#but at the very least it could be a really interesting fic or book jumping off from canon here

[ohdeerfully]

Hi,

I was wondering if I could request a story. Alastor x reader although they’re more friends at the beginning. And something thats probably not canon.

The reader is doing research for the hotel trying to find proof that souls can be redeemed. In her search she stumbles across newspaper archives about the Louisiana killer. Knowing that its Alastor she becomes interested and through more digging she discovers that his victims were actually all criminals ie rapists, drug dealers etc. She prints some of the info out (I don’t know why) and then back at the hotel she accidentally drops some of the papers and Alastor sees them. I’m not sure where to go from here, I want Alastor to get a bit angry but reader assures him that his secret is safe with them.

I know its long I’m sooorrry! Let me know what you think.

💙💙

heyyy!! thank u for the request sorry it took literal ages to touch...this short fic contains NO ROMANCE sorry alastor lovers. but i hope you still enjoy!

Silence Your Soul

Alastor x Reader (platonic) TW: nothing specific? alastor is a jerk but whos surprised. hazbin typical crimes

masterlist join my discord!

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After Charlie gave you a second chance at her hotel, saving you from the streets in the city of Pride, you were nothing but devoted to her cause. Offering her a hand in trying to prove that the damned can be forgiven and offered a spot in Heaven was the least you could do—although it wasn’t easy.

It was a late evening when you found yourself in an unkempt library at the edge of the city, only tended by a single employee that probably hasn’t seen a soul in weeks. Her excitement upon your arrival made you feel bad, seeing her nearly jump out of her chair as she greeted you made her loneliness awkwardly obvious. You exchanged pleasantries before meandering through the dusty aisles.

You had given yourself a challenge that you weren’t even sure was possible to complete; it seemed more so just busy work to keep you from getting bored at the hotel. Finding proof of redemption for one of Hell’s most prolific Overlords was crazy work, but you assumed if it was possible then virtually any other demon could be forgiven.

Fingers trailed over the spines of historical books and biographies, pursing your lips as you searched the overwhelming amount of titles at your disposal. As rundown as this library was, you would guess it had the inventory of hundreds of ordinary libraries you’d typically find while alive. It didn’t help that you really didn’t have a starting point—you had no clue if you’d even find anything written on Alastor. You only had a vague idea that he was a murderer in Louisiana.

By tedious preservation you eventually managed to find a biography very succinctly titled “Alastor - New Orleans Terror.” You clasped your hands together and raised it to the sky in relief before grabbing the dusty cover and bringing it to the front of the library. After a brief conversation and being asked to sign up for a library card—although more often than not books were never returned—you were on your way back to the hotel.

Charlie had provided you with a little office to do your work in, a small gesture as thanks for your dedication to her idea. You locked your office door and sat down at your desk, pulling a packet of sticky notes and a few pens closer before opening the biography on the resident Radio Demon.

A few hours later, around midnight, you decided to call it for the day with a hefty slam to the book cover. You pushed your chair away from the desk and stretched your arms above your head, bending your back over the head of the chair until a satisfying series of cracks went up your spine. You slumped back down and began to tidy up your area.

The book had a littering of tabs sticking out of the pages, numbered to follow the bullet pointed notes you wrote down on a few sheets of paper. You were pleasantly surprised with what you found out about Alastor, although now you weren’t sure how it would help Charlie’s case in proving all souls can be redeemed. Murder is bad, yes, undoubtedly, but a strong case could be made for Alastor regarding who and why he killed. His reasonings were rather… kind? Somehow? As kind as murder can be.

You tucked the loose pages into the back of the book, holding it firmly to keep all your notes contained. You clicked off your lamp, stood up, pushed your chair back under the desk, and left your office.

Investigators at the scenes of his murders always drew to a similar conclusion—his victims were often rapists, abusers, and two were even politicians with links to trafficking operations. Murder… could be forgiven in this case, right? Of course, Alastor is in Hell for a reason, he’s actually insane and extremely manipulative, but his reasonings for the actual crimes he committed were—

Your thoughts were cut off as you rounded the corner and full body slammed into the man of the hour himself. Shit, how did you not sense his presence? Or, better, how did he not sense yours?

The book in your hand flew almost comically a few paces away, pages scattering out and landing in a messy halo around the book. You took a few stumbling steps backwards, hand pressed against your nose, aching from the impact. Your eyes were blurred with pained tears as you lifted your gaze to Alastor’s smiling expression.

“Hey, shit, I’m sorry,” You said quickly, blinking the haze out of your eyes as you dropped your hand from your face. You began walking towards the book. “I should’ve been paying more attention.”

Alastor was faster, beating you to the mess with his much larger stride. “No worries at all, my dear!” He said all too cheerfully for it being the middle of the night. “Awareness goes both ways after all!”

He hummed as he bent over, swooping up the biography with his name plastered grandly on the front. His shit eating grin somehow doubled as he looked back at you, his long index finger tapping on the cover. 

“A fan?”

“Hardly,” You rolled your eyes, playing a bit coy to counter his confidence. “Just picked it up at the library. Since I work for Charlie I figured I could learn a bit about our more famous residents.” 

Your act didn’t seem to put a damper on his cheer as he briefly thumbed through the biography, but it didn’t take long for him to notice the numbered sticky notes. His red eyes casted towards you before looking down at the similarly numbered sheets of paper by his feet. You sucked in a breath before gritting your teeth. You could probably explain yourself through this if you thought fast enough. 

He knelt and gathered the pages, placing the book down so he could use both hands to shuffle through the papers. You waited, tense, as his eyes scanned your notes. As painfully quiet moments passed, you saw his brows furrow and grin grow tighter.

When he looked back at you, his expression remained calm, but you could tell by the harsher prickling of static on your skin that he was frustrated. 

“While I’m quite pleased to see someone so interested in my living affairs,” He said rather forcefully as he stood, papers still gripped tightly in one hand. “This extensive meddling is rather annoying. What was it they said about… that one curious cat?”

The air grew a bit dangerous with his words as his voice dripped with venomous radio static. You were frozen in place, thoughts flying in every possible direction for words to calm the Overlord.

