhou games, which is great!! But there's definitely some aspects that don't feel well polished, which brings it down a bit. The 'special feature' of this game, the Youkai gauge, is not only insanely confusing and complicated, and it's also not fun OR worthwhile to engage with,,, Maybe if I was a hardcore scorer I'd find some value in it, but…… eh. At least it's not obtrusive or anything. Then there's the solo shot-types….. while it's cool they're there, I don't know if ZUN playtested the solo Humans ;; They are very clearly not designed with solo play in mind and if you like to clear ALL shot-types like I do, this can make it an arduous experience to get through all 12

I think it's mostly these things, plus me feeling kind of neutral on the soundtrack and cast, that make IN not stand out, despite all the content. Still a great game, I play it a lot, just not as often as some other entries.

[TOUHOU 9: PHANTASMAGORIA OF FLOWER VIEW]

The 2nd VS shooter in the series!

Mostly the same exciting, chaotic gameplay as the first one PoDD, though with a few key difference. You can now use Focus, which also ties into a new mechanic, the 'scope', which allows you to freeze falling spirits (helps with setting up combos and crowd control) when they touch it. And, using your spell/special attack gauge causes a 'wave' to ripple out and clear bullets around you. I think overall these are excellent addition and that add fun strategy to gameplay.

However, I'm not great at keeping track of combos or purposefully placing spirits during the constant barrage of bullets,,, And some of the character's scopes are……. not fun to utilize. There's also the same problem I had with PoDD, how rapidly pressing the shoot button hurts my hand over time, and while PoFV actually has an alternate control scheme, that alternative FORCES you into focus mode as you shoot. I want to be able to not think super hard about when and where I shoot, so I can focus on dodging, but this just makes the problem Worse because it hampers my movement ;;

I do like the bullet clearing wave though! Plus, this game introduced one of my favorite characters, Aya, AND brought back Yuuka from the PC-98 era!! It's not a bad game and I've had fun with it. I'm just not crazy about the Touhou VS shooters overall. If I wanna play a VS shooter I'd rather pick something like Twinkle Star Sprites.

[TOUHOU 9.5: SHOOT THE BULLET]

This is the first of the 'photo' games, and I have a soft spot for this one. It can be extremely rewarding to clear a difficult scene, and the whole photography thing is a SUPER interesting take on bullet hell. The one thing that sucks is that there's little incentive to go back to scenes once you've managed to clear them. But I guess that's not the point, it's to slowly conquer the challenges each level throws at you and clear as many as you can.

Very solid game, something you can chip away at over time, if you like bullet hell and like interesting challenges give it a try!!

[TOUHOU 10: MOUTAIN OF FAITH]

MoF is the start of a new era. It's pretty stripped back in terms of gameplay because ZUN wanted to focus on making a basic, polished shmup, and he certainly achieved that. The new engine feel smooth as butter, the graphics and sound are crisp, and the bullet patterns and stages are solid. Some of the core gameplay mechanics have been changed though, and it's a little mixed.

For instance, the bombs have been changed in 2 key ways; there are no longer unique bombs for each shot-type, and using a bomb costs you some of your Power instead of an item. Not having unique bombs takes away an element in picking your shot-type, but I don't mind the bomb itself since it's both effective and powerful. Losing Power can be frustrating, and you can end up in a horrible loop if you lose too much at once, but, MOST of the time I find MoF is very generous with Power, and that combined with not being restricted to bomb items can actually be a really sweet deal.

Most of the other changes are similarly mixed, but ultimately I think they work well together! There's only 1 thing I have major critism of, and that's the removal of practice and accessibility features. There's no more extra starting lives from here on out, which I understand, but it does make me sad, as extra lives allows new players to see more of the game (and allows old players to relax on just-for-fun runs). He also removed Spell Practice, which sucks :( But, by far the most egregious change, is that using a continue starts you over from the beginning of a stage….. and just seeing a stage is NOT enough to unlock it in Practice Mode. This is a HUGE hit to the game's accessibility for new or unskilled players, not even allowing them to practice the stage they're stuck on, or prepare for anything beyond it. If you die on a stage so much you have to continue, what the hell made ZUN think starting the whole stage over with almost no lives would help??

