#also my behind-the-cut feature is not working for some reason

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hello,

could you write a Hannibal fanfic, where the reader is Will‘s student ( very protective of her) and Hannibal takes a interest in her, after psych. evaluation? He starts wooing her over and Will (platonic) doesn‘t like it at all. In the end there is smut between the reader and Hannibal after a dinner party ?(Maybe Will later here‘s from Crawford about it, because Crawford went to Hannibal‘s house to get him for a case)

Hannibal x Reader: Off limits

Warnings: smut, kissing, patient x therapist, fingering, pet names, cowgirl, ridding, penetration ( p in v), no use of y/n, female reader

Words count: 4,6K (dear lord 🙃)

“I don’t know if this is a good idea Will.”

“Why not?”

“Talking to your psychiatrist about my shit? Don’t you think that crossing some kind of boundary?”

“First he's not my physiatrist, not officially anyway. And secondly I would say drinking at my house crosses more boundaries than this. That didn’t stop you though right?”

“Yeah I guess you’re right.”

“Plus you need this. Talking to someone about stuff helps.”

“Fine. You’re sure he’s okay with it right?”

A week ago Will had mentioned you to Hannibal for the first time since he’d started having his sessions. The conversation had begun because Hannibal had asked him if he had anyone in his corner that he could trust. Will had immediately thought of you. Despite being his student you had helped him through a lot of stuff and pretty soon he considered you more of a friend then a student. He worried people would accuse him of favoritism but you were one smart cookie so he didn’t really have to worry about that. You knew your shit. No one could deny that. Of course Will also worried about people spreading rumors that you were sleeping with him but when he’d shared his concerns with you you’d just shrugged. 

“People are gonna say shit about us anyway Will. I’m not gonna cut our friendship because of what some idiots say about us.”

He’d known he could count on you for anything but he could tell you were dealing with a lot more shit then you’d let on.  It was one of the reasons why he’d told Hannibal about you. Will wondered if maybe talking with someone you knew he trusted would put your mind at ease. So here the two of you were standing in front of Hannibal's office door. You fiddle with your fingers trying your best to call your racing mind. Will notices your fidgeting causing him to grab onto your hand. You look up at him with a small smile which he returns. You hear the door open making your head snap to look at it.

Hannibal takes in the sight before him, his eyes catching on the way Wills hand is latched onto yours. He forces his gaze to move back up to your face. His eyes soften a bit at the sight of you. You have a sort of deer in headlights look in your eyes and Hannibal can’t help but feel a bit of pity. From what Will had told him you weren’t super into the whole therapy thing but you’d accepted to talk to him because Will thought it would help. Still from the look in your eyes Hannibal could tell you were hesitant. He would have to convince you that you could trust him. 

Dr. Lecter gave you a welcoming smile before stepping to the side and gesturing for you to enter. You looked at Will for a moment, a twinge of fear present on your features. Will simply gave your hand a squeeze before letting it go.

“It'll be alright. Dr. Lecter will take care of you. I’ll be here waiting for you.”

“You aren’t going to come in?”

“I’ve found that the session works best if it's just the two of us.”

You glanced at Hannibal as he spoke, trying to make up your mind about him. He placed his palm out to you, inviting you to take his hand. After a moment of hesitation you accepted his invitation, taking his hand in yours and allowing him to guide you inside. He released your palm once you were inside, turning to close the door behind you.

You watched as Will's face slowly became out of view, his boyish smile no longer able to be seen. You turned around, taking in your surroundings. You’d never done this before so you didn’t really know how it worked. Should you sit down? Or were you supposed to lay down like they showed in the movies? 

Luckily for you Hannibal seemed to sense your confusion. He made his way to his chair, taking a seat before gesturing to the empty seat before him. 

“Please make yourself comfortable.”

You did as he asked, making your way over to the chair. You moved a bit trying to find a comfortable position. Hannibal watched you squirm a bit, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. You were quite a sight. Will seemed to have forgotten to mention that. Not that that bothered Hannibal. In fact he welcomed the surprise.

Once you were satisfied with your position you stopped fidgeting and raised your gaze to look at Hannibal. For the first time you saw him. Really saw him. He was oddly attractive with a sort of Victorian beauty. You weren’t used to guys like that. In the FBI most of the guys were covered in scars and built like monster trucks. They needed to look tough, even if they weren’t. That was just part of the job. 

But the man before you was nothing like that. With his tailored suit and perfectly combed hair he looked like a man of great importance. The sort of guy you’d call when you needed tickets into some sort of high society party. And yet he had this sort of energy to him that made you feel he wasn’t as innocent as he seemed. If anything his looks hid behind them a sort of unfiltered violence. But somehow you didn’t fear him. In fact you found yourself suddenly intrigued by a man you’d only exchanged less than a few words with. 

That was about to change however. Because the moment Hannibal started talking to you it seemed like everything you’d been holding in for years just started to spill out. You told him about how you were treated in the FBI, about how no one thought you had it in you to deal with this kind of stuff. You told him about your home life and your relationship with your family. Your deepest thoughts spilled onto the floor of Hannibal's office and he didn’t seem to mind. He listened to you with so much attention and understanding that it shocked you a bit. By the end of the session you felt like someone had taken the weight of your shoulders. 

Will watched you come out of the room, the sound of your laugh filling his ears as you and Hannibal finished talking. A sudden wave of anger filled Will's chest. What had Hannibal said to make you laugh in such an unfiltered manner? The thing about Will was that he was very protective of you. He saw you like a little sister so he couldn’t help but become on edge when in the span of one hour Hannibal had managed to strip away any hesitancy you had entered the session with. He was glad you seemed lighter but he also knew Hannibal and he couldn’t help but worry about his intentions with you. 

“I’ll see you next week Dr. Lecter.”

“Just Hannibal is fine dear. There’s no need for these pleasantries.”

“Okay then Hannibal. Same time next week?”

“See you then dear. It was nice seeing you Will.”

Will rose from his seat giving Hannibal one final glance before making his way to you. He placed his hand on your back guiding you towards the door. Hannibal didn't miss the way Will looked at him, but the thought disappeared when he saw the smile you gave him before you left. There was no denying it now. Hannibal found himself very interested in you. If there was something about Hannibal it was that he got what he wanted. And right now what he wanted was you.

You continued to have your sessions with Hannibal. Sometimes you’d talk about the FBI and your studies. Other times you’d talk of your dreams of the future. And then there were days where you felt like you had nothing to say so you’d convince Hannibal to tell you about himself. You’d begun to enjoy your sessions. The closer the day came the more anxious you became. You found yourself contemplating what to wear to therapy. Even though you knew your feelings weren’t exactly “professional” you couldn’t get yourself to care. You’d often catch Hannibal looking at you in ways that didn’t scream professionalism. The more you talked to him the more you felt like you were becoming friends and then one day Hannibal decided to make up his mind.

You were walking around the room, a habit you’d developed during your sessions. Hannibal watched you move around the room, his eyes following the sway of your hips. You had been talking about Will and Hannibal couldn’t  seem to hold his tongue any longer.

“Are you interested in Will Graham?  Romantically I mean.”

“What? No way! I mean Will is great and all but I see him more like an older brother then anything. He’s been there for me you know?”

You turned to look at Hannibal, your eyes finding him. He stared up at you with a blank look.

“Why do you ask?”

“Oh you just talk alot about him is all.”

“Oh come on Hannibal. Talking about someone a lot doesn’t mean you like them. You of all people should know that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you talk about Dr Bloom a lot but you’re not….interested in her.”

Hannibal watched your brows furrow for a moment, your gaze suddenly glued to the ground. 

“Unless you are and I've just read it completely wrong.”

You tried to keep your voice steady and impassive but Hannibal could see the slight disappointment in your tone. He called out your name forcing you to return your gaze to him. You glanced down at him in curiosity. 

“You are right. Talking about someone doesn't mean you like them.”

You held your breath for a moment awaiting for the verbal confirmation of what you already imagined. 

“I am not romantically interested in Dr. Bloom. I merely respect her as a professional.”

You let out a small sigh, trying your hardest to not show the joy you felt. Hannibal rose from his seat making his way to his desk. You watched him open one of the drawers grabbing a piece of paper. He made his way back to you standing mere inches from you. You looked at the piece of paper in his hand before grabbing it. Your eyes ran over the words scrawled out in his handwriting.

“What’s this?”

“An invitation. I’m having a dinner party on Saturday and I'd love for you to come.”

Will had told you about Hannibal's dinner parties and his custom of inviting people over for dinner but you never imagined you’d be one of these lucky few. A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth. You looked up at Hannibal catching the way his eyes narrowed in on your lips. 

“Thank you. I’ll be there.”

“Wonderful. It seems our time is up. I’ll see you at the party then.”

He walked you over to the door opening it for you. You nodded your head in thanks, making your way out. Just as Hannibal was about to close the door you spun around.

“Oh um… I've never been to a dinner party. What should I wear?”

It seemed like a silly question but you wanted to fit in with Hannibal's friends. You wanted to show him you could keep up with him. Hannibal looked at you for a moment before speaking.

“Wear whatever you feel like dear. I’m sure you’ll look beautiful in anything you choose. Your presence is the only thing that matters to me.”

Your heart almost stopped at Hannibal's words. It's had been a while since someone had given you such an unfiltered and direct compliment. You were a bit taken aback. In a good way of course.

Hannibal had just revealed to you, in a short amount of words, that he found you beautiful in any way and that he enjoyed being around you. Your mouth was dry as you tried to force yourself to speak. You managed to make your brain work enough to squeak out a small ‘Thank you until Saturday’ before racing to your car. 

When Saturday finally came you were practically buzzing with anxiety. You’d tried on three different outfits and settled on one you thought fit in with a dinner party, something stylish but not too flashy. The whole drive over to Hannibal's house you couldn’t seem to calm the hammering of your heart. You tried blasting music to calm yourself but it didn’t work. Fortunately your brain seemed to go into automatic mode because before you knew it you were parking in front of Hannibal's home. You stared at the house from the car window, noticing the lights peeking through the curtains. You took a deep breath in trying to dull the anxiousness you felt.

“He invited you. He wants you here. There is nothing to worry about.”

You stepped out of the car making your way to the door. You thought of knocking for a moment but you doubted he’d be able to hear it over the classical music that seeps through the door. Your finger moved to ring the doorbell, heels tapping the ground as you waited. You turned around talking in the rest of the houses on the street. 

Hannibal made his way to the door tugging it open. He didn’t know who to expect, he’d invited quite a lot of people and many of them still hadn’t arrived. All thoughts seemed to leave his mind when his eyes caught onto your frame. You had your back turned to him, the backless dress you’d decided to wear allowing him to see your bare skin. He stared at you for a moment opting to bask in your beauty before calling your attention. 

You spun on your heels as the music suddenly grew louder, eyes falling on hannibal. He was wearing a suit like he always was but you could tell this one was special. You were suddenly relieved by your choice of clothing. 

“Good evening dear.”

“Hi.”

“You look exquisite. But then again I knew you would. Please come on in.”

You took a cautious step forward entering his home. Hannibal closed the door behind you. 

“Come there are some people I want you to meet.”

He placed his palm on your back guiding you around the room. You were used to Will doing that when he was around you but it felt different with Hannibal. There was something arousing about the feeling of his bare skin on yours. You welcomed the feeling, moving across the room full of people with ease. Hannibal didn’t leave your side the entire party. Whenever he needed to do something he’d ofer his forearm to you, a silent request for you to join him. You laughed along with his friends and filled yourself up with the vast variety of food Hannibal had prepared. 

As the night went on people began to leave. They’d thank Hannibal for the invitation and go on their way. Oftentimes they’d thank you for hosting as well and you simply didn’t have it in you to correct them. You understood that the way you behaved with Hannibal made it seem like you were an item and even though you knew it was wrong you felt a thrill at the thought.

You finished saying goodbye to the last few people left at the party, closing the door behind you. Once you made sure it was locked you made your way over to the kitchen. Hannibal stood before the counter, his hands working on drying a glass of wine. His head snapped up at the sound of your heels against the floor. You smiled at him, making your way to where he was. 

“Need help?”

“No that's alright. There are only a few left.”

“Okay”

You turned to look at the clock seeing the time.

“It’s already that late? I should probably get going.”

You didn’t want to leave but you knew better than to overstep. Hannibal hadn't invited you to stay over. He'd invited you to the dinner party and that had already ended. Hannibal placed the glass in the cupboard before turning to look at you.

“Don’t go yet. There is something I want to show you.”

“Oh okay.”

“Go wait in the living room, I'll be there in a bit.”

You made your way over to the living room. Your feet were starting to hurt so you decided to take off your heels, leaving them by the couch. You walked around the room, making your way over to an odd looking instrument. You sat down on the bench in front of it, eyes moving over the instrument as you tried to understand what it was. 

“It’s a theremin.”

Your head snapped over to where Hannibal stood. He had removed his vest and suit jacket leaving him in only his dress shirt. 

“How do you play it?”

Hannibal made his way to you. You looked up at him when he stopped next to were you sat.

“May i?”

“Yeah of course.”

Hannibal moved to sit behind you. You sucked in a breath at the feeling of his chest against your back.

“It’s a difficult instrument. You must find the right pitch.”

You watched Hannibal move his hand over the empty air, a small gasp leaving your lips as sound began to come out of the instrument. Hannibal turned to look at you. His heart warmed at the smile that had spread over your face. 

“Would you like to try?”

“Oh sure.”

“Give me your hand.”

You lifted your arm allowing Hannibal to grasp your hand in his own.

“Relax your fingers. And try to keep your hand steady.”

You were finding it rather difficult to stop shaking due to the closeness you had to Hannibal. Every time he spoke you could feel his hot breath on your neck and your mind couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have his lips on your skin. Hannibal guided you hand with his. Sound filled the room once more but it wasn’t as nice sounding as when Hannibal had played himself.

“This is hard.”

“It is. The theremin requires a lot of practice. You have to be good with your hands.”

You wondered if he’d meant the innuendo or if he was simply talking and your diary mind had understood something else but you weren't about to waste your opportunity.

“You must have quite skilled hands then Hannibal.”

“I haven’t had any complaints yet.”

A small whine escaped your mouth, immediately followed by a pathetic sigh of Hannibal's name. HIs hand had found its way to your thigh, fingers drawing small shapes on the skin. Instinctively your body relaxed into his frame, your back pressing up against his chest. Hannibal's hand continued to travel down your thigh moving closer and closer to where you wanted him most. His lips found their way to your neck placing kisses to the skin. Your head moved to the side, offering up more of your neck up to him. He sucked a hickey onto you, marking you as his. 

“The body is a lot like a theremin.”

Your body jolted forward as his fingers found their way to your pussy. He reached into your underwear, slender fingers moving against your folds. You reached for his thigh hands wrapping around it in desperation. 

“You just have to find the right pitch to make someone-” 

A moan ripped through your body as he entered his fingers into you. 

“Sing.”

Your legs widened, allowing Hannibal to move with more freedom. His fingers moved into you at a slow pace. If it weren't for the pleasure he was bringing you you would almost think he was trying to torture you. Your free hand found its way to his cheek forcing him to turn to look at you. You place your forehead against his, panting as his thumb found your clit.

Hannibal watched your brows furrow as your eyes rolled back in your head for a second, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. He adored you like this. Completely wrapped around his finger.  Your nose bumped against his as you moved to kiss him. His lips welcomed you with ease, mouth opening to let your tongue in. Your muscle moved against his as he continued to pleasure you with his hands. You disconnected your lips from Hannibal, a small string of spit continuing to connect him to you. You were starting to get closer to your orgasm and Hannibal could tell. Your hand latched onto his shoulder, nails digging into the skin beneath his shirt. He kept his face close to yours as he continued to work on making you cum. Your breath fanned over his nose as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Your hips bucked up into Hannibal's hand searching for the last bit of friction you needed. With a skilled move of his thumb over your clit Hannibal had you cumming on his fingers. Your body spasmed against him, head falling onto his shoulder as white flashed over your vision.  

Hannibal watches your chest rise and fall rapidly as you float back to consciousness. He removes his fingers from your pussy guiding them to your lips. You open your mouth to him, sucking on his digits eagerly. Your eyes snapped open as he removed his fingers from your mouth, placing them inside his own for a moment before releasing them with a pop. You look at him dumbly, your mind completely fogged from your orgasm. Hannibal guides his hand to wrap around your face. You allow him to crash his lips onto yours, your body molding into him once again. It's then that you feel the hardness of him against you.