“H-hey, I’m just working for Charlie, you know, like I said earlier,” Your explanation came in an embarrassing stutter. You figured you may as well just tell the truth, although leaving out the part that you chose to research him. Of course, maybe it would butter him up enough to let you go if you told him how interesting you found him and his previous life; you chose to keep your dignity for now.

“Well, I ask you to leave me out of it,” He responded quickly, and you knew he wasn’t really asking. You nodded feverishly, promising to obey and reaching for the papers in his hand. He tutted before moving his hand away.

“I assume you’ve dedicated quite some time to this research, no?” He mused, waving the stack of pages tantalizingly just out of your reach. You sighed in defeat, hand falling to your side. 

“Yeah, a bit,” You admitted, folding your arms. He laughed for a moment and then you saw a green aura emanate from his palm before a burst of flame consumed the papers. Your mouth twisted into a frown as you watched green-tipped embers of your hard work sizzle into nothing on the red carpet below.

“Well! Then that’s far too much sensitive information on my history, so better it to be gone,” He explained, patting his hands together to rid them of any remaining debris. His eyes then turned to the book, swiftly picking it back up.

“Such a fine piece of literature, really,” He sighed dreamily, theatrically tracing a finger over his own name. It almost made you sneer—what a self-absorbed prick. Then, that same green aura lit in his hand. “Shame it has to go.”

“Wait, wait, wait, that’s not mine, I need to give it back to—” A whoosh of bright flame cut off your pleas, and you groaned in aggravation as shards of the book crumpled by his feet. You watched in helpless defeat as Alastor burned any remaining bridges to his living history. Perhaps that book managed to slip under his nose all these years as he built up his title as an Overlord. Now you had the awkward chore of trying to explain to the librarian why you can’t return her book.

“So…” Shit, that ominous tone in his voice was back as he met your gaze. You couldn’t handle the eye contact, so you swiftly looked to the side, down the hall, in meager hopes that anybody could interrupt this scene and save your sorry ass.

“All that remains, my dear, is you,” He stepped closer, and you similarly stepped backwards. The air in the room suddenly felt too heavy, the lighting too dark. Were you crazy, or were the shadows in the corners stretching towards you?

“I can’t have you running around Hell, whispering my secrets into the ears of the unworthy majority, right? No… that wouldn’t do at all,” Another step forward from him, another back for you. This continued for a few steps before your back hit a wall, sending a freezing chill down your spine. You knew running would only enhance his drive to strike you down, so you remained stuck in place. 

The antlers on his head seemed to expand and grow sharper as he reached a hand towards you. You squeezed your eyes shut and grit your teeth. If anything, you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hearing your screams. 

The burn of flames never touched your skin, nor did the sting of tearing flesh. You cracked open your eyes, and saw that his arm hovered only a foot away from you, palm turned upwards. His piercing red eyes bore into your own, never leaving even when you struggled to meet his gaze.

“Unfortunately for me, maybe fortunately for you, Charlie is very fond of you,” He sighed dramatically. “But, still, I can’t have you walking freely around knowing what you know. You are now the last source of my history. So…”

His hand nudged, regaining your attention. You swallowed a lump in your throat, adrenaline still pumping through your entire body and creating an uncomfortable pounding in your head.

“My soul..?” 

Alastor’s eyes rolled before his grin curled maliciously. “Well, obviously, how else will I keep you from opening that mouth of yours?”

Your fingers instinctively reached towards your chest, toying with the fabric of your shirt. Was it really worth it?

“I don’t know how much of an incentive you need here, my dear,” He laughed, although his tone gave away his slight impatience. “You give me your soul and your silence, and I give you… your pitiful life. Hm. Sounds fair to me!” 

You chewed on your cheek. Man, fuck it, you didn’t really want to risk finding out if Charlie’s friendship was truly enough to keep Alastor from killing you. Your hand shot forward before you could give yourself any more time to ponder—or, any more time for Alastor to lose his patience and change his mind. 

As soon as your hand folded around his, a near blinding flash of green light forced your eyes shut as you turned your head away, a squealing and staticy noise filling your ears as you felt a heavy pressure on your neck and a lightness in your chest. In a brief moment, the room fell silent again and Alastor yanked his hand from yours.

You slowly opened your eyes again, timidly looking towards him. You didn’t really have any words at this point, only a sense of loss you couldn’t quite put a finger on.

“There, all settled,” He spoke cheerfully, a complete contradiction of his actions just seconds prior. “Have a goodnight.”

Without another glance, he turned heel and walked away, a light hum playing from his lips. You stood there, staring aimlessly down the hallway and then down at the carpet where blackened ashes of his history stood.

Honestly, right now you were just grateful you weren’t a part of the pile.

[vickyvicarious]

Honestly, I think it could be very impactful if Van Helsing did die in the graveyard tonight. It'd continue the trend of people taking any direct stand against Dracula being killed almost casually in return. Up the stakes even more. Maybe he could be found the next morning on a grave with his neck broken, a look of fear or defiance on his face - a reminder of Mr. Swales's death.

Jack would get the note and then find him or hear about him being found in the graveyard. The suitors would arrive thanks to the note the Professor sent them and they'd link up with him. I imagine they would go together anyway, though more expecting to support a Jack who is wondering if it can be real after all or if it was just madness before he was murdered somehow. They would all learn just how true it is together, would have to save each other and then follow the directions left to them. Or possibly seek out the Harkers first and then they might be involved in the Bloofer Lady staking. That would be a good moment of horror too, Mina seeing Lucy like this...

When the groups united they'd have to do research of their own, or go through the documents left behind by Van Helsing. Books of fairy tales and superstitions, pages with scattered notes, comparing them to the diaries...

Thematically, it would fit pretty well with all the other deaths around this part of the book. The parents are all dead and gone. And while Van Helsing is not a parent to anyone here, he was a mentor and guide to Jack in particular. He would join in with the others who now are orphaned/have to figure things out themselves. Jonathan has inherited the responsibilities of a law firm, Arthur has inherited the title and all that goes with it, Jack would inherit Van Helsing's final task.