Thankfully, I don't need that accessibility much anymore, and there IS a fanmade practice patch out there. MoF is definitely among my top favorite games of the series, it's just a great basic shmup and great start to the new era. Also shoutout to my favorite final boss theme, Venerable Ancient Battlefield ~ Suwa Foughten Field. Loved it so much as a kid that I would mod it into other games LMAO

[TOUHOU 11: SUBTERRANEAN ANIMISM]

SA is considered the 2nd hardest game in the series, and there is good reason for that. Beyond the patterns and stages just generally being pretty difficult, the lives, bombs, and continues system are very punishing in this entry.

The continue system is exactly the same as MoF, which is to say, brutal and unforgiving. Bombs are also tied to power like in MoF, but unlike MoF, Power only goes up to 4.00 instead of 5.00 (with MarisaA as an exception) meaning less bombs overall and leading to the same issues there were in MoF. And, you don't earn full lives, you need 5 life pieces to gain a full extra life, and the one and ONLY way to earn life pieces? Is through clearing boss attacks without bombing or getting hit. There is not even a SINGLE free live in the entire game, you must earn every single one with flawless performance.

This leads to a scenrio where, high skilled players are rewarded with lives they don't need, and less experienced players are basically walled from even practicing. All this, combined with two other factors (some of the weirdest/most difficult to utilize shot-types in the series, and the fact that the actual bombs either suck ass or are also difficult to utilize well), makes SA one of the most "unfriendly" games in all of Touhou project. If not THE most unfriendly.

I have a lot of criticisms of this, and even now I can't say I feel "comfortable" playing through SA. But, (most of) the unique shot-types CAN be rewarding, once you learn how to wield them, and this game has some of the most exciting and challenging bosses. So many fun spellcards……… Satori and Okuu are standouts. Satori's gimmick is also really cool, where her spellcards change based off your shot-type, nearly all of them being alternate version of past spellcards in the series. And of course, this game's cast is absolutely iconic, pairing well with one of the best overall soundtracks in the entire series.

SA is one of those games where I have a lot of fun with it and think it's stellar in terms of music, cast, and bullet patterns, but certain systems and mechanics prevent me from recommending it whole-heartedly to others. There's just a lot of frustrations with it. But it's still fairly high up in my rankings, and there's some value to having a game focused on Skill and skill alone, rather than other gimmicks or resources management or whatnot.

[TOUHOU 12: UNDEFINED FANTASTIC OBJECT]

UFO was the first Touhou game I got to see the release for. It's one of my happiest memories, so my feelings towards UFO may be very biased. Just a warning lol

UFO's "gimmick", the UFOs, is how you engage with basically any other system in the game; you MUST engage with the UFOs if you're going for anything other than a NMNB clear. And ho boy is the UFO system contentious. Not without reason, either. Mid-Bosses and Bosses destroy summoned UFOs which is frustrating, it's super easy to make a mistake with gathering the small UFOs and ruin your combo, if there's small UFOs you don't want on screen they basically act as bouncing projectiles you need to dodge ON TOP of the actual bullets……. etc.

However, while I share a few of those frustrations (damn UFO destroying bosses…..), I find the UFO system to lead to a good combination of routing and room for improvisation. You can memorize when and where certain colored UFOs will drop and plan ahead for them, and if you miss what you need or make a mistake you can still think on the fly and re-route mid playthrough. It's also fun that you can specialize your routing and gameplay towards a specific goal, like stocking tons of bombs to skip difficult stage sections/spellcards, or optimzing for score, or stockpiling lives.