The feeling of his arousal sends a shock wave into your body making you come back to reality completely. You break the kiss, maneuvering your body so that you're facing Hannibal. You lift your body placing your thighs against his, forcing him to close his legs. You gaze down at him as you move to straddle him, your hand moving to his zipper. Hannibal continues to look up at you as you relive his dick of its confines. A pleased sound makes its way out of your throat at the sight of him. Your free hand moves to your pussy, tugging your soaked underwear to the side. You inch yourself down onto Hannibal's dick, watching his face scrunch up at the feeling of you.  His hands find your hips, his impatience causing him to tug you down onto his dick in one go. You gasp at the stretch hands moving to grasp onto his shoulders. 

“Fuck hannibal.”

“Feel so good dear. So perfect around me.”

You lift your hips slowly before bringing them back down. You try to start off slow but pretty soon your desperation gets a hold of you. Your hands move to Hannibal's neck, arms wrapping around him. Hannibal presses his face against your chest, his own arms moving to wrap around you. His hips move up, fucking into you. You try to help him as best you can but your thighs are already starting to hurt from being in this position too long. It doesn't seem like Hannibal minds though. In fact once he notices you’re giving your body up to him he seems to find some super strength because before you know it he’s ramming into you.

Your body bounces against his as he guides you up and down on his dick. You release his neck moving your hands to rest on his thighs. The new angle allows him to move against you with more ease causing him to speed up. Before you can even tell him you’re close you’re already gushing around him. Hannibal grunts as his cum paints your walls, his hand moving to rest against your chest. Your fingers move over his hair as he regains his breath, face still pressed against you. 

Hannibal lifts his head allowing him to look at you. You have lipstick smeared all over your face and your hair is all tangled but your face holds a look of pure unfiltered joy. Hannibal grins up at you, his hands moving to cup your cheek before pulling you into a tender kiss. You let out a satisfied hum against his lips. He breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours.

“Sleep here tonight.”

“Okay.”

You wake the next morning to the sound of the door bell. You groan, lifting your head from Hannibal's neck to look at the time.

“Who the hell is at your house this early on a sunday?”

“Shh go back to bed. They’ll leave soon.”

You snuggle back into Hannibal  allowing him to tug you closer. Sleep starts to take over your mind just as the doorbell rings again causing you to let out another groan. 

“I should see who it is.”

“Yeah and tell them to fuck of while you’re at it.”

Hannibal chuckles at your words, kissing your cheek before moving to get out of bed. You lift yourself up wrapping the sheets around your bare body as you watch Hannibal tug a sweater over his head. 

“Stay there dear. I’ll be right back.”

You nod at him watching him leave the room. He left the bedroom door open allowing you to hear him open the door.

“Jack, what are you doing here?”

Oh shit. 

You scramble out of bed tugging on one of Hannibal's sweaters before searching the ground for your underwear. You almost fall over as you try to put it on but you manage to do so without causing an accident. You pad through the house barefoot making your way to the front door. 

“Good morning. Sorry to wake you up so early but we have a case that we need help with. Will said you-”

Jack's eyes caught sight of you standing in the corner. Hannibal seemed to notice the shift in Jack's attention causing him to look in the direction he was staring at. Hannibal's eyes fell on your frame observing the way his sweater looked on you. You looked at him, your hands fiddling with each other. 

“Is everything okay?”

Hannibal stuck his hand out to you inviting you to come over. You made your way to them allowing Hannibal to pull to him. He placed a kiss on your temple.

“Hi Jack.”

“Hello rookie. I didn’t know you knew Hannibal.”

“Will introduced us.”

“He knows you’re here?”

“No. Why?”

“He called me yesterday. Said you weren’t home. And that you didn’t pick up your phone.”

“Is that why you came?”

“Oh no. We have a murder we need Hannibal to help with.”

“Okay. I’ll come too.”

Jack gave you a look of surprise. 

“You aren’t ready for the field, rookie.”

“And Will is?”

Jack opened his mouth to counter you but he knew better. He knew you were close with Will so he knew that Will had told him of all the shit he'd been through because of the FBI. Plus he knew you were famous for your stubbornness and he really didn’t feel like dealing with it right now.

“Fine. Go get ready. Both of you.”

With that Jack exited the house moving to grab his phone out of his pocket. He dialed Will's number. The phone rang twice before he picked up.

“I got Hannibal. We are going to the crime scene now.”

“Okay i’ll be there in a few.”

“Oh and I found your friend. You’ll never guess where.”

Will didn’t even need Jack to finish his phrase to know where you were. Anger bubbled into his body again. He’d have to have a talk with Hannibal about professional boundaries.

[littlexdeaths]

sympathy for the devil - e.m.

demon kas x human eddie x fem hunter (supernatural au)

i found god, i found him in a lover.

when his hair falls in his face, and his hands so cold they shake…

i found the devil, i found him in a lover.

and his lips like tangerines, and his color coded speak…

warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! established relationship, hate fucking, oral (fem receiving), unprotected piv sex, cream pie, mentions of blood, anything italicized is eddie’s inner dialogue to kas

word count: 3k

a/n: it’s me back again with another repost of an old fic. i also want to give a big shout out to my darling @undead-supernova for helping me edit multiple parts this fic. ily august 💕

You knew he was here.

From the smell of sulfur lingering in the air, to the heavy presence in the room. Your skills as a hunter were too great, you knew he couldn’t have led you astray.

But maybe he wanted you to find him.

This cat and mouse game you’ve been playing for months was just a little too exciting for him to give up. You should’ve been scared, your instincts told you to be. But hearing his husky voice cut through the darkness of the abandoned warehouse made your heart skip a beat.

“Nice to see you again, sweetheart…”

You couldn’t tell where he was yet, still using the cover of the night to shield himself from you. You clutch your bottle of holy water closer to your side as his chuckle bounced off the walls. “You’ve tried that before, it didn't work out so well last time. Did it, pet?”

He was getting closer, you could tell by the way your hair stood up on end. Squaring your shoulders as he finally steps out into the moonlight. The sight makes you freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief. Kas looked different from the last time you had seen him.

He had taken on a new vessel, one that had become quite familiar to you.

Eddie Munson, a bartender you had met at a place called the Hideout. After you’d stumbled inside the rundown bar for a drink after finishing a grueling hunt somewhere in Indiana.

He was sweet, and you both needed to let off some steam. So you took him back to your motel room for the night… and the night after that. The male had made you feel things no one else ever could. So you kept finding yourself going back to that shitty town to see him. Where he was always waiting with that charming smile and a rum and coke.

But now guilt riddled your chest as his once chocolate hues were a stark onyx, Eddie was long gone.

The demon in front of you smirks, eyes watching you in amusement as the recognition crossed over your features.

This was your fault, you put him in harm's way. You had been told time and again not to let yourself be involved with non-hunters. Regular folk. It would put them at risk, not knowing about the things that go bump in the night.

But demons were especially dangerous, they didn’t need consent to take over someone’s body. The only reason you were protected was due to the dark ink that swirled over your hip bone.

Kas takes a step toward you, causing you to take one step back in return. This only made that smirk widen as another chuckle slipped past his lips.

Lips that had been on you too many times to count.

“He thinks about you a lot, you know… wanted you to stay with him so many times.” The demon hums condescendingly, the implication behind his words makes your heart stutter in your chest.

Coming to the realization that you could never have that happy ending now, not with him, or anyone.

After crossing paths so many times, you knew how malicious the demon standing before you could be. Even if you were able to banish him back to hell, Eddie wouldn't be able to return to a normal life.

Once that veil between those worlds is lifted, there’s no way to undo the damage it causes. You’ve seen it more times than you can count.

“A little pathetic, really…” Kas continues as he advances on you slowly, backing you further into a corner.

Your emotions are clouding your reasoning, allowing the demon to continue to close in on you. It shouldn’t be affecting you like this, but as much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise… you knew one thing was true. You had fallen for the metalhead.

And now you’d never get him back.

“But don’t worry, sweetness— he’s still in here with me,” as he speaks you feel your back connect with the cool concrete, the male now caging you against it.

His body felt warm against yours, a juxtaposition to the cold seeping into your back. His familiar scent of citrus and tobacco engulfs your senses completely, bringing you back to the last time you saw each other. Your limbs were tangled together as you lay in a post sex haze. His lazy smile made your skin tingle, finding yourself tracing over the faded tattoos on his chest.

From the flash in his dark eyes you knew he was reliving a memory of Eddie’s, if not the same one.

His calloused fingers begin to trail across your neck, unintentionally allowing yourself to lean into the graze of his fingertips. Despite how your mind screams at you to push him away, your body continues to betray you. Kas can’t help but notice how your skin heats under his touch, how your thighs squeeze together. It amuses him more than you’ll ever know.

“Don’t touch me,” you mutter, wishing your words held much more malice than they do. The slight shake in your voice causes another dark chuckle to spill past his plump lips. Mocking you.

The demon leans further into your space, those damned lips grazing over your collarbone. The feeling causes you to shiver as goosebumps break out across your skin. Kas continues to leave hot, open mouthed kisses along your throat. The feelings of fear, anger and arousal mixing together— making your head spin.

“You can deny that you want this with your words all you want sweetheart, but I see the way your body reacts to this vessel.” He taunts, letting his teeth nip at your tender flesh.

“I feel those goosebumps on your skin, the way you shiver under his touch, and… I can smell you.” Kas growls, his teeth sinking roughly into your skin.

A slight whimper leaves your lips as you attempt to push him away. But it’s too late— he has the upper hand now.

His fingers lace themselves into your hair and tug, exposing more of your neck to him. He licks a stripe up your throat to your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth.

“I can feel how bad he wants you too, you know. The way he reacts to your body… you have no idea how much he wants to feel you again.”

Your eyes widen in shock as the demon presses his hips into yours, feeling how hard he was through the fabric of his jeans.

Get the fuck off her asshole, she’s mine!

Kas chuckles again, pulling back slightly as his hands continue to wander down your body. There’s a flash of something in those onyx hues, leaving you to wonder what hidden joke you’re missing out on.

“Your little boy toy isn’t very happy with me, sweetheart… he doesn’t want to share. How selfish of him,” he feigns a pout, leaning forward as his nose glides along your jaw.

I’m warning you, dickhead.

His deep chuckle fills the silence once more as his large hands grip onto your hips, “Isn’t he selfish, pet?”

“Fuck you,” you spit back, shoving him away but only momentarily. His hands quickly return to the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

That spark of defiance returns, which only makes the demon grin wider. His hold on your hips becomes harsher, the metal of his rings biting into the skin there.

“Hmm… with pleasure, darling.” His lips hover over yours as his sweet breath fans across your face. There’s a moment when those black hues slowly start to fade, the brown of Eddie’s returning.

Seeing that flicker of him, the man you had desperately fallen for— is what finally breaks your resolve.

Closing that short distance between you and angrily smashing your lips against his. He moans into your mouth, his hands hooking under your thighs to lift you. Trapping you further against the wall as he grinds his pelvis into yours.

You don’t know where Kas starts and Eddie ends, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

The kiss is angry, all tongue and teeth viciously clashing together. There’s still a small part of you that’s begging you to get away, that this was wrong. But your body has taken over control, that little voice fading with each press of his lips against yours.

His tongue glides along your lower lip, begging for entry you weren’t yet willing to give. The male doesn’t give up that easily though, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass and squeezing.

The action takes you by surprise, the small gasp you let out allowing him to slip inside. Kas groans as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, before setting you back on your feet. He pins your hips against the rough concrete as he kneels before you.

The demon eagerly buries his face in between your thighs as he inhales deeply, “I need to know if this pussy tastes as sweet as it smells.”

You’re stunned into silence as he reaches to quickly unbutton your jeans. Finding yourself all too eager to aid him in sliding the denim and lace down your legs. Stepping out of the fabric as Kas tosses them somewhere in the dark of the warehouse.

The brunette doesn’t waste another moment before his tongue is licking a fat stripe up your slit, forcing your thighs apart in his strong hands. Your fingers lace themselves in his wild curls, tugging harshly as you feel his tongue dip inside your entrance. His growl vibrates against your core, nose nudging your bundle of nerves in a way that has your legs trembling in his grasp.

“Hmm, even better than his memories…” you nearly miss his admission over your soft whines, but you don’t have time to dwell on it.

Kas eagerly replaces his tongue with his fingers as the muscle swirls up and around your swollen bud. Your head is swimming, his actions bringing you that much closer to the edge. The male enjoys the way you grind yourself harder onto his tongue as your grip on his hair tightens. Feeling the way your walls flutter around his fingers only encourages him to pick up the pace.

While your eyes have slipped shut, his are wide open. The stormy irises commit each pleasurable expression that flits across your face to memory— to both of their memories.

The almost inhuman speed of his fingers and the firm pressure of his tongue finally pushes you over the edge. As your loud cries echo throughout the empty warehouse. You attempt to push his head away, but his lips don’t leave your body. Instead he trails them down your thighs, smearing your slick across your skin.

You curse softly before dropping to your knees, pushing him backwards. He is surprised by your sudden dominance, but allows you to lay him back on the dirty ground. Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the zipper down with an urgency you had never seen from yourself before. It makes him chuckle, as you greedily shove his pants down to his knees.

“If you were that needy for our cock you could’ve just said so, sweetness.” He grins devilishly as your hands reach for the elastic of his boxers.

Mine, not yours…

Your eyes flick up to meet his, the smirk plastered on his lips fuels your irritation further.

“Shut the fuck up, Kas.” You say between gritted teeth, pulling his hard cock out from the confines of his boxers as he stifled a moan.

Fuck, that’s my girl…

You don’t give him much warning before you’re straddling his hips, sinking down onto his full length with a whimper. It didn’t matter how many times you had taken him to bed, you were still in awe of just how well he filled you up. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock, caressing your inner walls in a way no other man could.

It was addictive, a slice of heaven you never wanted to lose.

The male grips your hips tightly, guiding them as he rocks his own up against yours. He’s groaning beneath you, dark eyes watching the space where your bodies are connecting with almost… fascination. A creamy ring has formed around the base of his cock as you continue to ride him. You let your nails dig into his clothed chest with a satisfied whine, your head falling back as you take him deeper.

She really is an angel…

The demon doesn’t seem pleased with your languid pace any longer as he abruptly flips you both over. The movement knocks the wind from your lungs. Kas grins down at you, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight that has filtered in through a broken window. His large hands hold you firmly in place as he begins slamming into your cervix. Causing your back to arch off the grimy floor, your shirt riding up in the process.

The sounds of your bodies connecting fill the once eerie silence of the night. His eyes rake over your newly exposed skin, pushing the material further up your torso. His calloused fingers trace over the ink splayed across your hip with a dark look.

“This little mark might protect your soul, but it’s not going to protect your body.” He grunts as he continues to slam his hips harder into yours, “Not from me. Or him.”

You don’t answer, instead grabbing a fist full of his hair and smashing your mouths together. He kisses you back just as roughly, teeth catching your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The familiar taste of his saliva mixes with a harsh metallic flavor. The taste of you on his tongue only fuels the fire raging inside you. The male sucks your bleeding lip in between his.

Kas grabs your shaky legs, wrapping them around his waist to join you closer together. A gasp escapes your lips as he hits that sweet spot inside you, causing your eyes to roll back. The demon groans as he feels you pulse around his cock, trailing his lips over your jaw. The mixture of his spit and your own blood smearing across your skin.

“No wonder he can’t stop thinking about you,” his words are spoken so softly you almost don’t catch them.

Pride blooms in your chest as a small smirk graces your features, but it’s wiped away just as quickly. His hips pound into yours even faster, leaving any snarky comment to die on your lips. Instead a pleasurable cry pierces the air as your nails drag across his back.

You can feel your orgasm building with each deep stroke of his cock, filling you to the brim. His lips suck onto the base of your throat, his breath coming out in short pants as you tighten around him more.

“That’s it, angel. It's okay, I’m here.”

Your eyes that had previously fluttered shut, now snap back open. Coaxing his face up from the crook of your neck. No one ever called you that but Eddie, not even Kas.

Your eyes meet his brown ones, letting his hips slow their pace. That signature dimple indents his cheek when he smiles down at you, tears blurring your vision. You quickly blink them away to see him more clearly. Eddie leans down, gently kissing away the moisture that has stained your cheeks.

He wraps you in his arms, pulling you up and into his lap. The new position only buries him deeper inside you, allowing the pleasure to wash over you completely. Your body trembles in his embrace as you rest your forehead against his.

“Eddie,” you moan, grinding yourself harder onto his cock as he holds you close.

His touch is much softer as his hands reach out to caress every inch of you. While he still has control over his own body. Allowing himself to soak in every moment before he’s ripped away from you again. But between your pretty cries and his husky groans, neither of you will be lasting much longer.

“I’ve got you, angel… come for me.” The promise of safety in his voice makes your heart flutter in your chest.