There would be more collaboration in general (rather than all mostly following) and more leadership emerging from Mina, probably. None of the suitors are going to be as ready to take the lead in this situation, at least not as totally as Van Helsing. Of course, issues with her being left behind probably aren't going to just totally go away. But I imagine less so, or in a different way. Along the way I think there could be more moments for Arthur or Quincey to shine as well, stepping in at different points where originally Van Helsing took the floor.

The end of the story, where everyone splits up three ways, would have to be changed somehow, of course. Either someone has to go alone, or they have to ignore one route entirely. But I think that might be the biggest actual plot change you'd find completely necessary. Other than what happens to Mina, of course. I do think Dracula would still go after Mina somehow, even if she went with them to examine his boxes. But maybe they wouldn't get to the point of doing so as quickly until they collated all their info. Maybe things happen slower, maybe what happened the final night (Jonathan hypnotized into sleep right next to him) would happen more often. Oh, I guess the other change might be no one to hypnotize Mina while spying, unless this is some skill Quincey happens to have or whatever. But then, Jack seems familiar at least with the theory, so maybe he could make an attempt at it.

I mean, there's no reason you would have to stick that closely to the original story. But for the most part I think you could if you wanted, and it would just be a different tone that would still be really powerful. And it would be kind of interesting to have Van Helsing's role be limited to failing to save Lucy throughout. Hiding information right up until he tries to share it, after which he dies. That phrasing makes it sound really brutal, but... I mean it would kind of be brutal, but his legacy would be bringing the two groups together, showing them the truth (or confirming it as the case may be) and entrusting them with the future.

[octoberautumnbox]

Consider: Yubin who's your seatmate and is very professional in school but every night at 10pm you get the raciest, sauciest, spiciest nudes from her with no warning

Hell Week

tripleS Gong Yubin & Male Reader

Categories/warnings: smut, that's p much all anyone needs to know i think

Word count: 5.5k holy shit

a/n: jeez howd it get this long :nolookk: oh btw i took some liberties with the prompt not that u care heres the fuckin yubin fic :DDDD

~~~

A hand lays itself on your shoulder, the sudden contact nearly making you jump. You turn around and find Yubin clutching a book to her chest with a gentle look on her features. Gesture over to the chair across from you, all the while trying to get your heart rate back under control. 

“My bad, didn't see you were locked in.” She gets into the chair left of you anyway and turns her book to the same page as yours. “How's it going?”

You stretch and groan to let out as much of your tiredness as you can, paying just a bit of mind to everyone else in the library doing pretty much the same. “Dunno. Around twenty minutes ago I accepted I'm retaking this class. What's up with you?”

She giggles while her eyes scan across the paragraphs talking about desert flora and types of precipitation. She rests her cheek on her palm, “I still have a bit of fight in me, but I'm losing hope. I was hoping I could borrow some from you.”

“Sorry, Yubin,” you whisper with every ounce of sympathy you had, “fresh out.” You return to your own book, yet all you do is run your eyes over the same page over and over without much staying in your head. 

A cursory look over to your left shows you scholar-mode Gong Yubin: focused, sharp, and serious. Not that it ever got in the way of you two being friends, but when she gets like this, you know better than to underestimate her–she's capable of plotting the downfall of kingdoms if she set her mind to it. 

However, at the same time, you notice her distress, then immediately notice how well she hides it. It's the same slight crease of her eyebrows in freshman orientation, after midterms in Linguistics 103, and when she finally stopped putting off Geology 102. The realization dawns on you: the situation is dire now that she asks for your help while she's like this, so how could you let her down now?

“Bet you I can score higher,” you challenge her. You have no good reason to issue such a proposition, but if it means giving her support how it matters, whatever embarrassing thing she'll make you do is more than worth it.

It piques her interest and a smile pulls up the corners of her lips. She side-eyes you with an excitement she didn't have just two minutes prior, and you know it worked. “If I win,” she announces as loud as she's allowed to, “make me thick tofu stew. The right way.” 

“Really? That's it?” Then you rebut with just as much fervor, “If I win, you do three of my essays in comparative lit next semester.”

“Now hold the fuck on,” she stumbles, her eyes grown wide and her smile grown toothy, “if you're gonna raise the stakes like that, I need to think of something else!”

Your phone and hers vibrate at the same time, and your screen reads “Get your ass over to Geog.” You both pack your bags and head off to your last Geology class before finals together, and as your book takes its place in the darkness of your backpack, “Fine, but I get to change mine too when I hear yours,” and the spring in her step as you walk tells you it's mission accomplished. 

~~~

In hindsight, it really wasn’t all that bad. The class review session your professor held that day helped you nail down just enough of whatever the fuck sleet might be, and while you're certain it isn't flying colors, your grade at least wouldn't be red. 

Coming out of the exam room, you spot Yubin just seconds before she finds you, and your good deed pays for itself as she skips to approach. 

“Got a good feeling?” There was no point in asking other than that you had to hear it from her, though the wide grin on her face was proof enough. 

“Yeah, I think barely,” she sways cutely from side to side, “and don't think you're off the hook!” She hits you light on the arm, and the most shining feature you can’t ignore is her eyebrows without any sign or symptom of the crease. 

“Not over ‘til the fat lady sings, Gong Yubin,” though you know she's already won. “Three whole essays against… Haven't you decided yet?”

“No, not yet, but the bet is still on!”

You relent, “Fine, fine. Anyway, Nakyoung’s treating the gang to drinks tonight. Wanna come?”

“Nah, busy. Laundry and stuff.” She shifts her weight from foot to foot, and you can tell she’s giddy about what her grade is going to turn out to be. It’s a sight for sore eyes, especially ones that have seen too many grainy tectonic plates and water cycle diagrams. “And why do you insist on full-naming her?”

“I know someone whose name sounds the exact same. As far as I’m concerned, our Nakyoung’s the other Naky.” You place your hand on the small of her back and lead her away from the doorway, and she walks with you without a second thought.

“Mean. You’ll have to introduce me to this first Naky, then.” You slide into rhythm with her gait, and it hits you just how relieved you are for Yubin’s worries to be over. 