The overall difficulty of the stages and patterns is decently high in UFO (this game is often ranked 3rd hardest in the series), but it can be somewhat mitigated with good planning and resource management. And I personally find a lot of these stages and bosses a Blast to play! Helped again by, of course, having one of the best overall sountracks in the series…. imo at least. The UFO cast is also my personal favorite, AND they get some of ZUN's cutest sprites/artwork :)

The only other real criticism I have is that it shares it's Continue system with MoF and SA. Thank god this is the last game that forces you backwards for continuing ;;;;

While the UFO system has it's downsides, UFO is just a really fantastic entry into the series and a personal favorite of mine. We'll see how I feel once I start tackling the higher difficulties seriously though…… lol.

[TOUHOU 12.5: DOUBLE SPOILER]

Basically the sequel to Shoot the Bullet. There is very little difference, just a new set of characters and cards to face. I personally find this one a LOT harder than StB, and I don't enjoy it quite as much, but it's still a solid game I recommend it to anyone who enjoyed StB.

(EDIT TO ADD: Sometime after I wrote this part, I found an old blog entry from when I was 13, and apparently ZUN explicitly stated DS was meant to be much harder than StB. So, there ya go?)

[TOUHOU 13: TEN DESIRES]

The key phrase for this game overall, imo, is RESOURCE STRANGLEHOLD.

TD is far and beyond the most punishing game in the series, both in terms of resources and the Spirit Gauge/Trance mechanic. The requirement for the amount of pink spirits you need in order to earn an extra Life is brutal right from the start, at 8, and every time you earn a new life this requirement goes up. This doesn't reset when you die, or even when you CONTINUE. That would be brutal enough, but even with OPTIMAL PERFORMANCE, literally no mistakes and perfect utilization of Trance, you earn less lives in this game than in any other. Speaking of pulling of a perfect performance, good fucking luck, because the spirits you need to gather stay right where you killed the enemy, disappearing Quickly, so you have to either have your Trance meter full and ready, or you need to risk your precious few lives to dash up to the top of the screen, in the middle of an absolute clusterfuck of bullets, just for a FRACTION of an extra life.

And of course, there's the real kicker; getting hit causes your entire Trance meter to be used up, and it takes a quite a bit to refill it, especially because again, spirits Do Not Fall the way items do, you have to seriously risk your life for them.

Basically, TD is a very, VERY routing-heavy game, and if you make even ONE mistake it can cause your entire playthrough to unravel. It's super frustrating. There are only 2 saving graces here….. 1) you at least get to keep any extra bombs you had in stock after you die, and 2) TD has some of the easiest boss fights in Touhou. I actually find the spellcards super fun, so by sort of-kind of routing the stages and doing well against the bosses, I was able to find some joy in TD. But that is obviously in spite of the mechanics, not because of them ;;

I will say, though, that it's interesting to have a game designed to make you "boss graze", ie stay dangerously close to the boss and move around them to catch spirits. Interesting concept and it helps train you on a high-level skill.

TD was my least favorite Touhou game for a long, long time. I've softened on it a bit, fun bullet patterns are fun no matter what, but goddamn. This one's ROUGH. And sadly, the OST is pretty middling for me, though it DOES have a few standouts (Desire Drive, Youkai Shrine Back Road, Small Desire's Starry Night Sky)!!

[TOUHOU 14: DOUBLE DEALING CHARACTER]

Ah. DDC. My nemesis.

I actually don't mind this game's special mechanic; using the point of collection line to earn life and bomb pieces. I actually think it's fun and rewarding, though that could just be because I already go to the PoC line as much as possible anyways lol. No, my problem is not with the mechanic, or the life and bomb pieces. This game commits the most fatal of all sins in bullet hell; the bullet patterns are Not Fun.

So many of the patterns in the this game have 'gimmicky' movements, sometimes bordering on Random, and this is often used in combination with one of my greatest weaknesses, bullets coming at you from both above and below, at the same time. This makes them an absolute nightmare to read. There's also a ton of a bullets that are either oddly shaped with confusing hitboxes, or made huge which also makes their hitboxes confusing. And unfortunately, the stages and bosses that don't suffer from this generally have pretty bland forgettable patterns. I can't think of a single attack in DDC I would describe as "fun", and that's unheard of in the rest of the series.