Feeling his fingers encircle over your sensitive nub, he gives you one more hard thrust before you finally fall apart. A breathy cry of his name tumbles from your lips as you feel him twitch inside you. Your body melts further against him, an attempt to keep him here with you. Despite knowing the reality that was soon to come.

“Fuck… I love you. I love you.” He sounds desperate as he mutters the words against your temple.

In your blissful state you don’t notice the black haze beginning to overtake his irises. His words ring in your ears as you feel him spill inside you. Not stopping the movement of his hips as he fucks his essence deeper inside you. Letting your head fall into the crook of his neck as you mumble those three words back into his flushed skin. His comforting scent washes over you as you attempt to catch your breath.

“Well wasn’t that just so sweet,” your body stiffens in his embrace, his deep chuckle snapping you out of the sweet cocoon you were just in.

You quickly scramble out of his lap in an effort to detach yourself from him. His previously comforting touch now sets your skin ablaze, as if he had burned you. You can feel the mixture of your arousal dripping down your thighs as you hurry to find your discarded clothes in the dark.

In your frenzied state, you don’t hear him approaching until he’s right behind you. His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your waist as you bend over to retrieve your jeans. His hips flush against your ass, the metal on his belt pressing into your bare skin. His hand reaches around to dip in between your thighs, collecting some of the mess you both made.

Kas eagerly sucks the digits into his mouth with a moan, before you feel the warmth of his body disappear.

“We’ll be seeing you soon, sweetheart… you can count on that.”

Is the the last thing you hear as he slips into the still of the night.

[pansy-picnics]

A vat7k related question.

What do you think is Hugo's gender identity? Cus I want to hear what you think Hugo's gender is and the story behind it.

EHEHEHE personally i think she’s genderfluid and uses he/she/they pronouns…….I think he was kind of an uncracked egg up until the trials though. like, he’s been in survival mode for so long that he’s never had the time or luxury to really think about himself or his identity….i think he’s had a lot of different disguises over his career though, and those personas are either male or female depending on what the situation calls for so he’s not a stranger to dressing femininely either.

but yeah…i think for a long time hugo just identified as male by default cuz like…what else would he be LOL. if he had any doubts at all they weren’t significantly hindering him or anything so he just buried them with all the other of the emotions he doesn’t want to feel. but like the closet is made of GLASS and this becomes especially obvious when she teams up with 3 other teenagers who are also transgender so sometimes she’ll just Say Shit and they all turn around and look at her like “…….🤨”

i have this very vivid scene in my head where varian comes out to the gang as trans and hes clearly really uneasy abt it. and hugo doesn’t know what to say so he just tries to relate by saying the first thing that comes to mind and goes “oh yeah i get it i mean. sometimes i wish i was a girl but like not all the time yk” and nuru and varian both just stop and stare at him

hugo, getting nervous: …Sorry that’s probably not the same thing forget i said anything

nuru: No i think we should talk about this?

anyways yeah….other than her traveling party giving her some weird looks nothing actually really came of these conversations bc hugo would refuse to think about herself even if you put a gun to her head

fast forward to post-trials though, and hugo’s been living in the castle with varian for about six months…it was REALLY messy for both of them while she was adjusting, but at this point shes finally started to let her guard down a little, and all of a sudden she has SO much free time and she has no idea what to do with any of it. she’s stealing collecting things, tinkering with all kinds of useless little gadgets, rapunzel is teaching her tons of little arts and crafts projects. overall shes pretty content despite everything. So anyways then the gender crisis hits them like a fucking freight train

honestly i’m like half joking when i say i think it started bc they just kept forgetting to cut their hair. like one day they looked in the mirror and they’re like “wow my hairs getting so long i kinda look like a girl lol. Wait”

AND AS FUNNY AS IT IS ITS SO. WILDLY UNFAMILIAR TO THEM. like all of a sudden theyre SO insecure for as far as they can tell, NO reason and it drives them CRAZY. i dont even think that hugo dislikes their masculine features after coming out, i think they embrace them if anything but its just like…going from 0 to 100 so fast and suddenly being so hyper aware of themselves in a way that they NEVER were before…having to realize that they’re definitely Not cis. it’s fucking TERRIFYING!!!

not to mention it hits him all at once during a time when he’s still frankly really paranoid about him and varian’s relationship, and he’s kinda walking on eggshells bc deep down he’s convinced that var’s just gonna get tired of him eventually and kick him out. its like he’s just waiting for the final nail in the coffin despite the fact that there is literally no coffin.

All that being said i think it takes him a while to work up the courage to talk to varian about it. and he knows he won’t like. hate him for being trans or anything (I sure hope he wouldn’t, at least, seeing as he is literally also trans) but varian’s already done SO much for him and helped him through literally everything already….he doesn’t want to burden him any more than he already has. he also cant comprehend that someone can just Like him, like, as a person, so he’s convinced himself that varian must see something specific in him right now and he’s afraid that if he changes himself drastically in any way then whatever varian saw in him just. won’t be there anymore. If that makes sense

as for who he actually goes to first- honestly i think it’d have to be lance. at least in my head lance was the first person hugo really started to bond with aside from varian….he didn’t start letting his guard down with rapunzel until quite a while after that. also i think he’s worried that if he tells rapunzel she’d end up accidentally spilling something to varian (which is like. Valid bc she’s a horrible liar) he’d definitely write a letter to nuru, too, but nuru is also in another kingdom, and that message takes a while to get to her, so it’s more something they talk about after the fact

when he finally does get a letter back after dumping this revelation on her it’s just like

“dearest hugo. upon reading your letter i desperately wanted to tell you that i told you so, but i realize that would be in poor taste, seeing as you are clearly struggling right now. Moreover,-“ /j

regardless of who she tells first, they obviously all support her and encourage her to talk to varian as well…And ofc varian hypes her up to no end when she finally does. i wanna say it’s a sweet emotional scene but i feel like varian was also under the assumption that she figured out the gender thing like a year ago /j

hugo: ,,,,so like. i don’t think i’m a guy

varian: . yeah?

hugo:

hugo: TFYM “YEAH”?????!!!!???

varian: D. DID WE NOT ALREADY KNOW THIS?

hugo: ,???? NO???!!???!

jokes aside though as soon as hugo does decide he wants to explore his presentation more varian immediately consults rapunzel who gets WAY too excited about it and it kind of scares hugo a little bit. /j like Do you want to cut your hair? Dye it? Do you want new piercings? TATTOOS????

they eventually just settle on getting her a few new pieces to add to her wardrobe and that works out fine. varian sees his girlfriend in a dress and loses his mind etc etc. All is right in the world

[sim0nril3y]

First Date

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: It's no denying that their first date is a little rocky to begin with, but as things settle Simon wondered if he is in too deep. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), mentions of alcohol, suggestive conversation, slight mention of smut, canon-typical swearing (I mean, it's Ghost for fuck sake!).

Bloody fucking hell. It was still beyond him why Simon had actually agreed to this mess. Why had he done this to himself? Maybe he’d had too much to drink. Maybe a pretty face made him completely lose his mind… or whatever was left of it. Whatever the reason was he was here now. Waiting in an Italian restaurant with a cold lager half-finished beside him and the chair opposite him empty. Maybe you’d thought better of it. Maybe that was for the best. Fuck, it still fucking hurt though…

A sudden flutter of commotion came from behind him. Looking over his shoulder to watching as you rushed across the room, removing your coat to reveal a beautiful silky dress that contoured to your frame seamlessly, his eyes had lingered on your body for so long he almost missed the guilty smile you shared with him. “Bloody taxi driver got the wrong restaurant.” You announced before allowing your tense shoulders to fall. “I’m not typically this flustered – I promise.”

“I believe you.” Simon then rose and stepped around the table, taking your chair in hand and pulling it out for you to sit in before tucking it in. There was a lot you could say about Simon Riley, but he was a gentleman to the people that deserved it the most. After giving you a few moments to settle Simon finally asked. “You want a drink?” Taking a swig of his own beer and quirking his brow at you. “God, yes. I’d literally murder for a white wine.” Your dramatics made him laugh, like genuinely, he wasn’t really sure the last time someone had made him do that… Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mine Simon flagged down the waiter and ordering you one.

“What s’it you do for work?” Simon asked then, forgetting for a moment that it might be very possible for you not to be established into the working world yet, especially with how long young people seemed to stay at university now. “I’m a barmaid down at the Golden Lion.” Oh, he knew that place. It wasn’t so fancy up-and-coming gastropub. No, it was a rundown old pub owned by a miserable git. He knew the type of tossers that went in there too. “It’s not what I want to do forever, but it works right now.” There was an easy shrug to your shoulders before you admitted. “I’m an artist.” The words had drifted from your mouth with such ease. An artist. That wasn’t a real job, Simon thought. “You got any backup plans, kid?”

You blinked at him blankly before a grin spread across your features. “You sound like my parents.” Brushing away the question with another carefree shrug. That second Simon hated your optimism. It was that same optimism all kids your age had. That same sense that the world owed them their dreams. There was this malicious part of Simon that wanted to burst your bubble, deflate your self-entitled ego and remind you that the real world didn’t care about your dreams or your wants. Your voice cut through the silence again. “Who knows, it probably won’t work out, but I want to try just for a few more years.”

“Yeah…” Jesus, he felt like such a prick. He had just assumed that you was just some dumb kid that felt like the world owed them something, but… but you were just a hopeful girl that was chasing a very tricky and far away dream. Who was he to judge? You’d found a way to sustain yourself whilst also trying to navigate into a very select profession. “You any good?” His cheeks suddenly set aflame at how the question sounded on his tongue. “Your art, I mean. Is it good?”

A delicate giggle bubbled in your throat as you finished your wine with a quick swig. “I like to think I’m pretty good…” Lifting your sultry and inviting gaze to find his own. “Maybe I could show you sometime…” Simon couldn’t believe it when he felt his heart fucking stutter in his chest. Fucking hell. It was that moment that he realised was in deep here. Clearing his throat Simon adjusted himself discreetly in his seat. It was going to be a hard end to this dinner – no pun intended.

Leading her across the carpark Simon stood beside the waiting cab, hand on the open door as you spoke softly to the driver through the window. A moment later you gazed up into his eyes and offered quietly. “I had a really nice time tonight…” The sweetness of your tone was enough to warm him even in this bitter night air. “Yeah…” He grunted out. “Me too…” Adding swiftly a moment later causing you to breathe out a subtle sigh of relief. “Are you gonna put me out of my misery and take me out again, or gonna make me beg for it?” Jesus, the idea of you begging was something that made his heart race. Knelt. Eyes pleading. Every inch of you- Stop. He can’t do that right now.

Placing a firm finger under your chin Simon jutted her head back forcing you to meet his intense gaze. “Get the feeling you don’t beg all that often, kid.” That same little smirk found your lips, watching as your eyes darkened at his comment. “M’sure it’s a sweet fuckin’ sound…” He was fighting internally with himself. Part of him screamed to just give you exactly what you wanted. Bend your tight body over that bonnet and fuck you stupid. Another part of him told himself to allow himself some form of happiness, take you out again and see what might happen. The final part scoffed and scowled at that optimism. It warned him that being with him was practically a death sentence. No, he needed to let you go, let you move on and find a boring man to turn into a husband and pop out a couple ankle-biters with.  “Are you free next week?” Your question came interrupting his cruel inner monologue. No. Say no. End this. “Yes.” A wild grin tore across your features, you had certainly won this round.

Masterlist | Ask | 30-08-2023

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

save me SMG4 episode save me

(the following is my live reaction:)

moo-stache moo-stache moo-stache

why do I feel like Pedro's going to be here?

"bruh Pedro was just a one-time thing." they literally killed off Mickey, ANYTHING can happen

KAIZO YOU'RE BACK HI

OMG please tell me someone from the Team saw this fan animation and put it in the episode as a nod to the animator, that would be awesome!!!

btw great fan animation, go check it out if you haven't [link]

YAYYYY, c'mon Mario you gotta spend time with your brother :)

also I need to find a playthrough of this game while I work

whoops my hand slipped [*makes 4 say "I should've chosen the USB over you, 3"*] :)

Hey Shroomy :D ....oh *western spaghetti flashbacks*

like seriously, I can't hear that audio the same way again

helicopter helicopter (copter)

oh hey swag *he fades away* NOOOOOO

well, digging did (mostly, sorta) help the last episode

OMG HI HI HI MY SILLIES

Three, why are you here if you think it's stupid? unless... 🫵 🏳️‍🌈⁉️

it's giving "I'm only here to support my boyfriend's interests", like I'm starting to believe that they truly are dating behind the scenes

they're on a date, your honor 💙💜

and there they go bickering again smh /affectionate

I'd like to think that ever since Four drives a forklift, that's just his method of transportation. screw the car, we're taking this baby out for a spin :)

Mario, you need to be ✨forklift certified✨

sorry, just Three's gayass poses give me life

actually yeah why is the line not moving?

the boys :)

also that walk animation tho

HOW LONG IS THIS LINE?!

also c'mon Three, show us your dance moves :D

oooooh that editing i love that

THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING

now that they've mentioned it, why are there so many conventions happening at the same time? hmmmmm *game theory theme starts playing*

SMG3: "Maybe they're lining up to go to your mom's house. That line's usually pretty long." DAYUM THREE

"the line doesn't end" ayo wtf????

shroomy, you've eaten mushrooms before and you had no problem with that

....it really is the end of the world huh

ONE WEEK LATER?!?!?!?

"there is no end" "the end will come" me, sitting in the corner: hmmmmmmmmm

whelp, it's confirmed, I kin Four now

Three's not going coo co crazy, he's just vibin' :)

THIS IS WARRRRRR

this whole fighting scene omg it's SO good!

....WOTFI? ok no :P

AWWW THAT WAS ACTUALLY SWEET DUDE

CAN WE PLEASE GET A HUG? FOR ME SPECIFICALLY?

.... yeah uh Boopkins, you're going to have to explain what the hell you mean by that

not that it's surprising, we've been through a lot. just another Tuesday (or Saturday in this case)

MY HEART CAN'T TAKE ALL THIS FLUFF

HUG HUG HUG

THAT'S MY BOYS

RAVE PARTY [*dances*]

....sonic, is that you? sorry, my mind is still in the sonadow generations phase so I can't unsee them

:O wait, Boopkins, what did you mean by that?

MARTY?!?!? WTF

SMG4: "Don't worry, Mario. There's one way we can fix this." Beat the shit out of him...? YEAH I KNEW IT HAHA

*explodes*

and congrats to samgagmincho for your art featured at the end credits 🎉

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

This was a fun episode, I loved it!! Seeing my boys is always a plus and I appreciate the return of some side characters. With how the world is right now, I really needed this episode. So, thanks Team, for keeping my spirits up.

I just enjoyed watching my silly little guys doing silly little adventures. Traffic is a nightmare so I don't blame Mario in the slightest. Anyway, 3 and 4, how was your date? /silly

Can we just talk about the animation? It was so good!!! You really see the quality they put in, especially in that fighting scene. I didn't expect MARTY of all people to be the cause of all this. I honestly thought it was going to be a gag of something harmless just being in the middle of the road for no reason (like a turtle or smth) and the Crew being like "ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!" but NOPE, Marty was here and apparently A SORCERER?! I really shouldn't be surprised, what am I talking about here. And ofc the OG duo immediately beating the shit out of him is so fucking funny to me. He didn't die (I know that), but he's definitely going to be more relevant in the future.

...puzzlevision 2? ok I'm sorry

SMG4 show and jokes aside, I hope you all are ok. No matter what happens, we'll stick together. Don't give them the satisfaction that they want. You aren't alone, and we'll keep on fighting.

Going to be a Sonic fan here, Sonic 06 is famously known to be... augh. But there is a good moment with Shadow that I think is relevant now:

Mephiles (the villain of the game): "It's futile. The world will betray you. Why fight at all? Why risk your life for those who will persecute you later?" Shadow: "If the world chooses to become my enemy, I will fight like I always have."

Take care, my dear fellows, and I'll see you all in my next post!! Hmmm, there is "no end" [*game theory intro plays*]

[woaza]

Hi hi! I am so glad to see more delico's nursery fic, especially from you!! It's a crime the fandom is so small. Lately, I have been obsessed with Gerhard and devouring all your fics like a gourmet meal. Could you write about him being married to a high-position officer (like being part of the High Executive of the Blood Police)? So she is really strong and her true strength lies in her exceptional combat skills, strategic mind, and emotional resilience. Kinda like Mikasa Ackerman level AHAHAHAH I am just a sucker for strong lady :DD I hope you don't mind this long request and remember to take care of yourself!!!

Gerhard x Fem!Officer

Contains : Headcannons!