It seems such a waste, you think, that laundry is the only thing keeping her away from celebrating, so as you walk out of the Social Sciences building, you bargain one more time: “We’ll be there all night, so just come by when you’re done. I speak for everyone when I say we want you to come, please?”

She giggles again, “I’ll see what I can do. It’s not like I don’t wanna be there, either. Plus,” she admits defeatedly, “we’re getting the results later, and God knows I’d rather not be alone when it comes.” 

~~~

“Hey, where's Yubin?” Nakyoung slings an arm around your shoulder and shoves another mug of beer into your hand. It's a welcome gesture, and it takes all of two and a half seconds for you to down half of it. 

“She has laundry,” you nearly shout back your reply above the music. “Said she'll drop by if she has time.”

Nakyoung makes to yell another reply right into your ear, but decides to pull you away into one of the quieter booths in the bar. “She's a goody-two-shoes, no? Laundry, oh please. Kaede hasn't done laundry in two years.” She takes a gulp of her own beer and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. 

“Hey. She studied her ass off for that test. I made a bet with her and it looks like she has high spirits, but I honestly dunno what I'd do if she fails.”

Your friend takes your chin up with her finger and you realize how pensive an expression was sitting on your face. “This is Gong Yubin. You know she'll kill it.” Nakyoung flashes a confident smile, and it reassures you almost more than your own trust in Yubin herself. “You drunk yet?”

“Nah, not getting shitfaced without Yubin.”

“Cute. You know she likes you too?” 

“Go fuck yourself, Nakyoung. Go steal Seoyeon's boyfriend while you're at it.”

“I wish; she has him under lock and key. But I wouldn't really mind both of them,” she muses, eyeing Seoyeon in the middle of the dancefloor. 

Just then, the devil strolls in through the front door. “Hi! You weren't kidding, it's really loud in here,” Yubin exclaims with her hands shielding her ears as she adjusts to the noise.

She takes Nakyoung's seat–you whip your head around and find Nakyoung at the dancefloor, with Seoyeon grinding against her–and picks up Nakyoung's old mug. She takes a careful sip and ends it with a relieved ahhhh, before setting it back down and getting to business. She leans in like keeping a secret, though she can't hide her toothy grin. “Have you seen your grade yet?”

“It's out?!” You fumble for your phone, and the second it lights up, cold runs through your veins–the email notification is the first thing at the top of the screen. Meanwhile, Yubin calmly slides her phone across the table to you. She asks “I read yours, you read mine?” with the sweetest smile on her face, again with the slight crease on her eyebrows.

Calm your nerves, silence the alarms blaring in your head. You know she did well, absolutely certain. However, it still doesn't soothe you enough; not until you see the grades for yourself. So, as your thumb hovers over her email, your heart nearly beats out of your chest, only to see–

“You got 87 percent,” Yubin states in the blandest, matter-of-fact tone you've ever heard. Her eyes move left and right over the same spot on your phone, making ultimate certain that she's reading it right. Once she is, her tone softens just enough, “Yeah, 87 percent. Wow, that's good,” she sighs with relief, “... Hard to beat.”

Now her turn, you peek at her score. doing the same making sure, and then some. When you read it for the fifth time, you kick yourself mentally for being so worried and having such little trust in the genius that is Gong Yubin. “Goddamn, 95 percent.”

Her eyes widen like sinkholes as her hand flies to cover her mouth. It almost doesn't matter that you hand her back her phone; she snatches it back anyway. Her disbelief chips away at itself with every run through of the email she reads for herself, and when she's finally done, returns her shocked gaze back to you.

“You were that scared of three essays?” you joke. The beer tastes sweeter now that your worries have gone, and as if all six septillion kilograms of the world is off your shoulders. 

“No, three essays is easy,” she taunts, but immediately her voice takes on a gentler tone, “so I win, right?”

You scoff at her haughtiness, but your relief triumphs over all. “Yeah, whatever. What do you want?”

“... I wanna go home. This is enough excitement for one day.”

“Alright, let me take you. Tell me in the cab what you want for winning, though?”

“Sure,” she says with a tiny smile.

~~~

“So,” she declares. She catches her breath, and her face is overcome with a subtle red flush, “about the bet.”

“Yeah, about the bet.”

“I want…” and she hesitates. The cab runs over a mild speed bump, and the resulting sway seemingly knocks her completely out of focus. She gathers her resolve once more, as if every time she tries to speak she drops it and has to pick it up again. 

“You want…?”

It's a good couple minutes of her breathing heavily, and your concern shows itself for her and whatever she has planned for you.

“Is it illegal? What could possibly be so bad that you're hesitating this much?”

“No, no, shut up. I'm working on it.” She takes one last deep breath, even placing a hand on her heart to steady it. “I want… a cum tribute.”

“... A cum tribute.”

“Yes.”

“You want me to…?”

“I'll send you a photo. And do it on that.”

“You want a photo of–”

“Video.”

“You–video?”

“I want a video. Of you. Cumming on a photo. My photo. I'll send it to you.”

There's no way the cab driver doesn't think this is weird. Then again, he has an earphone in, so he might not be listening in at all. You get the feeling Yubin doesn't care either way, completely focused on you. 

“... Alright. You want it this bad, fine.”