Worse yet, the shot-types themselves……. half of them are 'gimmicky', kind of like SA shot-types were, but the SA shot-types had special extra mechanics that could be mastered and were rewarding to utilize, if uncomfortable to get used to. These shot-types are just plain Uncomfortable, or are underwhleming ;; MarisaB has a bomb that makes it possible to milk life and bomb pieces like crazy and basically cheese the whole game, but that's not fun either :( I wanna be able to PLAY the game and enjoy it…… but I can't.

And the final nail in the coffin…… DDC also happens to have my least favorite soundtrack and, imo, a very bland and unmemorable cast. I feel so sad saying that because I think there's some unique youkai here, but MOST OF their designs don't stick out/are pretty plain, and they feel very disconnected from Gensokyo at large. Maybe if I saw them in print materials I'd feel different, but as it stands…… :/

I want to say some nice things though, so here's what I've got. Wakasagihime has a great design (it's just…. y'know, she's a Stage 1 boss, so there's not much of her. Super sad considering I desperately wanted a mermaid Youkai). Raiko also has a cool design, AND she has the best theme in the game. Uhh…… the PoC line mechanic giving you an extra life piece instead of a bomb if you collect enough point items is a good feature that rewards smart planning and risk management. The Stage 2 boss has lasers you can avoid by staying completely still which is hilarious.

I…. think that's it. Let me say for the record, I'm open to changing my mind!! I softened on TD as I got better, found things I could enjoy in it despite my issues, so that could happen someday with DDC. It's just right now, nearly everything about DDC bounces me right off it, so it's the only Touhou I genuinely don't enjoy playing,, Hopefully someday that will change……

[TOUHOU 15: LEGACY OF LUNATIC KINGDOM]

LoLK is a bit of an odd ball, for sure. While you can play it like a regular Touhou game (using "Legacy" mode), the main mode of LoLK is "PointDevice", which plays very differently. It's focused on "perfection", and very precise movement and dodging, making you retry to same sections and attacks over and over again til you do them right.

You also earn Life pieces (Legacy) and Bomb pieces (PointDevice) via grazing, which requires you to risk your life getting super close to the bullets. All that, in combination with very dense and overwhleming bullet patterns, makes LoLK the hardest Touhou game by a long shot. Especially in Legacy mode, where you can't just retry over and over.

I honestly don't care for PointDevice much, especially because if there's a section/attack you CANNOT pass no matter how hard you try, and you've already used all your bombs, you're kind of fucked and Have to restart the entire thing ;; But, I still find Legacy mode fun, and as someone who loves to graze when I can, being rewarded for it feels good, AND allows for some really creative and interesting patterns/routing. On the higher difficulties, there's way more bullets to milk for graze, too. On one hand it's a little frustrating that it's HARDER to earn resources on Easy and Normal, but on the other hand you can argue that the extra resources help balance the insane pattern difficulty of Hard and Lunatic.

I'm not good enough to beat LoLK on Normal yet (it's the last one left for me), but I still think it's a pretty solid game overall, and I like to replay certain stages (2, 3, 5, and 6) on Easy just for fun.

[TOUHOU 16: HIDDEN STAR IN FOUR SEASONS]

Wasn't a huge fan of this one at first, but I've warmed up to it! Mostly

While this is not the first game with bullet erasers, it is the first to feature them so prominently, aside from maybe PoFV. It comes in the form of the Release system, which basically allows you to massively power down your shot type in exchange for clearing bullets (how much you power down and how many bullets are erased/for how long depends on your sub weapon choice). I think the way it can be utilized both for survival and for scoring is pretty cool. It can also be really broken if you know exactly where to use them, adding another element to routing and memorization. But it can also be handy during my casual play…… if you remember it exists. lol. I admit that I struggle to use any C key function properly ;; But that's a personal issue

The shot types are definitely interesting in this game. Instead of the standard fare, you pick a character (who always has the same shot) and then pick a "sub weapon" based on one of the other character's shots (or you can pick your own to make it stronger). This results in there being a whopping SIXTEEN COMBINATIONS, each with slightly varying properties. Lord. While I think I prefer having a smaller pool of unique and optimized shot types, this is a neat concept, if a bit overwhelming if you're like me and want to clear EVERY combination ;; But still, it allows you to sort of customize to what you're most comfortable with, or what will help you the most (for example, the Cirno/Summer sub weapon gives you short releases you can use repeatedly, but the weapon itself sucks ass as a tradeoff. So pairing it with a faster/more powerful character balances things a bit!), which is pretty cool.