Word count : 4k

Warnings : Slight mentions of violence in a job setting, Gerhard really ‘appreciating’ readers fit figure, Gerhard a little sexiest? Also not double read through for grammar mistakes.

A/n : I’m so so so happy you like my fics! I’m sorry for the wait on your request. I hope you enjoy it.

— Gerhard was podstivly stunned. When he first saw you. You shook him to his core a bit for sure. You’re very being conflicting with his base beliefs. Such a strong figure and energy you carried. And your a women in the blood police? Why would a woman as beautiful as you want to work in such a violent occupation? Let alone a high executive? Yeah he definitely has his eyes on you.

He saw you at the agency in your Uniform. Badges run down your coat, you boots clicking across the tile as you walked. Not speaking or even giving him a second glance. His eyes visibly widened and he caught his breath, only slightly. Choosing to not let it affect him. Yet for some reason after that one close encounter in the small hallway he started to notice you more often. That’s how your whole romance with the stern man started, his shock.

— After that consider Gerhard your devoted husband. Yeah he was hooked. You didn’t spare him a second glance? Probably didn’t even know who he was other than one of the agencies detectives? Long story short, he ended up over working himself just for even a glance or head nod from you until you and him finally got a proper introduction.

— Lord Fra is a man of a certain cut. He only likes to see things his way. His wife, you, being one of the voices of reason in his life. He listens to you. Like really listens. Never in a million years would he ask anyone for help on a classified assignment but you. Each time he’s stumped you always seem to have an idea or solution, your intelligence without a doubt is his favorite feature about you.

He sits in his chair clutching onto the documents scattered across his desk. The fire place cracking loudly, much to his annoyance. How sometimes he wished he could simply sit in pure silence. This case had him almost completely stumped. His eyebrows furrowed so deep that it seemed as his skin would permanently crease. A the door gently creeks open and you strut into the room. “Still on the Mr.Morhead case?” Walking behind him and leaning over his shoulder. Your hands moving to rest on either side of his neck. He does nothing but grumble a bit. “Did you check with his wife, I haven’t seen a file or report come though about her yet?” You whisper quietly, patiently as you scan over the papers. His eyes widen, he wasn’t aware or even informed the man was married. You always seemed to point out little details he missed. It may seem like it annoys him, but don’t be fooled. He loves it.

— He could rave and rave about your mind for days. Unlike other women he’s tried to pursue you are by far the most extraordinary.

— Will go out of his way just to catch a glimpse of you, even if it’s a second. Sometimes you spend early mornings in the Garden with Angelico and one of the house maids. Even though the South wing hall is completely out of his way when he’s leaving for work, he will walk through that because it’s the only one with windows facing the area of the garden your drink your morning tea in. It literally a brief moment and completely out of his way, but he makes the effort.

— Further on that, everything about you to him is perfect. Nothing less for the head of the house Fra. In the weekend evenings when you go in for a bath, ignoring how it improper it is. He likes to help you undress for your bath. His eyes locked onto your lean muscles. Your body a work of art, showing every hour that you’ve put into your work. He finds your dedication extremely attractive.

— Never can beat you in chess, it’s drives him a bit mad. Your ability to always be one step ahead of him is simply humbling. Which is a hard feeling for him to be grapple with. ‘Lord Fra being beaten by his wife in a simple game of chess?’ He can practically hear people say (which no will never know of it and he’ll be sure of that) and it’s embarrassing for him. Then he look up at you sitting across the board heavily contemplating your next move, “oh yes, that’s my wife… the general and head of command.” It makes his fragile ego feel better.

—In the end you never ever cease to amazing and will never admit it, but worships the very air your breath. 

A/n #2: sorry this was a little short! Hope you enjoyed it! Maybe I’ll have to elaborate on this more. I liked this request a lot!

[glassrowboat]

Red Ribbon. Chiori.

Summary: A not so peaceful morning with your girlfriend. Well, not when you're up to mischief anyway.

Word count: 900+

Authors note: The start of a small series I'm going to write of the seven colors of the rainbow in ribbons with some of our genshin faves! Also, a slight spoiler for Chiori's kit.

The small shop was always such a cozy place to huddle up in, the one specific chair that had been covered in loose scraps of cut out fabric currently occupied with your figure as you fiddle with a spool of something or another. Pretty red ribbon right under your fingers as Chiori slowly walks around the pinup body adorned with a dress.

The click of those overly complicated heels filled the room as you watched Chiori circle around the mannequin in the center of the room, its fabric body adorned in layers of cloth. Another commision she was working on no doubt as she snipped a loose thread. Precise as possible, that is until she tries to toss it over at you.

The string falling on the ground between you two. Apparently it was your fault you had become her designated place to pile scraps after you took the chair she would usually use for such a task. Red ribbon being wrapped around your finger and undone again and again mindlessly as you watched her.

“Now where did I put that?” Talking to herself again, a habit she would never openly admit to, Chiori pat down the apron she had on that held her tools. “(Y/n) have you seen-”

“This?” Holding up the spool of ribbon you had been playing with a smile easily crossed your features, even as her eyes narrowed. “No, I haven't.”

“Then you have no issue giving it to me.” Walking over to you Chiori tried to snatch the item in your hand, her sleeves rustling from the action as they flowed behind her. You never got how those kimono sleeves didn't get in her way all the time but she always pulled it off somehow. Good for her.

That however wasn't enough of a reason to give in as you climbed up further on the chair, feet pushing against the cushion as you stood up from your curled up position, knees no longer pushed up against your chest as you held her prize high in the air.

Hopefully she doesn't deem this offense enough of one to use her visions abilities. Stupid teleportation abilities.

“If I recall correctly, taking possession of another's items could be considered a crime. Would you truly really want me to take you to court over this, (Y/n)?” A flick of her dress, those same sleeves billowing in the wind as she crossed her arms. Oh she was so cute when she tried to look mad.

Deciding to play along you held the ribbon up higher, making sure it was above even your head. “Well, when I go down to the Fortress of Meropide should I come back with a fit rate of the Guards uniforms?”

Wait, is she actually considering it? Head tilting, pretty brown hair shifting over her shoulder as Chiori stood in silence before softly shaking the thought off. “Just give me the ribbon back.”

Huh, this must be for a commission if she's being such a little stickler. Not that that would lessen your need for a bit of mischief. As they say, breaks are healthy. “How about a deal?”

“A deal for my own possessions?”

What's a synonym for stickler again? Hypercritic, perfectionist, nitpicker.

“Don't make it sound like that.” Even if it is true. “Come on pretty, a kiss is all I want and then I'll give it back. Please?”

A small sigh could be heard as she glanced back between her prize and you. Red ribbon tickling at your wrist as the spool unwound from your earlier actions. A standoff is currently happening in Fontaine's very own Chioriya Boutique. At least there's no guns involved, just a miffed geo vision haver and her lover.

“You make such a big deal over a kiss?” She asked, brows furrowing as she looked up at you. “Next time just ask instead of acting like this.”

But where's the fun in that?

“Well?”

Leaning down just enough so she could get on the tip of her toes, or more like those heels, you pucker your lips to try and coax her into giving what you wanted.

Oh that heavy sigh. Yet there her pretty face was coming in closer. The details of Chiori's eyeshadow clear to you, the pretty light tint of powder as her eyelashes fluttered closed. “Fine.” And with that she kissed you.

The rich, heavy taste of coffee from Cafe Letece you had gotten for her earlier filling your senses. She had always been so insistent the run there was better than opening some random can she had imported over from Inazuma despite the fact she went through all the effort to have Kirara deliver it in the first place. Perhaps it was the fact she was so selective when she wanted the taste of home.

Well, the taste of your home was her as Chiori slowly pulled away. Her soft lips abandoning yours as the spool was snatched from her hand, robbed right under your fingers as the cardboard that it was wrapped around was replaced for air. Not even the sticker smacked on top labeling the thing for sale you had been picking at earlier was clinging onto your skin.

How rude.

“Beautiful,” you cried out as you hopped off the arm chair, stumbling over the floor as you landed, trying to chase after her in the small shop. “Wait, wait! Come back I want another!”

“Then it seems you'll have to find more ribbon to bargain with.”

Ignoring you Chiori went back to the pin up mannequin in the center of the room, holding up a strip of the ribbon to the sleeves of the dress as she pinned it in place with small metal needles.

Well…that's your girl alright.

“Love you, my pretty.”

[zerun0]

"The Colors of Us" — Viktor x Y/N (Gender-Neutral)

And this is my third story on the universe of Arcane !

English is not my first language. Feel free to comment on any of my mistakes and i will update the post, also I more than happy to receive suggestions, and advice on how to improve my work.

Heavily inspired by — "What happens in the bathhouse... " by LinkyDinks —

— ! WARNING NSFW (+18): ! — Established relationship, sexual themes, Flirting, Hot tub, Teasing, Masturbation. — Word count: — 2,9k (Full uncut version on AO3)

Piltover was a city of progress. Tall spires of metal and glass soared above, glittering with the promises of science and invention. Airships cut through the sky like graceful birds, and beneath their flight, the streets bustled with a mix of inventors, artisans, and scholars from the prestigious Piltover Academy. Among them was Y/N, an artist, seeking to find their place in the city of progress through the lens of creativity, which often felt out of step with the methodical precision Piltover demanded.

Art was Y/N’s form of rebellion, a splash of chaos in a place where everything had its place and function. Though some in the Academy dismissed their work as frivolous, others—like Viktor—saw the genius in it. Viktor, with his brilliant mind and soul shaped by invention, had always been a reserved but sharp-eyed companion. To Y/N, he was more than just an intellectual ally; he was a kindred spirit, even if they expressed their gifts in drastically different ways.

It was rare that Viktor took time away from his work, so when Y/N invited him out for a quiet evening in the upper levels of Piltover, it was a surprising to see the tired one accept it.

"Just one night,” Viktor had said in his soft, accented voice. “I think... I could... we, we both could use a break.”

— Small time skip: Around 7:24 pm —

As they walked together beneath the glittering streetlamps of Piltover’s wealthiest district, the air crackled with the shared energy of anticipation.

"The Grand Hotel" was nothing short of breathtaking. It stood tall, adorned with the finest Piltover could offer—gilded archways, lush tapestries that draped the walls like fine paintings, and crystal chandeliers that gleamed in warm golden hues. For an artist, it was almost overwhelming, the richness of it all. But it also held the charm of something fleeting, a place far removed from the gritty streets and the cold laboratories.

“Quite the place, isn’t it?” Y/N mused as they entered the lavish lobby, stealing a glance at Viktor. He looked as composed as ever, his face framed by his dark brown hair, the glow of the dim lights making the sharp lines of his features seem even more striking.

He gave a rare, almost shy smile. “It is… a bit excessive. But I thought perhaps it would make for a change of pace.”

They made their way to the front desk, where a young attendant greeted them with impeccable manners and a smile polished like the marble floors. After a quick exchange of pleasantries, they were handed a key.

“Your suite is on the top floor,” the attendant said, bowing slightly.

Y/N’s had mentioned nothing about staying at a hotel, much less in a suite. Viktor's curiosity piqued. It wasn’t like him to indulge in luxuries like this. His usual quarters were cramped and bare, filled only with his inventions and research papers. Still, Viktor followed without complaint, knowing Y/N’s always had their reasons.

The elevator ride was swift and silent, taking them to the topmost floor, where their suite awaited.

The room itself was a masterpiece of elegance, but Y/N’s eyes were immediately drawn to the massive window that stretched across one wall, revealing a panoramic view of Piltover at night. The city’s lights glittered like stars, reflecting off the calm waters of the river far below.

“Wow,” Y/N breathed, walking toward the window, captivated by the beauty of it all.

Viktor followed a few steps behind, his cane tapping gently against the marble floor. He stood beside them, his golden-brown eyes quietly taking in the view, though Y/N suspected his thoughts were far away, perhaps on some new invention or scientific discovery. Still, there was a certain calmness about him tonight, a softness that made Y/N’s heart flutter.

“Thank you for inviting me,” Viktor said, turning to face them. “I didn’t realize you knew such places existed.”

His tone was light, but there was something deeper in his gaze as he looked at Y/N. Something unspoken, but undeniably present.

After a shared dinner in the suite’s private dining area—a delicious meal accompanied by wine neither of them usually had time to enjoy—Viktor excused himself for a moment. Y/N took the opportunity to wander the room a bit more, letting their fingers trail along the silk sheets and finely crafted furniture. A door to the side caught their attention, and they opened it to reveal a luxurious bathroom.

And at its center, a large, marble hot tub.

Y/N's eyes widened. It was set in an alcove surrounded by lush plants, steam already rising from the warm water. It looked like something out of a dream, a place meant for relaxation, indulgence, and... something more.

A soft knock on the doorframe pulled Y/N from their thoughts. Viktor stood there, his jacket now discarded, leaving him in a simple shirt and trousers. His eyes flickered toward the hot tub, and a faint blush crept up his neck.

There was a silence... then Y/N spoke — “Would you like to join me?” Y/N asked softly, stepping closer.

Viktor hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “A-are you sure?”

"I would be more than happy" — Y/N said, their hand fixing a strand of hair in Viktor's face, you had flirted before, but you felt bold and courageous today.

Y/N started to undress as they watched Viktor's face turn red, the scientist tried to avoid looking upon their bare, naked body. But a few curious glances found their way towards Y/N, as they turned and approached the hot tub.

The warmth of the water was immediate, soothing, and Y/N felt their body relax as they sank into it. The soft glow of candlelight illuminated the room, casting long shadows that danced across the marble tiles. — "Now... will you join me, handsome?"

Viktor hesitated, red, and stuttering for his dear life, as he could not think straight. But soon nervously removed his clothes as if his desire took control of his movements. — Then followed them in, moving carefully due to his bad leg. Once he was settled, a small sigh escaped him as the heat worked its way through his tense muscles and pounding heart.

For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the only sound the gentle ripple of water and the soft crackle of the candles. Viktor leaned his head back against the edge of the tub, his eyes closed, and Y/N couldn’t help but watch him. He looked different like this—vulnerable, almost human in a way that the world often didn’t allow him to be.

Y/N’s fingers twitched. They had an overwhelming desire to touch him, to capture this moment not with paint, but with their hands. And so, without thinking too much, they shifted closer, their hand brushing against Viktor’s.

His eyes fluttered open at the contact, a question in them, but Y/N merely smiled. Slowly, cautiously, Y/N raised a hand to cup Viktor’s jaw, their thumb grazing the line of his cheek.

“You’ve been tense,” Y/N whispered. “I can feel it.”

Viktor didn’t pull away. Instead, he tilted his head ever so slightly, leaning into the touch. It was as if he were starved for it, for that gentle connection, though he rarely allowed himself such indulgences.

“It’s difficult not to-o be,” he replied, his voice soft yet so nervous. “But with you… it is e-easier.”

Y/N’s heart swelled at the admission. They shifted even closer, so that their knees brushed under the water, the steam swirling around them like a veil. They could see the faint rise and fall of Viktor’s chest, his breaths a little shallower now. Under water an clear erection as he looked to Y/N eyes.

“Let me help you relax..” Y/N murmured, their voice low and intimate.

Viktor swallowed, his throat bobbing under Y/N’s hand. He didn’t protest, didn’t resist, and that was all the permission Y/N needed.

With slow, deliberate movements, Y/N slid their hands over Viktor’s shoulders, feeling the tension there, the strain of years spent hunched over workbenches and machines. They began to massage the knots from his muscles, fingers working with gentle pressure all the way down to his most intimate areas, holding it gently and seductively. Viktor’s breath hitched slightly at first, but then he let out a soft exhale, his body slowly melting under their touch.

“Y/N,” Viktor whispered, his voice a little ragged now, filled with something more than just gratitude. It was want, need—things he rarely expressed, but that Y/N could feel in the way his body responded to their touch.

Y/N leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Viktor’s jaw, just below his ear. They felt him shiver, though the water was still warm. The heat between them was palpable now, a simmering tension that neither of them seemed eager to break.

Viktor’s hand came up then, tentative at first, but soon firm, resting on Y/N’s hip beneath the water. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were afraid to break the spell between them. But Y/N welcomed it, their body responding instinctively, leaning into his touch, as they continued to masturbate the shy one.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The only sounds were their soft breaths and the faint lapping of water against the sides of the tub.

Then Viktor’s lips found Y/N’s, tentative at first, his breath shaky with uncertainty. He was gentle, almost hesitant, as if testing the waters of a world he rarely allowed himself to enter. But the warmth of Y/N’s touch, the reassurance in their closeness, softened his reservations. Y/N responded with equal tenderness, their lips moving against his with a quiet, unhurried rhythm, savoring the moment.