“Good. Um,” she follows, “sorry in advance. It's gonna be my first time… taking a photo like this.” She refocuses her attention to the buildings whizzing by outside as she says it, the telltale sign the conversation is over. Still, it lingers in your head for a little while: Yubin's first time. 

~~~

“Look, I'm sorry,” she sighs, “just come up with me? Please?”

You're standing with her outside her dorm, all the while the meter ticks away in the cab. The driver waits expectantly inside for you to get back, but Yubin's fingers wrapped around your sleeve make for a very difficult decision. 

“Okay, okay, just let me pay the cab driver,” you concede, but as soon as you sum up the fare, Yubin snatches it from you and brings it over herself. She and the driver exchange a few words, ending with her waving him off and him leaving her in the dust. She waddles back with her signature grin: the one that tries and fails to hide her excitement. 

“Can I just ask why you want it so bad?”

She shakes her head, “Nope. Now shush,” as you both make the now-silent trek up the four flights of stairs to her floor and room. 

Upon entering, you immediately notice it's nicer than most dorm rooms: huge space, carpet floors, a big window, and two double-size beds, not to mention its own bathroom. It makes you stop and wonder if you ever glossed over any signs that Yubin or her family might come from old money.

“Uhh, give me a few minutes to get ready. The bed on the right is mine, make yourself at home. WiFi password by the light switch. Kaede doesn't like her stuff messed with, so steer clear.” Yubin then disappears into the bathroom, and you lay yourself down on her bed. You're made aware of how you sink comfortably into the memory foam, and of the disarming fragrance that wafts from her bedsheets and pillowcases. She's always smelled like this, you recall, but it's rather nice, you finally admit. 

“Hey,” Yubin attempts. She sits on the edge of her bed next to you, wearing a set of pajamas and no makeup at all. You always knew Yubin was a pretty girl, God knows how many times she's been asked out, but seeing her like this is new; her allure draws you in with a smile and an embrace. Shit, was Nakyoung right? Do you like her? 

“So… How do you want me?” She avoids your eyes and touches her fingertips together, a blush forming on her cheeks. 

“Do you… Do you have a tie?”

Her ears perk up, “Yeah, hold on,” and she retrieves a thin, striped necktie from her dresser. She places it around her neck, her fingers delicately maneuvering the fabric into an intricate-looking knot, and when she's done, she presents herself to you. 

“Take off your top, Yubin,” you tell her, and she hands you her phone with the camera already on. Point it at her, making sure the flash is off, and start taking pictures one by one. 

She pushes aside the tie and fiddles with the top button. It's effortless how she undoes it, and she pulls the collar apart to show you more of her. She unbuttons the next, then the next, all the while showing you her smooth skin. With half the buttons undone, she shows off her chest, showing nothing but skin underneath her top.

You take a moment to catch your breath, swallow your spit. “Are you sure about this, Yubin?” 

“Yeah… Just keep going, please.” She undoes her fifth button at the very bottom, revealing her midriff and making you salivate. Must be heaven to kiss her there, when she snaps you out of it, “Are you still taking pictures?” Am I that distracting?” Look up to her, find her with the same sweet smile on her face but with a new blush decorating her cheeks.

Her last button is her fourth, and it's undone before you know it. She keeps her pajama top on a little bit longer, covering her chest a little bit more, and finally she shrugs it off one shoulder. It's nothing but everything all at once, and the split second your self-control wavers is the exact moment you leap in.

You drop her phone somewhere on the mattress; both your hands grip her shoulders as your lips capture hers. She leans into the kiss, wrapping her fingers on the back of your neck, and tiny moans escape her amidst smooches that get louder the hungrier she gets. 

Pull the top off her other shoulder, and she finally strips it all off. However, you can't even enjoy the sight, not yet, as you draft down from her lips to her slender neck, leaving a trail of kisses on your way. She runs her fingers through your hair before holding you in place, all the while leading your free hand to her chest. 

She sucks air in through her teeth, “That's really good, just like that…” she moans as her head tilts to allow more access to her neck. The scent of her shampoo fills your nostrils and you feel yourself getting addicted, but not as much as to the softness of her skin. 

She pulls you down onto the bed, and you find yourself leaning over her. Yubin lies under you, watching you intently and waiting for what you'll do next. Her tie sits right in the valley of her tits, and it drives you wild. Take a nipple in between your teeth while you fondle her other breast. She breathes heavy in pleasure, wordlessly asking for more and more of your attention and love. Her fist closes on your hair as she pushes you further onto her chest, her other hand hopelessly tugging on your pants.

It's all the message you need from her: your pants go, then your underwear, then everything else. Your cock stands hard in her sights, and the way her fingers wrap around your length is nothing short of heaven. 

“Do… do you wanna do it with me?” Her question is purely innocent, without a single hint of malice in her voice. She rubs your shaft slowly, sending waves of tantalizing pleasure throughout your whole body.

“Do you have condoms?”

“... Kaede will forgive me.” She crawls down the ladder, picks out a square plastic wrapper from her roommate's dresser, and hurries to get back to you. The smile on her face as she comes up the ladder again is one of, if not the most beautiful things you've ever seen. 

You guide her as she puts the condom on you, and the sensation of her fingers gently unrolling the rubber along your length only makes you more impatient. Finally, you hook your fingers on the garter of her pajama bottoms, and she lifts her hips to accommodate you. The fabric slides off her so easily, revealing her long, smooth legs that she seems desperate to have you in between of. 

“Go easy, okay? I told you…” 

“Yeah, your first time. I'll take care of you,” you reassure her. Line up your throbbing cock against her slick heat, feel her palm on your cheek, watch her flash that killer smile again. She bites her lip, and while you know it isn't on purpose, it makes her look sexier all the same. 

Slide your cock into her, making sure to go slow. She shuts her eyes harder with every inch she takes of you, and when she moves her hands to your forearms and grips tight, it reminds you like a looping cycle: “Go easy, go easy.”

So you go slow and steady, staving off your lust for the woman giving herself to you. Each thrust into her sex is careful and calculated, though by the second you feel your calculations going awry. She pants at every good spot in her cavern you happen to drag across, earning her little admissions of newly found pleasure in the form of mewls and moans like a song you’d never tire of. 

“Faster, please…? You’re so–ugh, fuck…” And the way she pleads flips a switch in you; plant your elbows into the memory foam on either side of her head while she takes your face in her hands. Yubin pulls you in for a kiss and it means the world to her when you grow careless with your lovemaking.

“Fuck, fuck, not too fast, just right, mmm,” each time you push into her cunt. The way she mumbles sweet nothings into your ear, the way she holds on for dear life and leaves scratches all the way down your back, she takes up every single thought going through your head: Yubin, Yubin, Yubin…

You scarcely notice how she's scratching your harder, gripping you tighter, grinding against you faster–it’s much too late to finally hear her warning, “I'm close, I'm close, oh fuck, fuck, aaahhhh!” as she explodes with you still inside her. Her pussy clenches around your cock in all the best ways, and you savor the feeling as she rides out her orgasm. Her knuckles turn white as she grips you by the shoulders, though all you can see is how her tits bounce with every jerk that runs through her body. Yubin's eyes roll to the back of her head and her mouth hangs open, a prolonged, deep moan gracing your ears as she ambles closer and closer to spent. 