My major complaints about this game are the 2 difficulty spikes; the Stage 5 bosses, and Okina's final spellcard(s). The Stage 5 bosses use the dreaded "random and erratic" bullet behaviour I hated so much in DDC, though thankfully only for SOME attacks. They're still a big spike compared to the rest of the game, even compared to Okina's fight……. until the end. Okina's final cards are super cool in concept, stripping you of your sub weapon and forcing you to just Dodge Or Die…….. but in practice it is PAINFUL, especially since it's the last obstacle before victory. She even has a bomb shield………. wtf. Brutal. All 4 variants are bad, but the Summer version is by far the worst, in my opinion one of the hardest final spellcards in the entire series.

There's also the extra stage, which is mostly spent dodging stuff coming from behind you (my nightmare), but that's more of a skill issue on my part ;; Overall, while the cast is very disconnected and don't leave a strong impression, the music is pretty damn good, the stages are fun, and the mechanics are interesting, even if they're a bit shakey and abusable. Not a top favorite but I like HSiFS :)

[TOUHOU 17: WILY BEAST AND WEAKEST CREATURE]

This game has a similar special mechanic to UFO, but I think it's a little better implemented here.

There are no "shot types" as it were; your choices are whether to power up your unfocused attacks, your focused attacks, or your bombs. This kinda makes it hard to have a preference, as each attack is better at different points in the game, so it's really up to you what's more important. I kind of like this, even though I still prefer variety, it means I can use other characters more freely.

I also like this version of the 'collect stuff on screen' mechanic, there's more leeway for mistakes (you can still activate "Roaring/Hyper" mode without having a perfect collection of matching spirits) AND the benefits are better (it protects you from hits while active, just like the cherry borders in PCB!! and you get either a massive boost to damage or a bullet eraser)! Like with UFO though, there is risk with chasing the Spirits all over the field, and it can lead to some frustrating deaths and distractions. But that's just part of what you have to manage, I think it's a fun system overall :)

What is Not Fun is an issue that actually started back in TD, but I haven't mentioned it yet, because WBaWC has it the Absolute Worst; VISIBILITY ISSUES. Your own shot, ESPECIALLY in Roaring/Hyper mode, can become so dense and flashy that it is near impossible to read the bullet patterns. Or see the bullets At All. Which is, yknow, a problem in a bullet hell game. On top of that, the whole game is tinted red, and full of red bullets, which is sick as hell on paper, but in practice makes a huge portion of the game become slurry to the eyes. And the Enemy tracker, which had its text removed back in TD, is more a problem in this game than in any other because the color of the tracker matches the color of the window border, so you may as well not even have it.

There's also a major problem in the Stage 5 boss (and in one final boss spellcard), with the stupid statues that are summoned……. I already don't like these kinds of "familiars", they''re always a pain no matter what, but WBaWC takes it to another level, as they soak up so much damage that very few of the shot types can kill them before you get body slammed or completely overwhelmed.

WBaWC is really fun and cool and has some great music and designs, but it feels…… almost like ZUN didn't fully playtest it before release. An issue that is going to persist into the final entries………. but it's still enjoyable overall, at least.

[TOUHOU 18: UNCONNECTED MARKETEERS]

I have a lot of fondness for it, but MAN is this game unbalanced lol

There's the obvious, which is the card system. I think the card system is a cool idea and can be fun to play around with, it's exciting when you get exactly the card you wanted, but there are certain cards/combinations that can kind of break the game, and it can be BRUTAL if you get nothing but trash cards on your run, and there are a Lot of 'trash cards'. And once you figure out your favorite card combo it's likely you'll never mess with anything else. Not strictly a bad thing, just a thing.