Viktor’s hand, trembling slightly, found its way to Y/N’s waist beneath the water. His touch was tentative, but there was a quiet intensity to it, his fingers curling around their side as if anchoring himself. For a moment, he stopped their partner's hand from touching their intimacy, afraid to break too early. His forehead resting against theirs as they both caught their breath, the silence between them thick with anticipation.

“You don’t have to hold back,” Y/N murmured against his lips, their fingers tracing the edge of his collarbone. “Not with me.”

The next kiss was different. It was still soft, still careful, but there was a need behind it now, a slow-burning intensity that hadn’t been there before. Viktor’s hand, once hesitant, moved with more confidence, sliding up from their waist to the small of their back, pulling them closer as his lips parted, deepening the kiss. Y/N responded in kind, their arms wrapping around his neck, fingers threading through the damp strands of his hair as they pressed their bodies closer under the water.

Y/N could feel his restraint slipping, the careful control he usually held onto crumbling as their hands moved over him, as their lips met again and again in a heated, desperate rhythm. Viktor’s hands slid lower, his fingers tracing patterns on their back, their waist, the feel of his touch sending shivers through Y/N.

Their hands roamed over each other, exploring, searching, the water lapping gently around them as they moved. Viktor’s hand slipped under the water, resting on Y/N’s thigh, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through them. Y/N gasped softly against his lips, their own hands moving to mirror his touch, fingers brushing over the sensitive skin of his hips.

Viktor groaned softly, the sound low and desperate, and it only spurred Y/N on, their touches becoming bolder, more confident.

“I’ve-e wanted th-h-his… for so long,” Viktor murmured against their lips, his voice barely more than a whisper, filled with a vulnerability that made Y/N’s heart ache.

Y/N kissed him deeply, their hands cupping his face, their thumbs brushing his cheeks as they whispered back, “Me too, Viktor.”

For a moment, everything else faded away. There was no Piltover, no Academy, no responsibilities or pressures. There was only them, tangled together in the warm water, their lips and hands exploring, their hearts pounding in unison. It was slow, it was heated, and it was perfect—two souls finding solace in each other, in the quiet spaces between invention and creation.

Now, there was simply Y/N on the skinny scientist member, their touch subtle and gentle, as they did their best to drive Viktor into their release with rhythmic movements ... up... and down, like they painted a masterpiece of pleasure.

And then, with a quiet gasp, Viktor’s body tensed, his grip on Y/N tightening as he reached the edge, his breath catching in his throat as the tension finally broke, as he allowed himself to cum, as all his fluids mixed with the water.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Viktor allowed himself to relax completely. His head rested against Y/N’s, his lips barely brushing their neck as he let out a soft, contented sigh. The vulnerability of the moment settled between them, and Y/N could feel the quiet gratitude in the way Viktor held onto them, the way he let himself simply be there, with no pressure, no expectations—just them.

They pressed a soft kiss to his temple, letting their lips linger there for a moment before they whispered, "Viktor… maybe we should get out of here."

He stirred slightly at the sound of their voice, blinking slowly as if coming back to the present. His cheeks flushed, not just from the heat of the tub but from the lingering embarrassment that seemed to settle in the air now that the moment had passed. Viktor shifted against Y/N, his body weak from both exhaustion and the vulnerability of the night.

“I… yes,” he murmured, though his voice was soft, almost hesitant. His hand, still resting gently on Y/N’s side, trembled ever so slightly. “I think that… would be wise.”

Viktor sat up a little, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided Y/N’s gaze, his usual reserved demeanor slipping back into place, though there was still a softness in his expression

Y/N stood, the cool air hitting their skin as they stepped out of the tub, offering Viktor a hand to help him up. He hesitated for a moment, his golden-brown eyes flicking up to meet theirs with a hint of sheepishness, before taking their hand. His legs felt unsteady as he rose, and Y/N could feel the slight tremble in his grip as he steadied himself.

Once they were both out, Y/N handed Viktor a towel, watching as he carefully dried himself off, still avoiding eye contact. His cheeks were still flushed, and Y/N could see the faint quirk of a shy smile on his lips, though he did his best to hide it.

“Are you okay?” Y/N asked softly, stepping closer and resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Viktor nodded, though he let out a soft, self-deprecating chuckle. “I am… perhaps a bit more tired than I anticipated.” His voice was quiet, a little breathless, and Y/N could tell he was still processing everything that had just happened.

“Then let’s get you to bed,” Y/N said with a warm smile, their hand sliding down to lace their fingers through his, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Viktor’s eyes met theirs for a brief moment, and he nodded, clearly relieved by the suggestion.

Together, they made their way to the bed in the center of the room, the sheets looking impossibly inviting after the intense heat of the hot tub. Viktor sat down on the edge first, his shoulders slumped slightly, as if the weight of his usual stoicism had been lifted, leaving only the exhaustion of the night.

Y/N slid in beside him, wrapping their arms around him from behind, pulling him gently into a soft embrace. Viktor leaned into their touch, his body instinctively relaxing against theirs. The tension that had built up over so many years, in both his work and his emotions, seemed to melt away in the quiet safety of Y/N’s arms.

He let out a soft, almost contented sigh, his head resting back against Y/N’s shoulder. “I… I never thought I would feel this… close to someone,” Viktor admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, the vulnerability in his words cutting through the air like a confession.

Y/N pressed a gentle kiss to the back of his neck, holding him tighter. “You deserve this, Viktor. You deserve to be cared for, to have someone by your side.”

He smiled weakly, his eyes fluttering closed as he leaned more fully into their embrace, his exhaustion catching up with him. “Perhaps,” he whispered, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “But I… I do not know what I would do without you.”

“You won’t have to find out,” Y/N whispered softly, their hands tracing light circles on his chest as they cuddled closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[insilanar]

Any lestappen fic rec to share ? 😣 Any favourite author on ao3! I need some!

Hi anon 😘 Of course! In fact I've actually been working on a personal fic rec, so I'm glad I get to share it with you!

Here you go, hope you enjoy <3

Lestappen fic rec

Short-ish fics 🩵

control systems a College AU by @itsgoingdutchin2021 | 1.2 k

Summary:

Due to an unfortunate encounter in their freshman year, both Charles and Max hate each other. Then they are assigned a group project.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

your hands are cold a High School AU by dhufflebee | 3.9 k

Summary:

“I feel like this event should really be called ‘Frosty Fusion’ or something like that.”“That is, of course, incredibly stupid.”“Hey!”“It doesn’t mean that ‘Snowmen Competition’ isn’t the most boring name ever, though.”OR: long-time friends and rivals Charles and Max hail from neighboring schools, and brave the biting cold, the challenges of snow sculpture, and their own buried feelings

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Kiss It Goodbye (Your Little Panic Attack) F1 Fic by @celientjeee | 5.1 k

Summary:

‘What- How did you do that?’ Charles asked, he still felt a bit shaken and hot, but the tingling had disappeared.Max smiled at him and let his hands drop away from Charles’ cheeks.‘I once read that holding your breath could stop a panic attack and when I kissed you, you held your breath.’‘I did?’ Charles winced at how high his voice sounded. OR: Charles gets a panic attack and Max helps him (more than once)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Fics between 10 k and 20 k 🧡

Cheating at Bingo and Other Christmas Traditions a Cozy Winter AU by @wanderingblindly | 12.4 k

Summary:

"You know, there’s a very nice, very handsome young man in my neighborhood –” She starts back up, flagging down their waiter for another glass of wine.“Absolutely not,” He cuts her off with a dismissive wave of the hand. “Next topic.”“So you’re too good for him, is that it?” She sounds defensive, but her tone still has a mocking edge to it – emphasized by the quirk of her brows.Hardly holding back a groan, Charles tries to think of a way out of this. She’s like a cat, batting at him until he gives up, rolls over, and plays dead. “That’s not – I’m just busy, and it’s –” OR: Hallmark style fluff featuring an irritated Charles, a well-meaning Max, and the grandma that just wants them to kiss

Rating: General Audiences

<3

Golden Hour a Uni AU by Chariots4 | 13.2 k

Summary:

Max is a great roommate. So great that when Lando asks him to be part of a music video he’s filming he does so, without asking what it will be about.Turns out he will have to model with no other than Charles Leclerc. As lovers. The two men’s desire to not be outdone by the other takes the whole thing to new levels.

Rating: Explicit

-> This is also a personal favorite of mine since it was my first ever Formula 1 RPF fic and honestly, it's written amazingly well!👌

<3

oui chef a Chef AU by @sunshineyoujustwait | 16.2 k

Summary:

There’s someone standing in his kitchen.He looks young, maybe close to Max’s age, with messy dark brown hair that’s pulled back from his face by a red bandana, and he’s leaning against the kitchen counter like he’s supposed to be here.Max’s first rather unhelpful thought is; fuck, he’s gorgeous. His second, more reasonable thought is;“Who the fuck are you?”“Charles Leclerc,” the man smiles. It's a little bit dazzling and Max is not at all distracted by it. He extends his hand for Max to shake. “I’m your new executive sous chef.” OR: Max is very happy with his life, thank you very much. He has his restaurant, his team, and two Michelin stars at the age of 24. He definitely does not need some pretentious Monegasque chef coming in and throwing everything into chaos.Except, maybe he does.

Rating: General Audiences

<3

you got me a College AU by @fueledbyremembering | 16.6 k

Summary:

When Max looks up he stares into pretty green eyes behind black rimmed glasses. His hand is still blindly feeling around to find the books—his brain lagging—as he stares at the guy from last night. He straightens up and Max follows, staring dumbly as he holds out the books for Max to take.“Thanks,” Max says, feeling like an idiot as he takes the books, their fingers brushing for a split second. This was not how he wanted to meet again. “Again, I’m so sorry.”The guy smiles and Max thinks he might just die a little when he notices he has dimples. Of course he has dimples. OR: Max falls head over heels for the cute guy at a college party and he can't stop thinking about him (aka the lestappen college au nobody needs).

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

<3

Fics above 30 k ❤

Late night devil put your hands on me a Thief/Detective AU by @f1-giuki | 42.1 k

Summary:

"Do you want to know what is more incredible?" Max asks, staring at Charles' full and round pecs without any shame. "What?" Charles asks, enjoying how Max's cheeks get redder and redder as he licks clean the fork. "Stealing the Nine Pieces of Eight, with me," Max says and Charles drops his fork in the plate. "The Nine pieces of eight? Isn't that like a legend? The owner of those artworks is unknown…" The Monegasque asks, furrowing his brows. Max grins and rolls his eyes. "I know a guy..." Max says, pulling Charles close by the elastic band of his boxers. OR: World-class thief Max Verstappen asks Interpol Detective Charles Leclerc out on a date (to put on the world's most complicated heist ever conceived) but things never go as planned.

Rating: Mature

<3

To Your Heart’s Content a Mafia AU by @cornerofacry | 119.4 k

Summary:

Max pinched the bridge of his nose as he went into the car. Before his chauffeur could close the door, however, Daniel leant in, having rushed from the bar’s entrance."I forgot to tell you…" the Australian begun, his face serious and grave.Max gritted his teeth, silently nodding for the man to continue. He couldn’t stand much more. He wanted to scream at the entire world. To run home and hide and force some sense down his own throat.To put himself back together."I left a- a gift at your house. For your birthday… I planned it long ago, before-""Alright," Max cut him, short and harsh. OR: Charles, a high end prostitute, finds himself in the arms of a man who really, really, cares for him, despite the gun on his nightstand.

Rating: Explicit

<3

Favorite lestappen authors 💕

NovaCloud, Richardmarie75, WanderingBlindly, xxcelientje, amarynas, charlescoded, LestappenForever, linearity

Note to the authors: If your fic is on here and you would like me to take it down I will. Feel free to just dm me about it or drop and ask 😌

And anon I hope you find something you like on this list!

[feathernotes]

BACKGROUNDS IN WEBCOMICS

I want to talk about sustainability in your work process, featuring our fave: Backgrounds. How to simplify, convey, and deliver in comics! (examples include Phantomarine, Wychwood, Shaderunners and Ghost Junk Sickness) The usual suspect to burnout is often the workload involved. Many ppl who FULL HAM on pages that def need a detail cut for many reasons Main one being: You don’t need excessive detail to tell whats happening in a small panel, in fact, less is better. When you observe a page in its entirety, where does the eye travel? Where does the eye stop? Having a fully rendered BG in multiple panels can actually be a huge distraction, on top of the time it takes to get there. So how do you balance?

In Phantomarine, the most detailed panel is the establishing one, it holds our characters and allows readers to understand the positions they're all in/standing at. Its one panel that provides a specific telling detail: the railings behind Phae indicate we're on the boat.

In the bottom left panel,the artist uses the railings again, but doesnt have to render the lights, floor boards, or sea to show where we were, then uses the colours of said BG and mood to paint the rest of the page. This is where colours/gradients and small objects save the day! The same example is here, just flipped. The establishing shot shares DETAILS that you need to show the readers where we are, then the BG of Pavel eating food isnt over whelmed with background characters or other details that get in the way of the ACTION that is to be conveyed

it would be rather distracting if we were to see Pavel eat that bowl, with sooo many more details involved in the panel- instead, the drapes, hues of light, and clever sound effects tell us what is happening. Wychwood does the very same with establishing shots, then KEY DETAILS to provide the reader with where the character is standing, without sacrificing the facial expressions and details of the CHARACTERS that we need to get across

Most detail is in the top panel, the BAR that Julian holds onto is a KEY PIECE to show where they are in the BG already established. Perfect use of BG! Get used to thinking of those key details when changing scenes and establishing shots!

Pick those key details to tell the reader where they are and draw that. If you have a library scene, please just draw that BG once! Take a specific bookcase or key feature, use blocked shapes and colours, and make it less detailed than the provided establishing shot. I also wanna talk about : Action Scenes Focusing on the ACTION of the scenes is SO important when you have them, and often details get lost when a creator focuses on details that can distract a reader! My advice? Most action scenes are best without/need little backgrounds. A few shots from Ghost Junk Sickness demonstrate this. We're paying attention to the action- we've been established where we are before, so let's play in the sandbox now.

Have a panel or two peppered in there, with the same principal as above to ground where your character is, but do not add a BG in every panel. It instantly takes away from the action when it's not integrated as well, and it takes SO MUCH MORE TIME to draw that sequence!

Read More amazing tips: Here are some GREAT examples by the creators of ShadeRunners, HERE who break down how they do backgrounds ( AND CROWD SHOTS!!!!)

TL;DR: Comics are a MULTITUDE of skills and needs. It takes a lot of time and work to pull it off, so working with methods that make it easiest for you as the creator is what will help you maintain that momentum and stability you need! Good luck and get comicking!

[autumnshighlady]

Teacher's Pet

Nesta Archeron x female!reader

first part in The Professor Series

summary: Dr. Archeron is the strictest professor you've ever had. No matter how hard you try, you can't get her to praise your work. That is, until she calls you into her office

warnings: smut, power dynamic, mean Nesta Archeron, 18+ only

word count: 3.7k

request: my legs shake just thinking about Professor Nesta x reader. Nesta being a serious, rigid and sadistic teacher. And the student being the typical exemplary student

a/n: this is part one of my professor series! each fic will be on the shorter side so I can get as many characters done as possible. Enjoy!

series playlist on Spotify here

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You sat in the centre seat at the front row of class, furiously scribbling down notes in your book. Your hand ached with the effort to keep up with the professor’s sharp voice, but you fought through it. The echoing of pens on paper filled the lecture hall, a dull background noise amidst the lecture on classical literature. It was the only class where every single student paid attention and behaved, for fear of suffering the wrath of the icy professor, Dr. Nesta Archeron.

The female was the most feared teacher in Velaris, known for her sharp tongue, tough grading, and zero tolerance policy for bullshit. She commanded the classroom like a general over an army, with complete and utter authority. She was also the hardest one to get praise from, much to your disappointment. You were a straight-A student, always at the top of your class. Your teachers had always loved you, often commenting on your intelligence and eagerness to learn. 

All except Dr. Archeron.

No matter how hard you tried, you were unable to get a single positive comment from her. The most you’d gotten was a nod of her head, and even that earned you hushed congratulations from your classmates around you. Therefore, you had made it your mission to get one compliment from her before you graduated. And you had three months left, and so far nothing.

It was particularly difficult to concentrate today, however. The professor had her hair done up in its usual coronet, a few loose strands framing her sharp face. She was wearing a black turtleneck that hugged her curves, forcing you to keep your eyes on her face. It was paired with a dark brown pencil skirt and sheer black tight underneath, topped off with knee high black boots. In other words, she looked stunning. Well, she looked that way every day, but for some reason today your brain decided to fixate on it even more.

God, those boots made you want to just drop to your knees in front of her–

“Miss (Y/N).” A familiar sharp voice snapped you out of your trance, making you look up. Dr. Archeron was staring down at you, an unimpressed scowl written across her features.