Take a moment, let her breathe. Every gasp of air in her lungs is like a blessing, and each one steadily brings her from beyond heaven back to you. Her hands fall to her sides as she pants out her delirium and replaces it with tiredness, and once she's stable she flashes you that killer smile again. It pulls on the corners of her mouth, showing the tiniest amount of teeth, though her eyes are nowhere near open. Plant a kiss on her cheek, then her neck, then receive her giggles once you stay and rest right on her pulse. 

“You good? Still alive?”

All she can do is nod, having had every last ounce of her strength sapped. She lays motionless under you, save for her chest rising and falling with her breathing, and you know she looks to you for comfort and security. You take another moment to bask in her afterglow; she's never looked more gorgeous. 

“Hey,” she whispers, and you swear it's the most tired you've ever heard her, or anyone for that matter. “You good?”

“Yeah, I'm okay. Are you sure you're good?”

“Yeah. Thank you.” She pulls you back down and plants a kiss on your cheek. Her lips linger for a second, as if she's taking in your scent made hers. You stay like this for a good while, just enjoying each other's presence, relishing in the warmth of a body that gave itself up for the other. You don't even notice when you slumped over onto the mattress beside her, but her head on your chest felt like the rightest thing in the world.

“We're not done, by the way,” she prods.

“What? Why not? Aren't you tired?”

“‘Tired’ isn't part of the bet. I still want that tribute.”

And you remember, you have a job to do, a debt to pay. It’s between your common sense and your lust for the hottest girl in the world right now, and there is a clear winner. 

Pull back from her, off of the bed, and plant your feet on the floor. Firm and resolute, tell her: “Fine, on your knees.” The flush on her face deepens to an igneous red, and she scrambles to the floor in front of you.

“You're so pretty, Yubin,” you muse as you point her camera back to her face. Make sure the flash is off, and once you push the big red button to record, your other hand immediately takes her cheek and guides her to your tip. 

Yubin's eyes flutter shut as she inches her lips closer and closer to your cock. The first contact is heavenly; just gentle kisses and licks from a complete novice pretending to be an expert at this sort of stuff. The way her tongue glides over your shaft, the way she plants kisses all over your cock with the tiniest sucks, the way she does all of this with her eyes gracefully shut makes for a killer video for her to get off to later. A blowjob from a girl like this comes once in a lifetime, so you resolve to give her everything she'd ever want from a tribute like this. 

A moan escapes you, and she picks up that she's doing it right. With your subconscious approval, the hand on her cheek pulling further her in, she takes your tip in her mouth. Her tongue works overtime in running all over the head, paying special attention to your slit, making absolutely sure her spit coats wherever she can reach. She takes in more and more of your shaft, pressing her tongue on the underside of your cock as she does, all the while her cheeks hollow out like her life depends on it. 

Tiny vibrations from her throat only add to the pleasure, sending shivers up your spine and your hand to the back of her head. For the first time, she opens her eyes, and the sight is something to behold: she looks up at you with the biggest, roundest, most pleading eyes, the epitome of cuteness if not for your cock she oh-so-diligently services to get what she wants. 

Yubin takes you in just a bit deeper, slightly turning her head and savoring the way your length fills her mouth, when you hit the back of her throat, causing her to gag. She pulls back abruptly as a tear forms in the corner of her eye, and you have half a mind to pull out entirely to make sure she's okay. Instead, she never lets you–she takes your cock again, shooting you another pleading look before she shuts her eyes and bobs her head onto your cock again and again. 

Luckily, you pick up on her message; Snake your fingers through her hair, grab a fistful, make her yours. A moan rises from her throat once again, and she steadies herself with her hands on your thighs in preparation. She's ready. 

Pull her in as far as she can take, and it's a good most of your shaft before she gags again. Offer her no breathing room, bob her head onto your cock over and over, all the while more of her slobber coats your length, some of it falling off her lips and onto her chest and lap. She never fights, only takes–soon the gagging is replaced by an obedient, rhythmic gluck-gluck-gluck than you're sure even she'd find hot if she could think straight. Instead, her phone picks up every sight and sound for her to enjoy later, while you both enjoy each other now. 

It's everything all at once: the sight of Gong Yubin's plump, sexy lips around your shaft, the feeling of her tongue relentlessly dragging over every inch of your cock, the sound of your tip meeting her throat again and again while her groans fight their way out. “Yubin… I'm close,” you confess, but with her eyes still shut and her tongue still going crazy all over you, you don't think she heard. So make the decision yourself: yank her hard off your cock, rub your shaft right against her delicious lips. Once she exits her daze, she takes your dick in her hand and rubs all across the length. Tears fall from the corner of her eyes and her lips give off the slightest tremble, but she's resolute in what she wants to earn from you. 

It takes no time at all until you reach your limit. It's the best handjob anyone has ever probably given, but it's that one last kiss from her, right on your tip, that sends you over the edge. One last groan, one last jerk, one last tug of her hair, and your orgasm hits. Your cum shoots out in ropes, all landing on her face and tits. She's determined to receive everything from you, so it's only right to give her exactly what she wants. She shuts her eyes again, but her mouth stays wide open to catch whatever she can of it–she never stops jerking you off even as your cum falls onto her eyelids, her nose bridge, her forehead, her chin. Yubin savors every moment and every drop, burning the memory of bliss into her mind as you coat her face with your love. 

Your orgasm finally dies down, and you realize just how much she squeezed out of you. You're sure no one has ever looked lewder, your cum smeared all over her face, yet she proves you wrong when she picks up a fingerful of it to take into her mouth. She licks her lips, apparently loving the taste, while you love the sight of her acting so sultry for you. 

Stumble back onto the bed, take Yubin with you. Both of you are out of strength, breathing heavy, and in the middle of processing that you just painted her face with cum–that she asked you to paint her face with cum. You barely notice the stars swirling in your eyes, but your sense of the situation comes back just quick enough to avoid things getting awkward. 

“I think I wanna shower, so you should wash up first,” you mumble, still staring at her beige ceiling, and you can feel she's panting and doing the same without even seeing her. 

Wordlessly she gets up and her carpet-muffled footsteps grow quieter as she heads to the bathroom. A door shuts, a handle creaks, a shower gushes to life. Your brain sits idle, making no attempts to form thoughts other than acknowledging the shower turning off and on while she bathes. It's calming in its own way, you suppose–taking a bath is one of the normalest things in the world–as if what you just did with her was a close runner-up. 

An unknowable amount of time passes, and a fresh, citrus-scented Yubin emerges from the bathroom again. She dries her hair with her towel as she makes her way to her hair blower, but not before shooting you a gorgeous smile and a head tilt to the bathroom to let you know it's your turn. 