But then there's the real kicker…… Marisa. People are 100% right when they say this game is "anti-Marisa". I've tried not to mention the shot types I dislike (like most Youmu and Sakuyas), because that's a very personal/skill based issue, but here, the way this game is designed feels actively Hostile towards Marisa. It's hard to describe, but both bosses and stages are set up to have you fly all over the screen, or move off the sides a lot, and her range is EXTREMELY narrow………. AND both the shots and her bombs have been massively nerfed??? She's no longer the most powerful character, so there isn't even a trade off for picking the harder option. Seriously why the hell did ZUN nerf her AND make almost the entire game hostile to straight-forward shots?????

Well, whatever the reason, it makes her PAINFUL to play as. But, if you play as one of the fun shot types……. this game is pretty fun!! The first half a Little plain with it's boss patterns but the second half is a blast!!! If MAYBE a bit unfair (Megumu…….) ;; And the OST is fantastic all the way through. Plus, I just love the characters that were introduced, especially the 'masterminds', Megumu, Tsukasa, and Chimata. Very fun additions to the world of Gensokyo, I really hope we get to learn more about Megumu as the Crow Tengu chief.

If you're looking consistent play, look elsewhere, but for a fun time with light luck based elements this is a great game (if you don't play Marisa. Or Sakuya. lol)

[TOUHOU 18.5: 100TH BLACK MARKET]

Now this is an unique one! You go through stages that are split into semi-randomized sections, and along the way you gather money to buy cards. Bullet money buys cards during a run, and regular money lets you buy cards out of a shop so you can equip them from the start. So it's like….. a rouge-like shooter? Kinda?

I personally had fun with this. It's a little simple, and it can get repetitive, but it was nice because if I didn't have much time but wanted to mess around with bullet hell, I could boot this up and play a couple rounds to gather money for cards!!

Once you buy all the cards and earn all the achievements there's no reason to ever come back, which is sad, but idk, I had a good time milking bullets for money and slowly filling my collections. It shares some of the randomness issues with UM and is a little half-baked but I would still recommend giving it a shot, especially because it gives Marisa her time to shine after getting shafted in UM!

[TOUHOU 19: UNFINISHED DREAM OF ALL LIVING GHOSTS]

The final one so far!! I'll be honest, I've beaten it 21 times now I STILL don't understand how most of the mechanics work. Things just Happen and I either dodge or die. But what I can speak on is the downright bizarre balancing issues and the plethora of missing features.

The difficulty and balancing is wack. The vast majority of the characters feel underpowered already, and to top that off, only a small number of characters have bullet-clearing abilities, which is an absolutely MASSIVE advantage in this game, meaning that some characters are just objectively better than others. The story routes each character takes can also vary wildly in difficulty, making some paths a breeze and others nearly impossible even for the best players in the world.

But the most concerning thing for me is the missing features. No score? No "clear" achievement or signifier for different difficulty levels?? NO REPLAYS????? I can deal with the lack of score since I'm not a score player (yet), but having no indication or reward for 1ccing, and having no way to save or share your run without recording every single play session………. god. Idk, maybe it's silly, but that stuff is VERY important to me :( I'm still so sad about it, and it makes anything you achieve in the game feel….. hallow.

That being said, it's not all bad!! I love the new characters and their designs, there's some really interesting experimentation going on in the OST, I think the 'shield' mechanic adds a fun layer to gameplay (trying to make sure you're ready to restore the shield if it breaks while also trying to send over attacks and dodge)…… and I mean, dodging bullets is dodging bullets, so it's gonna be fun at least some of the time!!

Honestly, I just wish ZUN has balanced it more carefully, gave other characters more power or bullet-erasers, had more people play test it………. and of course, I wish it had replays and a way to track 1cc's :(((

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And that's it! If you read any of that, thank you, I know it was long ;;;;; But I had fun, I'm glad I got to talk a lot about my favorite game series :^)