“Yes, ma’am?” You asked, voice quiet. Your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, and you just wanted to crawl under the desk beneath her grey gaze.

“Did you even hear my question, or were you too busy daydreaming?” She demanded, arms crossed.

“No ma’am.” You answered sheepishly, wringing your hands together. “If you could possibly repeat–”

She cut you off, voice as cold as ancient stone. “No. This is the third time I’ve caught you distracted in this class today. Since I’m clearly distracting you from daydreaming, you have no reason to be here.”

Your heart dropped in your stomach. Never before had a teacher spoken to you this harshly. It made tears well up in your eyes. “Professor–” You began to protest, but were interrupted once again.

“Leave, now. See me in my office at 5pm.” She did not spare you a single glance as she turned away to resume the lecture.

Fighting back the tears, you gathered your stuff as hastily as possible. Nearly tripping over your bag, you scurried out of the classroom, letting the door slam aggressively behind you. It was childish, and you regretted it immediately once you realised you’d have to face the professor again later.

5pm was a strange time to meet in her office, you thought to yourself. Normally most professors have left campus by then, but you didn’t think much of it. Tossing your stuff on a nearby bench, you sat down and put your head in your hands. You couldn’t hold the tears back any longer, and they began to fall down your face. You spent the entire semester trying to get Dr. Archeron to like you, and you had just blown it. All because your stupid brain got distracted by how good she looked. You were no better than a man.

“Hey, doll.” The cheerful voice of the archival studies professor, Dr. Helion, sounded a few feet away.

You quickly wiped your tears, trying hard as possible to hide the evidence of your crying before lifting your head to meet his bright gaze. “Hi, Dr. Helion.” You said, hoping he was on his way to a meeting or something and would pass by.

The professor paused, cocking his head. “What’s wrong, sugar?”

His kind voice broke your composure, and you began crying again. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. Helion was not phased, however. He took a seat next to you, placing a large hand on your shoulder. “It’s ok.” He murmured, rubbing your back. “Let it out.”

After a few minutes of sobbing underneath the professor’s touch, you finally caught your breath. You felt a little better having cried – Dr. Helion was the go-to professor for informal life advice. He was popular amongst the students not just for his stunningly good looks, but his wisdom. You knew you weren’t the first student to cry on his shoulder, and wouldn’t be the last.

“So,” He said. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“My literature class,” You mumbled, wiping your hair from your face. “I got kicked out.”

Dr. Helion frowned. “Kicked out? What’d you do, kill someone in the middle of class? You’re my best student!

You laughed. “I think I’d feel better if I had killed someone and gotten kicked out. She just… Dr. Archeron got so mad because I missed her question. I don’t think I deserved to be kicked out for that. I have to go see her in her office later today, I’m worried she’s going to fail me or something.”

Dr. Helion sighed, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “That’s fair. Dr. Archeron is tough, that’s for sure. See what she has to say when you meet with her, then give her your side of the story. She’s strict, but reasonable. Don’t let it get to you. You’re a brilliant student.”

You smiled at him, the anxiety in your stomach easing up at his comfort. “Thank you, professor.”

“Anytime.” He stood up and began to walk away, but turned to face you one last time. “Just between you and me, she likes you. That’s why she was so tough on you. She wants you to succeed.” Helion flashed you a wink before departing down the corridor, leaving you more confused than ever.

Dr. Archeron liked you? Enough to mention it to Dr. Helion? It seemed like she hated you just as much as any other student. It only made your nervousness come back as you checked the time, groaning when you realised you had six hours to kill before your meeting with Dr. Archeron. Literature was your only class for the day, and you lived all the way on the other side of the city. It wasn’t worth the long trek there and back, so you decided to find something to eat and review next week’s readings while you waited.

****************

Finally, 4:55pm came. You checked your outfit one last time in the bathroom mirror. You donned a simple pair of leggings with a low-cut red tank top that made your boobs look good. A soft grey cardigan was draped over your shoulders, your hair left down and framing your face. You normally tried to look a bit less casual, but today was not your day it seemed. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves you took the steps down the hallway to Dr. Archeron’s office door.

4:58pm.

You paced back and forth outside her door, overthinking. You weren’t sure if you should wait two minutes in case she was busy, or if you should knock early. At this point, you didn’t want to do anything to risk her wrath again, so you continued to pace until you heard a stern, “Come in, (Y/N).”

Sighing, you pushed open the door and stepped inside Dr. Archeron’s office. It was a beautiful space – rich, wooden shelves with hundreds of old books lining them, a large green sofa with plush white pillows at either end, and a beige rug in front of the desk that adorned the centre of the room. The professor didn’t look up as you closed the door behind you. “Were you trying to make a hole in the floor? I could hear you pacing from in here.”

“Apologies, professor.” You muttered, taking a seat in the armchair across the desk.

“Speak up.” She demanded, still not sparing you a glance as she continued writing something on a piece of paper.

“I…” Your voice trailed off, unsure of what to say. You were at a loss – normally you excelled in conversation with professors, the skill coming naturally to you. But your throat was dry, and no words came out.

Finally, Dr. Archeron looked up at you. Her grey eyes met yours, utterly unflinching. “You’re nervous.” She stated rather than asked.

You paused the wringing of your hands. “No–”

“Let’s not lie to each other, shall we?” The professor said, putting down her pen and resting her elbows on the desk. “I’ll try again. You’re nervous.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You make me nervous.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. You felt your face getting red again. To your surprise, the corner of Dr. Archeron’s lip twitched.

“Because I’m a strict, heartless professor?” She said casually. “I know my reputation. I’m proud of it. It gets students to obey me. I’ve heard many great things about you, miss (Y/N). You’re a star student. Perhaps I make you nervous because I don’t sing praises in your ear for everything you do?”

You flinched at her harshness. It felt like an insult, like she was mocking you for being praised so much. Defeated, you admitted a quiet “Yes.”

You looked down at your hands as the sound of a chair scraping on the floor echoed throughout the room. High heels clacked on the wood as the professor walked around to the front of her desk. She was standing less than two feet away from you. “Look at me.” She said sternly. You obliged, lifting your chin up to meet her gaze. She stared down at you with a level of softness you hadn’t seen before. Her brows weren’t furrowed in disappointment, but relaxed in their natural arched position.

“Listen to me closely,” She said. “You do not need praise from me. You know why? Because you’re a good student and you know it. You don’t need it validated by me. Have confidence in your own intelligence and capabilities. A female as smart as you shouldn’t be reduced to tears just from me sending her out of class for zoning out.”

You sucked in a breath at her words. They were harsh, yes, but kind in their own way. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at her compliment, which was redundant to her point but you let it slide. “Thanks.” You said quietly, fighting to keep the smile off your face.

“Which brings me back to why you’re here in the first place.” Dr. Archeron continued, crossing her arms. “You zoned out three times today. You’ve been doing that lately and I want to know why. Is my content boring or do I just make you that nervous?”

“Your content isn’t boring, ma’am.” You said quickly.

She smirked, which unsettled you. “So it’s the second one then?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but closed it. You had no idea what to say – either you denied it, and then had to come up with a bullshit reason why you were zoning out; or you admit the humiliating reason why your attention was drifting off to fantasyland where you were bent over Dr. Archeron’s desk and letting her have her way with you. “No–” You began.

“I thought you were going to be a good girl and be honest with me.” 

Your thoughts came to a screeching halt as her words hit you. Good girl, the phrase that was your unfortunate weak point. It seemed your professor knew it too, the way her smirk deepened at your reaction. “That’s what I thought.” She said, pride seeping into her voice.

You wanted to drop dead right then and there. There was no way you were getting out of this – she KNEW about your crush on her. You could tell she had figured it out a while ago, and was cornering you now to confirm it. You began spewing apologies faster than your brain could comprehend. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean–”

“I wouldn’t want your…. nervousness, let’s call it,” Dr. Archeron hummed, emphasising the word ‘nervousness’ in a mocking way. “To get in the way of your learning. Looks like it’s my responsibility to get you to relax around me.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

She placed a finger to your lips, shushing you. “Stand up.” She ordered. You obliged, pushing the chair back and letting the cardigan fall off your arms as you stood up. The room suddenly felt much smaller as Dr. Archeron took a step towards you. Her face was inches from yours, and you could smell her sweet scent around you.

“Dr. Archeron…” You whispered, not sure what you were asking.

“Nesta.” She corrected, voice gentle. “In here, you can call me Nesta.”

“Nesta.” You said, experimenting with the sound of her name on your tongue. You had never even dreamed of calling her by her first name. In all your wildest fantasies, you had only addressed her as ‘ma’am’ or ‘professor’. Never this intimate.

She took another step closer, her lips now centimetres from yours. “If you do not want this, you may leave at any time and we will never speak of it again.” She said calmly. “I will not hold you to anything.”

“Please,” Was all your dry mouth was able to muster. Thankfully, Nesta understood what you needed, and pressed her lips to yours. 

They were the softest lips you had ever kissed, tasting like spiced red wine against your tongue as you melted into her mouth. Nesta grabbed your hands and placed them on her waist, allowing you to touch her. “Relax.” She muttered against your lips. You squeezed her hip gently, and she groaned into your mouth, pleased. 

Nesta reached up and cupped your jaw in her slender hands, deepening the kiss further. Gods, you had never been kissed like this before. The world spun around you as you eagerly opened your mouth up to her, letting her tongue explore wherever it wished. You whined when her lips eventually left yours, gasping for breath.

“Don’t pout.” She scolded, reaching down and grabbing the bottom of your tank top. “Lift up your arms.”

You did so, allowing her to pull the tank top over your head and discard it somewhere on the floor. You had opted to go braless today, leaving your breasts exposed to the warm air of the office. Wetness pooled between your legs as Nesta shamelessly drank in your topless figure, her grey eyes darkening.

“You’re going to be a good girl for me and let me take care of you.” She said huskily. “I want you to relax around me. It’s your reward for being my top student.”

You nodded, reaching to grab her waist again. You needed her closer. Nesta obliged, but walked you back until your legs hit the large green sofa, forcing you to sit down. Nesta followed suit, landing beside you and wasting no time in bringing her hands up to your breasts to squeeze as her lips attached themselves to your neck. You whimpered, arching up into her touch. Her hands were strong, kneading at the flesh of your breasts as she sucked marks on your neck that sent a tingle up your spine and heat between your legs.

“That’s it, pet.” She purred. “Let me hear those pretty noises.”

You bit your lip, worried about any lingering students or staff hearing the noises you so desperately wanted to make. Nesta sensed your hesitation and brought her mouth down to your nipple, giving it a harsh suck and causing you to cry out. “That’s more like it.” She said, satisfied. You gripped her shoulders as she worked her mouth on your breast, biting and sucking and kissing before she moved to the other one.

Without thinking, you bucked your hips in the air, yearning for some relief. Nesta released your right breast with a lewd popping noise. “Desperate already, are we?” She teased, trailing a finger down your stomach to the top of your leggings. “Normally I’d have you on your knees begging for it, since you didn’t listen to me several times today. But just this once, I’ll let it slide. You’ll learn my rules soon enough.”

You lifted your hips, granting her access to pull your leggings and panties off in one go. You were instantly naked on her couch, the slick between your legs visible. Nesta unabashedly stared down at your newly exposed pussy, licking her lips like a cat. “My, my, you’re soaked, pet. Is that all for me?” She cooed, running a finger lightly over your slit.

“Yes,” You gasped at her touch. “All for you.”

Seemingly pleased with your eager answer, Nesta kissed your lips once again, muffling your moans as she gathered your wetness on her fingers and rubbed your clit. Your body sang in response, her hand applying just enough pressure to take the edge off but not enough to push you towards the edge. You had a death grip on the couch cushion, toes curling as your fantasies unfolded before you. 

After rubbing your clit for a few minutes, Nesta harshly pushed you into the couch so you were laying down, head propped up on one and while your lower body was just at the edge. She kissed her way down your chest, then your stomach, then her lips hovered above your core. “Beg.” She demanded sternly.

“What?” You breathed heavily. “But you said–”

“I changed my mind. You make such pretty sounds. I want you to beg me to eat you out.”

“Please…” You whimpered, closing your eyes.

“Do better. And look at me while you beg.”

You opened your eyes and groaned at the sight of Nesta’s face less than an inch away from where you wanted it most. “Please, Nesta.” You begged. “Please touch me. Please eat my pussy, I’m begging. I need you, please.”

“Much better.” Nesta said before lowering her head and licking up your slit. You let out a deep moan, back arching into her touch. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around her body, pulling her closer and causing her to chuckle against you, which sent vibrations down your legs. Her golden brown hair was glowing in the light from all the different candles in the room, making her look like a goddess kneeling before you, a mere mortal in comparison. Nesta’s tongue was as skilled as it was sharp, flicking against your clit in a way that made your legs involuntarily twitch.

The room was filled with lewd slurping sounds and moans. In the back of your mind, you wondered if anyone could hear you. Surely, most staff were gone by now, having headed home for the weekend. Any remaining students would be in the other building studying for the last few hours. But you couldn’t deny that the possibility of someone hearing the noise from Nesta’s office excited you. You were a good student, never in a million years did you think that you’d be naked in a teacher’s office with your legs spread for them.

Two of Nesta’s fingers slipped inside of you, curling upwards and instantly finding that spot that made you see stars. Your hand reached down and grabbed her hair, fingers messing tangling in her perfect braid. You whimpered – her tongue and fingers felt so good, you weren’t sure how long you could hold off your climax. You wanted to stay in this moment forever, with Nesta between your legs and your head thrown back in pleasure on her couch. But that familiar tension began to build up in your stomach, and your breaths began shortening.

“That’s it, pet.” Nesta muttered against your clit, her hot breath on the bundle of nerves intensifying the pleasure. “Be a good girl for me and cum. Let yourself go.”

Minutes later, you felt your legs twitch as the coil in your abdomen finally snapped, sending your release barrelling through your body. You moaned out Nesta’s name, tightening your grip on her hair and bucking your hips into her face. The world spun around you, falling away as you got lost in your pleasure. Your clit began oversensitive beneath her mouth as she came down from your high, sending waves of fuzziness through your legs.

You panted heavily as Nesta finally pulled her lips and fingers from your cunt, opening your eyes and watching in awe as she stuck her fingers in her mouth and sucked the remaining juices off. “You taste as sweet as you look.” She purred, planting a kiss on your lips before striding over to where your clothes had been discarded. All you could do was lay there, gathering your bearings and wondering if it was all just a dream.

With a tenderness you didn’t know she possessed, Nesta helped you get dressed. She gently pulled the leggings on, and eased your arm through the armholes of the tank top while you pulled it down. Once she finished draping your cardigan over your shoulders, she stopped back, her face smug. “I expect now you’ll be less nervous around me, won’t you?” She said coolly. 

You couldn’t help but smile sheepishly. “Yes, I think so.”

Nesta folded her arms. “Good, but don’t think this gives you a free pass for anything. I still expect the best from you, whether I praise you for it or not. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled wickedly, returning to her seat at her desk and picking up a pencil, continuing her work. Save for the now messy coronet hair, she looked exactly as she had when you first walked in. “Good. Now get out of my office.”

[deliciouskeys]

Cozy Corner Domaystic prompts #16: Going through immigration and #24: Identity theft.

Guys. Guys, I’ll be honest. I have no idea what possessed me. I think I found these two prompts as some of the most challenging to imagine as a domestic fic, and… my thinking got a little bit too outside the box.

This fic will have an intended audience of about 1 (me). But I want to give major major props to @olliveolly who introduced me to this game and was the one who came up with this That’s Not My Neighbor / Boys crossover AU (with a couple lovely art pieces on the theme). The “lore” of this horror game is very simple. Tell me you don’t see it:

Butchlander. That’s Not My Neighbor crossover/AU. Rated E (why). 3.3k words (why). 2nd person to allegedly reflect the feeling of first-person gameplay (why). Is this domestic fic? Welllllll. It takes place in an apartment complex so it counts, right? Lax interpretation of ‘going through immigration’ but honestly that’s what this game really reminds me of 😂 AO3 link

Another day, another interminable shift working as the concierge in the dreary lobby of this apartment complex. It was exciting at first, sure, what with getting to play the first and last line of defense against the doppelganger monsters that attempt to sneak in every single day. But you’ve just gotten too good at noticing discrepancies. Nothing gets past you anymore. You know every single feature- hell, every single freckle! -of every single resident in the building. By this point you’ve got all their phone numbers memorized, for no better reason than there is simply too much tedium to this job. You find yourself wishing you could actually watch the D.D.D. ‘decontaminate’ the lobby, as they so euphemistically put it, instead of just sitting there twiddling your thumbs behind a pulled down rollup metal shutter after summoning them. You could still make out screams without seeing the brutality, and you knew the D.D.D. employed flame throwers and other serious weapons to deal with these monsters. Sometimes you caught yourself feeling just a little bit of sympathy for the doppelgangers, even though their main goal in life appeared to be to imitate people to blend in and then feed upon human flesh, and your main goal in life was supposed to be to ensure none of them would ever get let in through the locked inner door.