~~~

Leaving the bathroom yourself, you find a dark bedroom, save only for a yellow lamp shining against a nearby wall. Yubin is sitting up in her bed and scrolling on her phone, and once she spots you, she beckons you over.

“Look, funny,” she whispers with a giggle, and she shows you a clip of a guy much too excited about a truck looking like Optimus Prime. 

“Yeah. Hey, listen, I'm pretty tired,” you attempt. In no way is this a lie, and you're sure she's tired too. You bet she wants nothing more than to finally go to sleep and end what should be a perfect night on a high note. 

“Totally,” she agrees, “come on in. It's cold.” She lifts up the covers and looks over to you expectantly. Not that it dumbfounds you, but it throws you for a slight loop; she literally just said it was cold. 

“Wh– I'm heading out, is what I mean. You should get your rest, too.”

Yubin's eyes take on a softer expression, “Oh, you're not staying over?”

“... Did you want me to?”

“Yeah…?”

Your eyes lock with hers for what seems like half a second and a million hours at the same time. You're stuck in place, still in a stalemate of a staring contest with her, and you're not sure even she knows what the two of you want out of the situation. Her expression turns into one of concern, and her arm holding up the covers falters just a bit. Fuck, you think, window's closing.

Make your choice, have no regrets. Get in the covers with her, and she lets them drop to snuggle up to you. Once the both of you settle, her head on your chest and yours on one of the fluffiest pillows in the world, she blurts out quietly: “You fucked up, you know.”

She navigates to her gallery and finds your video of her, and skips to a part near the end. “Your dumb ass stopped recording just as you were about to cum.” And the video did show that: Yubin rubbing your cock, eyes shut, tongue out and ready for your load, and the video stops. 

“Shit, sorry–” 

“This wasn't the bet. I wanted a cum tribute, not a facial. You need to send me a proper one,” she muses, “or take a proper video.”

Now that stuns you. You wonder how interesting her ceiling is for you to stare at it so much, but she snaps you out of it partway through by snaking a hand up your shirt and settling it right above your heart. Reciprocate–it only feels right–wrap an arm around her shoulders and pull her even closer. An exhale from both of you, and one last exchange of words: 

“Okay. Tomorrow?”

“Can you go again that soon?”

“If it's you, of course.”

“Don't guys need to recharge?”