John Gillman comes in through the first door and gives you a tired, nominal wave before fishing around in his pockets for his documents to gain entry. He might be your favorite resident— always polite, always in that clean-cut milkman uniform at least when you happen to see him, because no one really leaves the apartment building outside of work obligations. There’s no nightlife in New York anymore, not with everyone nervous of dark alleys or being alone on the street, especially after dark. When you came over here from London, you certainly didn’t expect to get stuck here during a worldwide apocalyptic event like this that has resulted in curfews and lockdowns. You certainly didn’t expect to get zero action and get a mindnumbing job just to make ends meet. It was probably still more interesting than your gig working as a bouncer back in London, but at least you got fresh air there, and sometimes a date to go home with after closing time. Maybe that’s why you’ve started hyperfixating and daydreaming about one of the residents— the involuntary celibacy is getting to you.

John just always looks uncannily attractive. Maybe it’s that silly uniform that’s easy to fetishize. Maybe it’s because his tired eyes also look like bedroom eyes, or the dark circles function the same way eyeliner would. Why is he always so tired anyway? You know he lives alone up there in F03-02. He never gets any visitors either. How much can a person masturbate, really? There’s a rumor around the building that Becca Saunders’ tyke might be his, but you don’t really see the resemblance, and have your doubts that this didn’t just start as a “sleeping with the milkman” joke that got out of hand. People just like to gossip about single mothers. Things like this shouldn’t be considered scandalous. It’s 1955 for god’s sake!

“Sorry, William,” John says, hurriedly shoving his ID and entry request form underneath the glass so you can take take a look. “Almost thought I left my ID at work.”

“Long day, huh?” you ask without expecting a reply, pretending to scrutinize the documents while making small talk. You know this is John. You’d know him from a mile away. But it doesn’t mean you can’t have a little bit of fun. “Looks okay, and you are on the list of people authorized to come and go today. But can you take off your cap?”

John grabs his milkman cap off his head, exposing a mop of blond hair, looking mussed after being under the hat all day. You really wish you could test him, see how far you’d be able to take things before he refused to cooperate. Take off your shirt, John. Gotta make sure it’s really you. You never know these days. But of course you don’t. All you’ll have is your fantasies about breaching every code of ethics and using your master key to gain entrance into his apartment, seducing him, ravishing him right in the middle of what must be a depressing bachelor pad. Give him much darker undereye circles by keeping him up all night. Give this apartment complex a more interesting rumor to spread about the milkman in their midst.

“You’re good to go,” you say and press the green unlock button to let him in. He gives you a wan smile and walks out of view, and you listen to his footsteps ascending the stairs.

The rest of the afternoon is uneventful, only a few people coming and going, and a couple of doppelgängers with laughably strange appearance or bad credentials being dispatched quickly. Or at least it’s uneventful until John walks in, just a little bit past curfew.

“Hey William,” he says, sounding distracted, rummaging in his pockets for his documents as a cold sweat breaks out on your forehead. This better be a doppelganger, you think to yourself. But he has both his ID and the entry request filled out correctly. He looks identical to the John that passed by here a couple of hours earlier. This can’t be.

You start dialing John’s number, not taking your eyes off the man in front of you.

John’s eyes widen with alarm when he sees that you get an answer from the other end of the line.

“Yes, hello? John here. I’m not expecting any visitors.”

You hang up pretty abruptly, staring at the John in front of you, searching his appearance for any subtle defect or inconsistency but finding none. Your finger is hovering over the alarm button.

“Oh my god. Oh my god, you think I’m someone else? It’s me, William! I swear to god it’s me! I don’t know who you let in earlier, and who’s answering the phone now, but it’s not me up there!”

And shit, you believe him. You must have fucked up. Gotten smug and sloppy. Maybe the doppelganger handed you a fake ID but you didn’t notice because you were too busy daydreaming about fucking him.

“William, please believe me, please!” John is pressing up against the glass at this point, clearly scared that you’re going to quarantine him in the lobby and sic the D.D.D. on him. They don’t tend to ask questions. You’ve never had it happen, but you’ve heard of innocent people getting snuffed out on the mere suspicion of being doppelgangers, the D.D.D. rarely admitting to such mistakes even after the fact.

“Alright, alright, I believe you. I just have to think…” you mumble. “I’ll let you in, but don’t go up to your flat. We have to figure this out.”

John nods frantically and slips into your office after you buzz him in.

“What are you going to do?” he asks, and if you weren’t scared shitless at the moment, you’d probably get a kick out of how vulnerable and scared his expression is compared to his usual tired, impassive one.

“I should call the D.D.D. and get them to go up there,” you think out loud.

“Won’t you get reprimanded?” John asks, and oh how sweet of him to worry about your job when you’ve fucked up so royally and almost gotten him killed with your negligence. Maybe already gotten some of his neighbors killed.

“I just don’t want you losing your job over this— you’re the best concierge we have,” he says and then looks down shyly, as if realizing how strange that concern is.

What is this? Are you dreaming? Maybe you’re just out of your mind with adrenaline, but John sounds like he’s got feelings for you.

“Let’s just go up there and see what’s going on,” he says, and damn he’s persuasive as fuck. You want to go and deal with the mess you made, and protect him.

“I’ll go up there and just check,” you say, hardly believing yourself as you grab the fire extinguisher from the wall as a makeshift weapon. Everyone who was scheduled to return to the building has, so you shouldn’t get any more legitimate people coming through, but you still tape up a note that you’ll be back at your post in a few minutes. “Right then. You just stay down here and wait. I don’t want you putting yourself at risk. If I’m not back in five, call the number on the post-it.”

John shakes his head and follows you up the stairs. “I’m not letting you go up there alone,” he says in that quiet irresistible voice and you start to wonder if there’s something strange going on. Why are you going on this potentially suicidal mission to deal with a doppelganger on your own? So what if you get fired? No job is worth your life, right? But you probably wouldn’t see John ever again if you lost this job and that’s clouding all your judgment right now.

Knocking on John’s apartment door is probably not a good idea, and will just give the monster inside time to prepare or hide. So you take out your master key and turn it in the lock as quietly and quickly as you can. The door swings opens with an ominous creak, revealing a dark living room with no sign of anyone there. Did he hear you coming up the stairs? You try to keep John behind you and shield him in case anything sudden happens from within the apartment, but then you feel a strong push from behind and both you and John are in the flat now.

You’re so stupid, so critically, fatally stupid. The John you let in earlier was the real one. You’ve let a doppelganger convince you that you made a mistake, and now you did let one in. You whirl around, try to hit him upside the head with the fire extinguisher you’re brandishing, but he blocks the move with little effort.

“I thought we agreed,” he says, and you realize he’s speaking not to you but past you to someone else in the room.

“Thursdays are my days,” an identical voice answers from behind you and you step back and try to make sense of what you’re seeing. Two John Gillmans, both in the same uniform, neither one looking the least bit spooked, both looking mildly irritated if anything.

“Since when,” the John who came up behind you asks of the other one. “I get to be here every other day, doesn’t matter what day of the week it is.”

“So now what are we going to do about him?” the John who was in the apartment asks, pointing to you. “Why didn’t you just leave once he called me? Are you stupid?”

Your heart may be racing, but your thinking feels as slow as molasses. They’re …. both doppelgangers?

“What have you done with the real John Gillman?” you whisper hoarsely. The twins turn to look at you and you’re creeped out by the very similar smirk that spreads across both of their faces. They’re really impeccable facsimiles of the real person, but this is an expression you’ve never seen on John.

“You’ve never met the ‘real John Gillman’,” one of them says.

There’s enough cold sweat that’s broken out on your back that it starts to trickle down as drops.

“We like you William. It would be such a shame for our friendship to end.”

You hold up the fire extinguisher in front of yourself defensively, but you’re not sure you can really do anything against two of them. You’ve never noticed before, and maybe the real John’s teeth didn’t look like this, but the two doppelgangers have sharp looking canines when they’re grinning. It’ll serve you right to get devoured in this dark flat for making so many mistakes and bad decisions in a row today.

“So you’re just going to kill me then?” you ask.

“We’d really rather not,” one of the twins says. “A murder would bring a lot of snooping law enforcement if not the D.D.D. Itself.”

“And it’s so hard to find good lodging to spend the night.”

They must be joking. “You really expect me to believe you’re not just here to eat people?”

One of the twins rolls his eyes. “Eat people! Yeah, that’s why we’re here, clearly.”

“Has anyone in this apartment building ever disappeared in all the months you’ve worked here?” the other one asks.

“How should I know?” You’re beginning to feel like this has to be some sick nightmare. You can’t possibly be having a civil conversation with a couple of cannibal monsters. This thought has a strange calming effect on you. “If I didn’t know you lot were masquerading as John Gillman, how am I to know how many other residents are real people?”

The twins turn to each other, still smiling and shrugging.

“We’ve been on a vegetarian diet for a while,” the other says and you can’t help but bark out a laugh.

“Laugh all you want,” the other one says, spreading his hands in concession. “But milk is more than enough to sustain us. We do think people are delicious, but there’s one thing we like much more than eating them.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, emboldened by the possibility that you’re just in a ridiculous, paranoid, bad dream of a worst case scenario at your job.

“We’ve been watching you William. We think you’ve been interested in us.”

“We’ve never fucked anyone from this building, and never fucked together, but there’s a first time for everything, right?”

You just stand there, fire extinguisher still raised up defensively. No question about it, this must be a nightmare that’s slowly but surely twisting itself into a sexual fantasy.

“Come on, William. Let’s make you comfortable.”

You can hardly protest as one gently pulls your makeshift weapon out of your loose grip, and the other one sweeps you off your feet with preternatural superhuman ease and carries you over to the couch in this sparsely furnished apartment.

Gentle but insistent hands undo the buttons on your trousers and then maneuver you so they can pull them off completely and free your legs.

“Humans are such fun creatures,” one of the Johns comments when he sees that despite your fear of the situation unfolding right now, you are sporting a half-hearted hard-on. It somehow only gets harder when you hear them talk about people as another species.

Both Johns are still fully dressed, situating themselves to kneel on the floor on either side of you. It’s wild. You must be dreaming. And as you watch both Johns lean forward, extending their tongues and licking your cock up and down from opposite sides, you realize that if this is a dream, you never want to wake up.

They know what they’re doing. They bring you right up to the edge of orgasm and then pull away, leaving you feeling desperate and even annoyed. You’re not annoyed for long though as they both strip down, and you see that their human-mimicking powers are perfect, down to the most minute details that would never be seen under clothes. Granted, you don’t know what John Gillman looked like naked, so maybe they’ve taken artistic license and embellished. Whatever it is, they’ve compared notes, because they still look indistinguishable to you.

“Like what you see?” one of them asks and you realize you I’ve been staring, maybe even with your mouth hanging open. You never imagined you’d hook up with a doppelganger, let alone two of them at once. But you have imagined foisting yourself on John in this very flat, and you’re about to live that daydream.

You end up doing things with the two of them beyond what you’ve ever dreamed of. You fuck one of them, and at the same time get fucked by the other one from behind, the cheap bed’s metal joints creaking and moaning from the motion of three bodies rocking against each other. You let them suck your cock and rim you to get you back in the mood for another round, trying not to think about how unsettlingly hungry they both look, and who they really are underneath the human-looking exterior. The exterior slips periodically when they’re in the throes of pleasure. You wince when they betray just how strong they really are, whenever they flip you over or change positions, as if you weigh nothing. You try not to pay attention when their eyes start glowing red when they’re particularly turned on, but it’s impossible to ignore in the darkness of the bedroom.

“William, you are fucking delicious,” one of them declares, licking his lips obscenely after swallowing down your cum, and all you can do is emit a short nervous chuckle, and think that even if they do decide to eat you at the end of all of this— either to cover their tracks, or just because they might start feeling peckish after all this is over— it will still have been worth it.

You don’t get eaten. In fact, you’ve had the time of your life, and as you get up from the bed and mumble that you have to get back to your post before your shift is over, the two Johns lie languid, naked on the bed watching you, each enjoying a post coital glass of milk (that’s all they have in the fridge— you saw when they opened it), like perfect mirror images.

“You won’t be making any unnecessary phone calls, right William?”

“We can count on you to be discreet and keep a secret, right?”

Through the combined haze of being scared for your life and then having the time of your life, there’s still one thing that bothers you, and you ask about it, against all your best self-preservation instincts.

“So what have you done with the real John Gillman?”

They turn to look at each other, not exactly conspiratorial but it still makes you uneasy.

“Oh, John Gillman never existed. We’ve been around a lot longer than you humans think. Many of us never tried to replicate and replace real humans.”

“Yeah, and a lot of good that did when some of us started! The ones who are doing it are the reason we’re being hunted now. Unoriginal hacks. And so bad at mimicking too.”

“So many embarrassing ones out there.” They both nod at each other.

You’d like to believe them. You really would. “So why choose this persona?”

“The milkman gets free milk and gets around in your society! And humans seem to like this look,” one of them says, grinning and gesturing with his hand over their naked bodies.

“But we only ever get to enjoy bored housewives.”

“And why are there two of you?” you ask hesitantly, glancing at the clock on the wall to verify that you’re not late yet.

“Oh there’s more than two of us,” one of them says and they laugh in unison in a way that sends a chill down your spine.

~~~

You think you’ve got it all worked out. You’re letting the John Gillmans stay in the apartment undisturbed, and you let them through even when it’s obvious that there’s more than one of them coming and going. You figure it’s a win-win. They promise to protect the building from any rogue doppelgangers who infiltrate and intend to harm the residents, and in return get a place to stay the night peacefully. You get to visit apartment F03-02 after your shift ends and have mind-blowing sex. They seem to enjoy the orgies as well. They know your shift hours and try to only come and go during those times. There doesn’t seem to be a problem with this arrangement.

Or at least not a problem that you’re going to make into your problem. When one of the Johns walks in, visibly smeared in blood, you do give him a hard time.

“Come on, John. Just because I’ll let you in, doesn’t mean you can just stop trying to look decent. God forbid I call in sick and someone else is here.”

John shrugs and goes through the formality of pushing his ID and entry request under the glass window.

“And get a new ID…” you tell him when you see bloody fingerprints all over the worn paper.

John shrugs, doing his usual tired act, despite how ridiculous it looks to be so bored and nonchalant when he’s smeared in blood.

“Whose blood is that, anyway?” you ask, wondering why you’re not more disturbed.

“Someone who was of no consequence and who won’t be missed,” John replies, terse and cool as a cucumber.

“I thought you said you were vegetarian?”

“I’ll take a cheat day if I run into a wifebeater,” John says, shrugging.

You buzz him in, telling him to get washed up before someone sees him, wondering if you’re being colossally naive to believe his story, and wondering if you’ve got a death wish because you’re still looking forward to going up there once your shift ends in a few hours.

(What in the world. 💀)

ETA: now with another art piece by @olliveolly

[qwertyprophecy]

Update on The Dark Queen of Mortholme!

Phase one is now essentially completed for art, code and dialogue. Onwards to phase two; because every good boss fight needs that part where the boss gets unhinged and gains a whole new set of attacks.

I too have chosen to be unhinged and made a design for the Queen's final form that gobbles up animation work hours like nothing I've done before with pixel art.

Concept sketches under the cut:

Initially I didn't have any ideas beyond doing a more monstrous design that amps up the Queen's features and takes cues from the shapes and colours of her original spell animations. However after writing the dialogue leading up to the transformation I immediately landed on a specific concept.

The transformation is an outburst. It's a manifestation of the Queen's terror and defiance towards her approaching death. She's unraveling, and in doing so she's channeling more of her innate violent power that she doesn't usually let out. She's essentially been having a long argument with the Hero about who they believe they are. Thus far she's gotten by being all smug and detached, but now she's losing and forced to reveal more of her true self to continue.

So her final form's design should convey 1. an outburst, and 2. the unraveling of a false front. Her base design's spikes, hair and skirt all erupt out into the wilder shape language of her shadowy spell-tendrils. They can handily be used to draw the eye from all directions towards the center of her chest, where I wanted to have this cracking pattern, like something hidden inside her is coming out. It's bright as if blindingly powerful, yet the cracks make her seem more damaged and vulnerable than her base form.

Continuing with the theme of an inner self showing through, the skirt's interior is also more visible than before. The flared jellyfish-esque shape connects with the deep sea vibe of the tentacles and contributes to the drama of a nonhuman silhouette.

A big thing for the silhouette is of course the massive hands. What's the thematic explanation for those? Absolutely nothing, I just think they look cool and dangerous.

Finally, lot of asymmetry was also introduced, both to increase the visual interest of such a large sprite, and to make her look like she's really losing it.

---

A note on animating this monstrosity: I've been trying to come up with a whole lot of cheats to keep a complex sprite like this as animated as possible without spending the rest of my life making this game. Early on I decided she should float, just so her idle animation can also be a moving one.

Secondly, the sprite is cut up to pieces so that I can keep reusing the loop of the writhing tentacles while moving her hands, for example. This is not something I like doing because in believable animation, motion in one part of the body always affects the other parts of the body. Treating a character as one entire whole when animating will make them feel more tangible, but alas, it's a compromise to avoid spending a hundred years in pixel-pushing jail. Like, I would love to see those tendrils flutter around behind her as she swoops across the room for her attacks, but... it'll be a lot more reasonable to move her as little as possible and instead add oomph to her attacks with some effects animations.

Anyways thank you for reading about monstrosity, she might be a pain in the butt to move but she brings me joy

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

This week, we have eleven fics that feature Caleb, Essek, and at least one other person involved! Look behind the cut for some Shadowidomauk, some Blumenshadow, some Fjord/Essek/Caleb and more!

amongst the things left unforgiven by nonwal (63958, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

“In which a pair of scourgers shows up at Essek’s doorstep and saves him from himself.“ Slow-burn blumenshadow featuring heavy mistrust, mind games that aren’t mind games, and Caleb mostly in the background thinking he doesn’t deserve to be loved.

Reccer says: One of my all time faves. Nonwal’s gorgeous prose and characterization of these 4 is always top notch, but the dialogue?! The spy vs. spy mind games? The poetic descriptions of longing and grief? The visceral feeling of constant low-level panic punctuated by a full panic attack and maybe developing a crush on your current crush’s evil exes? The DIALOGUE (again)?!?! Absolutely stunning. Side note: chapter 4 features the best Jester dialogue I have ever read. The tag “openly declaring your mutual distrust can be a love language if you do it right” says so much and I love it.

Happily Ever Laughter by Settiai (1288, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: Veth’s alcoholism is brought up a few times but isn’t the focus.

Adorable Essek/Caleb/Veth/Yeza slice of life fic. Polyamory is not nearly as difficult as trying to teach a hyperactive 6 year old magic can be.

Reccer says: Incredibly sweet little domestic fic. The rapport between them is so soft and gentle and well-worn like the most comfortable pair of old house slippers. The moments where Yeza and Caleb glance at each other and manage to communicate in absolute silence (in that pseudo-telepathic way that some real parenting couples often do) are just so perfect, and Veth still finding Essek somewhat aggravating even while she loves him is :chefskiss: delightful.

Three’s Company by flammablehat (2074, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Caleb, Essek, and Fjord have a threesome, and Essek is maybe more than a little jealous about it.

Reccer says: Possessek is always a favorite! Fjord is fjeisty, and Caleb is having the time of his life. It’s both hot and tense.

altogether, infinite possibilities by ivelostmyspectacles (199305, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek has barely begun to cement his place in Caleb’s life when they bring Mollymauk Tealeaf back from the dead. Slowly, the three of them adapt together.

Reccer says: First part of a series! This was my entry point into Shadowgast!

in the pieces of what's left or what we've found by SeaWitchDreams (14620, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Astrid takes some time to figure out how she wants to rebuild her life (and who she wants to rebuild it with.)

Reccer says: a wonderfully subtle and contemplative character study, featuring four wizards carefully dancing around each other

the sea, the stars, the dreamers by nonwal (111996, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: suicidal ideation

Essek sacrifices his budding relationship with Caleb to marry Archmage Astrid Beck - for the good of the entire galaxy. But whatever Astrid's reason for marrying him is, is not nearly as noble.

Reccer says: This fic takes an unusual premise (Blumenshadow arranged marriage spaceship murder mystery with sea shanties?) and *commits* to it. Still incomplete, but if you've liked this author's other works, you won't regret taking a chance on this one.

(Oh,) How a Human Burns by witches_chant (18318, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

This is a story about Essek trying to prepare for eventual loss, depending on if Caleb wants to use the Clone spell or not. But it’s also a story about a lazy, sexy vacation on Rumblecusp where the couple stumble upon a service top and learn things about their relationship (with a happy ending!).

Reccer says: It’s both hot as hell AND feelsy! It’s a really interesting take on Caleb & Essek’s relationship. Honestly I recommend the entire series.

Victim of Convenience by se1ze (54243, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek and Caleb are together, Essek and Kingsley get together, and Kingsley is losing his mind because Caleb can’t get his shit together. An exploration of the very complicated feelings that crop up when a) no one seems to understand who you are, and b) someone you love thinks they need to stay gone for your own good.

Reccer says: The dialogue is fantastic, the sex is wonderful, and the hurt/comfort is amazing. It establishes the foundation upon which Essek/Kingsley can be a thing in a way that is both endearing and completely believable. Caleb is oblivious to how much Kingsley loves him, and once again hurts those around him by throwing himself on his sword.

(nothing in my bones can say) just where you’ve been by SaltCore (8216, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

It takes more time than Caleb realized to get home from the Hellcatch Valley, and in his absence, Essek’s tentative alliance with Astrid and Eadwulf has grown to something more.

Reccer says: Soft and complicated and briefly heartbreaking. The way it manages to feel like an outsider POV reinforces the sense of missing time, of having missed a massive change, and the softness and warmth of everyone’s love for each other is palpable throughout even in the most tense and anxious of moments.

i'll meet judgement by the hounds by necromanticomedy (yelenavasilyevna) (6553, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Dubcon/Consensual Non Consent, knifeplay

Astrid and Eadwulf come to a dinner party to meet Essek Thelyss. Things either go very poorly or very well, depending on your definitions.

Reccer says: the author called it a "insane psychosexual foursome" but neglected to mention that it's the best insane psychosexual foursome you'll ever read

To The Bone by thetickingclock (2919, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Snapshots of Astrid and Eadwulf's opinion of Essek changing over time (and proximity to Caleb Widogast.)

Reccer says: Hits all my favorite notes when it comes to Blumenshadow, and there's an astounding amount of characterization and relationship development packed into less than 3k words.

Aeor is for Lovers is an 18+ Shadowgast Discord server. The above fanfic recommendations were pulled from our community for this weekly event. All fics, unless otherwise specified, will primarily feature Shadowgast. Have any questions about what this is? Check out the FAQ! Next week, we’ll be back with Lifespan Angst!

[valakiir]

So i was looking at the official moorbounder art and it's starting to bug me. It's a really cool design, don't get me wrong, i do like it, but the length / positioning of the tusks just seemed off to me for some reason. I think i finally figured out why!

(Official art above)

((The biologist in me is speaking now, prepare for me to dive into the practicalities of dnd monsters))

The moorbounder's tusks arc up and back, appearing to grow from the lower jaw. They seem to spiral a little like ram horns imo. Looking at them, trying to infer what their purpose is, there are a couple options. The curve of the tusk means it doesnt work well as a cutting or holding feature -- the tips are pointed too far back and around bc of the spiral shape. Assuming they are like ram horns, they could be used similarly in territorial fights. They could also be used, in a similar vein, to bludgeon opponents with the side of their heads. Again the curve of the tusk means it wont pierce anything in front of it. It would be difficult to pierce /anything/ with them.

My second thought was that they were used for defence. Looking at where that curve places the tusk in relation to the rest of the head, it could easily function as protection for the eyes (this could also be why their pupils are such a unique shape -- to avoid having a massive blind spot on the sides of their heads). Moorbounder eyes, looking at them now, are not actually placed forward on the head, the norm of ground predators (birds of prey have their own reasons behind their anatomy). This means they are likely not the top of the food chain -- even that they have a different creature predating frequently on them that they need to watch for. The small ears imply they do not rely heavily on hearing (they have little to help funnel noise into the ear canal), so im going to make the assumption they rely primarily on scent to hunt -- but this is getting off topic. The lack of large ears may also have developed due to their agressive nature -- less skin to get caught or torn in a fight. The tusks might be a large enough curve to protect the ears, even. It is difficult to tell exactly from the art. Another point toward the tusks acting as a guard for the sides of the head.

Another option is that they are used to attract mates. Natural selection just encouraging larger tusks until we have what is shown in the art.

This is not what bothers me. The problem I have is how far the tusks extend /forward/. From what I can tell, the forward curve of the tusks reach about the tip of the nose. This is another hint that they might be used in a forward bludgeoning motion, however there is a problem with this. How are they supposed to bite? The tusks would press against anything the moorbounder is reaching for and hold it away. There are long whiskers extending from the nose, I'm assuming, with great confidence, to feel past those tusks.

My theory is that the curve of those tusks, while /natural/, is not actually observed in wild moorbounders. My guess is while those tusks grow continuously throughout the moorbounder's life, they are worn down through use. Captive moorbounders would likely not have to grind down on bone or protective plating -- their food is provided for them. Nor would there be any need to, say, mark territory by scratching the tusks against trees or other landmarks. If this is the case, wild moorbounders would have much shorter tusks, tusks that would actually be useful in biting, cutting, and holding. Moorbounders are agressive enough, filing their tusks down would be very difficult -- down right dangerous -- and because they are used primarily as mounts, not pit-fighters, the chore is easier neglected.

Another option, of course, is that the full curve of the tusks is a mark of age, and only seen in captivity because moorbounders don't live that long in the wild. This would be because it gets more and more difficult to catch prey as the tusks grow. The oldest moorbounders would essentially die of starvation. This means they live /much/ longer in captivity.

Yet another possibility is that the tusks are not teeth or horn -- they are like antlers. If those large tusks are grown and shed in a mating season when they are most aggressive, it would make sense that they would want to protect the head. It means moorbounders would not be able to eat during that period of time, but this is not unheard of in nature.

If the tusks grow from the upper jaw, this whole arguement is rendered largely irrelevant btw, and i will hide in my corner in embarrassment if that was actually addressed. They would still be inconvenient, but not prohibitive.

Overall, i am of the opinion wild moorbounder tusks are much shorter due to use, and irresponsible ownership is the reason we see the large curving tusks in the official art.

I appreciate you coming to my TED talk.

[bonzos-number-1-fan]

TMAGP 17 Thoughts: Hyde and Seek

Another really great episode. Of all the episodes thus far I think this one is the grandest in scope in terms of the series as a whole. It's opened up some very large topics.

Spoilers for episode 17, and light spoilers for TMA, below the cut.

First things first, Celia is blacking out and waking up in strange places again. A lot of reasons why this could be but as I believe I mentioned for TMAGP 11 Thoughts I thought the side-effects of dimension-hopping was a possibility. Given what this episode is about I think it's at least trying to imply a connection if not outright stating one.

Celia missed the date because blackouts but interestingly enough she didn't lie during this exchange. At least assumption I didn't miss any distortions, and those distortions are for lies. Anyway this was all very sweet and mushy but does have a pertinent detail. Celia was on her way to Oxford, a location prominently featured in the incident. Whether that's related of just some nice narrative symmetry remains to be seen, but we do see it's at least intentional.

The incident itself is our second Magnus statement. It's a really really good statement too. One of my favourites of the series so far, if not my favourite. It opens with a similar format to the last one and again mentions subject/agent/catalyst viability. All low. Then we get a mention of Welling Mutare Materia and "Mutare Materia" is something like "Changing Matter" and it's hard not to see the alchemic allusion in that. The set up is a, as yet unnamed, patient receiving therapy for anger issues. But that's probably the least interesting thing about this entire scene.

The most interesting thing is the thing everyone is collectively screaming about.

Anyway, there was a new receptionist behind the old front desk, some big, soft looking guy who stumbled over every word... ...There was another patient too, some bookish-looking guy with serious city miles. I used to play the game “what are you in for” where I would pass the time guessing… well, you know. In my head he was definitely some kind of weird pervert, really into stroking orchids or something.

I'm not going to get too into why those descriptions are important. If you know you know and I don't need to tell you. If you don't I'd rather not. Although I will say that it's very obvious that second one is who we all think it is. Or it's at least what we're meant to think. Alex wrote this episode and "some kind of weird pervert, really into stroking orchids" is the kind of insult you know he's revel in writing for a character like this. It also implies a lot, or absolutely nothing. Because it could be coincidence. It could be that they are responsible for the whole thing. It could just be setting the stage for what's to come. Which is what I think this is. It's an episode about interdimensional travel and it's just prepping the audience to know that's a thing that can happen. Reminding us who it could happen to. As if we've forgotten.

The patient meditates and then a lot of time seems to pass. A lot a lot. Interdimensional travel always involves time fuckery. What's interesting about it is that it doesn't ever seem to work the same way twice. Anya was a week or so, Celia was years, and this guy seemingly just sat there for weeks instead of moving in time like the others have appeared to. The methodology of this is also new where there wasn't any gap between walks to slip through, he stayed still the whole time and then woke up somewhere different. However when he meets this universe's version of himself there doesn't seem to be any significant time slip to mention. Dates in their lives don't line up quite right, which is expected, but he doesn't appeared to have travelled in time in any major way.

This does all take place in Oxford. Which is where Hilltop Road is but it doesn't appear as if the patient was at Hilltop Road for this. As we've seen previously with Hilltop it doesn't look like it works as it does in TMA here. It does seem like the Magnus Institute is monitoring Oxford for these types of events though, even if they're not happening in quite the same place. If that is the case it could also be the case that they're sending things back too. Hell, Dr. Dumfries could be in on it and sending the Institute lab rats.

I'm going to skip over most of the meat of this statement. It was really well done but really quite explicit and as such there isn't a lot for me to dig into. I don't want to explain to you what you just listened to when it's all pretty plain. But it was really great and I do want to mention that.

We do learn that his name is Darrien. The other Darrien is also Darrien. And that makes this episode the introduction of our second and third Darrien. Futures also had a Darrien who was also kind of a twat. Which is interesting. Firstly because TMA has a habit of naming characters similar names and it never meant anything. People just had similar names because people have similar names sometimes. However, our beloved Norris used to be called Neil in the pilot. But Neil is now Norris because there was another Neil. Which means one of two things to me, either Darrien, Darrien, and Darrien, are all Darrien because it's vitally important. Or Alex is fucking with up. Because it's Alex it could as likely be either.

Last thing to mention I do love how this one ends. Darrien is so sure of himself and how protected he is but we know he's locked up in a research prison from the jump. The Institute is also clearly larger than it was in TMA. More resources, more pull, more power. Love getting to see all those details bit by bit.

Interesting note here: Harcourt House isn't the Harcourt House that I think most people will have looked up on Google. This isn't in London, it's in Oxford. This is Stanton Harcourt. Which has some reputation for hauntings and cursed romances. Totally not relevant for anything going on in this episode. No sir.

Celia thanking Freddy/Chester is also interesting. She's obviously more aware of everything than the rest of the team is, and she's got history with those voices, but she's also the first to really acknowledge how pointed these incidents are. There is a very consistent theme of incidents connecting to the teams current situation or desires. I hope we get to see more of this from her where she's more aware that there a personality at play rather than just a voice.

We cap off with a lovely bit of banter between Alice and Gwen where they almost don't try to kill each other. It was very sweet. And obviously an episode with all this going on couldn't leave out a good ol' .jmj error to really hammer it home.

Also, Colin's not dead. Maybe.

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

Incident/CAT#R#DPHW Master Sheet and Terminology Sheet

Klaus Watch: We're back with a very exciting Klaus Watch. Row 20 has CAT2RC1147 and no date, location, or notes. I lied about it being exciting.

DPHW Theory: 1147 is interesting. Because crosslinks do seem to impact DPHWs based on the two Bonzo episodes but Mascot (Kids) -/- Murder was at 2275. Which implies that Mascot (Kids) has 2 in Death and Pain as default and that Murder doesn't increase those values. It does seem to increase Helplessness though which is something that makes a good deal of sense at least.

CAT# Theory: CAT2 is very CAT2. While it fits with the most popular theory, well enough at least, I just wrote an essay entitled Putting the CAT# Back in the Bag: The Flaws With Person/Place/Object if anyone is interested.

R# Theory: C is inline with my ideas. Very easy to discount this as entirely fiction.

Header talk: Doppleganger (Interdimensional) -/- Murder is a very interesting one. These are all existing categories so interdimensional doubles are things the OIAR have dealt with in the past. So dimension hoppers aren't anything new and with everything that's happened this episode I think we're going to see a lot more of it, and characters that are a lot more knowledgeable about it than our protagonists.