“... I'll handle it.”

~~~

[venuscrashed]

I lived the Miles x autistic reader fic. So I wanted to ask I you could write 42! Miles x Autistic male reader, who talks a lot, like always tell him about his special interest and one day, Miles had a rough time and he snaps at the reader for talking so much, and the reader just goes non-verbal.

Please and thank you

The angst. 😭

Also sorry that this is bad. I have not motivation.

Annoyance. That’s all Miles felt in that very moment. If he knew what would happen he would have never done it. He knew how you were but you just caught him at a bad time.

His uncle criticized him for making a mistake on a mission. It was stupid, he knew, but it still bothered him. He came home and you were laying there on his bed. The smile you gave him almost made everything better but you went straight to talking.

You went on about this one movie that’s coming out based off of your favorite book series. You talked about the cast and how you wished the cgi wasn’t going to be bad. Then you went into the lore of the book, what happened and how it did.

You noticed that Miles wasn’t really paying attention as he was walking around the room. His mood was different. You asked about it and he just snapped. “Why do you talk so much,” he yelled at you. “Can you shut up for one minute?”

He noticed how you stiffened. He was about to apologize, really he was but you ran out to much. He knew how much this movie means to you and he knew that you weren’t the problem. He felt so bad.

“Miles what happened?” His mother asked, “I heard what happened. Why did you yell at him?”

He sat down in his bed, his face in his hands. “I messed up. Real bad.”

His mother went and sat next to him, giving a comforting hand. “At least you realize that. Now go apologize to him. If you run you might make it to him.”

Miles looked up at his mom, “Thanks.”

Miles ran out of that apartment with all the speed he had left. He was jumping down the stairs, practically flying. He stopped once he saw you. “(Name)!” He grabbed ahold of your arm and turned you around.

“I’m sorry. I really am, I know how much that movie meant to you. And I want you to know that I’m not mad at you. You just got me at a bad time.”

He saw you staring at him, you were crying. He was hugging you and you felt how sorry he was. “How about we go see that movie the day it comes out?” He cleaned you face.

Something was different, you weren’t answering him. You avoided his eye contact and just left him. God he was an idiot.

He would have never had yelled if he knew you were going to go silent. Your parents explained to him how he was the problem, and he knew that. He was sorry.

[snowyquokka]

SECRET SECRET

K. SEUNGMIN

chapter 1

cw: swearing, fem reader, academic rivals, angst if you squint, both like each other but wont admit it

wc: 1.2k

a.n - welcome to my first full fic !! im super excited to share this and im actually really proud of it. happy reading <3

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You’re sitting at your usual spot in the library on your college campus when a book is slammed down on your table, ripping a yelp from your chest as you practically jump out of your skin. You look up to see a smug grin splayed on full, pale pink lips.

Brown eyes sparkle back at you mischievously and before he even opens his mouth, you just know he’s going to say something to purposely aggravate you.

“I don’t want to know, nor do I care.” you grumble before turning back to your book.

“Where the Crawdads Sing.” Seungmin hums, “Didn’t know you had taste,” You ignore him and turn the page.

He huffs and plops down in the seat next to you, his knee brushing against yours as he does.

You snap your head up and admit defeat, placing a bookmark where you left off.

“Since you so rudely interrupted me,”

He rolls his eyes in response to your complaint, “Here we go again,”

“Don’t give me that.” you snap, “You came over here unannounced while I was clearly doing something. So tell me, what is it that you want to brag about now? Hm? Perfect score on the English essay? No wait- I know, you’ve finally succeeded in ass kissing every professor in the building.”

The entire time you were ranting, Seungmin sat with his chin in his palm, face angled towards you. His grin never faltered, which in turn only pissed you off more.

You snap your book shut and move to stand before you feel a hand tug on your sleeve, forcing you to sit.

“I didn’t come over here to brag,” Seungmin readjusts in his chair so his knees are poking the side of your bare thigh, the sudden contact sending warmth throughout you.

“I was hoping we could- I don’t know. Maybe we could be at least civil with each other?.”

Your eyebrows shoot up and your eyes widen.

“C-Civil?” you sputter while searching his face for any trace of ulterior motives.

He nods and fidgets a little. That’s when you realize that he’s nervous.

Seungmin is anything but nervous when it comes to talking to you. He’s always confident while spewing whatever insults he can think of on the spot.

“I uhm- I think I owe you an apology.”

“Excuse me?” That’s not what you meant to say.

Though, you’re fairly certain that whatever you were going to say would’ve come out ten times worse.

“Yeah.” he winces, “Fuck- you know I’m bad at this kind of stuff,” Seungmin huffs and runs a hand through his blonde hair.

“I’m sorry for being a dick,” his broad shoulders deflate and he looks like a weight was literally lifted off of him.

“You’re sorry?”

“Will you stop repeating me?” he scowls.

You can’t help but giggle a little, he couldn’t last two minutes into an apology without looking or sounding annoyed.

“‘M sorry. I just,” you bite your lip to stifle another laugh, “I didn’t think I’d live to see the day that Kim Seungmin apologized for- well, anything.”

He grumbles something incoherently and pushes his knee farther into your thigh. You swallow hard and look behind him at the now very interesting bookshelf.

Seungmin sighs and gets up without another word and leaves. You watch as he rounds the corner and slips through the door.

“What the hell just happened,” you blink and whisper to yourself.

After his sudden apology, Seungmin has avoided you for an entire week now. He won’t even spare you a glance. You’re complaining about it to your best friend, Hyunjin, who also happens to be close with Seungmin.

Small world.

“Look, I don’t know exactly what happened but, like, could you maybe talk to him about it? He’s been killing the mood lately.” Hyunjin brings his iced americano to his lips while you form a bewildered expression.

“Me? You want me to talk to him?” you scoff and lean back in your chair, “Why should I have to? He apologized, I listened. End. Of. Story.”

“Why are you always so stubborn,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes, placing his coffee on the table.

“Ridiculous. Absolutely fucking ridiculous.” you huff and pinch the bridge of your nose. Hyunjin gives you an ‘are you serious’ look.

“If I let you put his number in my phone, will you shut up about it?” He grins and holds out his hand for you to give your phone to him. “And you’re buying me another coffee.”

[You] - cheer up

[Intellectual Demon] - who is this?

[You] - jinnie said that you’ve been a real downer since apologizing to me

[Intellectual Demon] - it’s not even that bad

[You] - i can feel the frown radiating off of you rn

[You] - it’s your aura.

Seungmin smiles to himself proudly. After all, it was his idea to get Hyunjin to give you his number.

Now all he has to do is convince you to meet with him. He’s got it all mapped out; you’ll meet with him at his place, he’ll confess, you’ll reciprocate his feelings and you live happily ever after.

The guy gets the girl, like he always does. It’s a simple, foolproof plan.

Right?

“Yeah, no thanks. I’m good.”

Wrong.

Seungmin was so wrong. Immediately after you pick up the phone he’s already hit with a groan and a ‘what do you want now?’ Nonetheless, he pushed through and asked you to go to his place. You declined, which shouldn’t have surprised him, but it does. Seungmin thought that if he apologized all would be forgiven and you would be more willing to speak to him.

Though, he can only blame himself. He fell-and crashed- first, hard. Instead of admitting his feelings to you, and himself, he tried his hardest to distance himself from you, making you find him unbearable to be around. It worked, of course.

Seungmin wishes it didn’t. He wishes he would’ve just grown a pair and told you. He wishes he didn’t feel so unlovable.

You, on the other hand, have attempted to make your attraction obvious. Someone can only take so much rejection, however. You stopped flirting, stopped even looking in his direction at one point. Seungmin made it crystal clear that he wanted nothing to do with you, and now that he’s apologized you can’t help but catch those feelings all over again.

“Please, just- what do I need to do for you to come here?” Seungmin’s voice echoes through your head, bouncing off the sides as you feel yourself slowly start to give in.

You seriously should stop being a pushover.

“Send me your address, I’ll be there soon.” There’s a pause at the end of the line when Seungmin mutes himself and screams into his pillow.

tags: @godslino @skzstarnet @anakin-sweetheart

dividers: @chaeneuu

[rosesradio]

idk if this is valid crit or just another “old man yells at clouds” moment but like. i kinda hate how the show got rid of the romantic angle of luke & annabeth’s relationship.

i’m sure people would jump to counter “ew you ship them!!1!” which like. as much as i like a good dark explorational toxic fic, that’s not the particular bias that’s making me think about this.

i think part of it is that they basically stripped the entire dynamic of anything emotional. they told-not-showed their way into “she’s my little sister”, with impossibly little interaction between the two before annabeth’s chucking a knife at him with no hesitation.

but like. in the books, their relationship has so many layers. platonic, familial, and yes, romantic. Annabeth’s feelings for him creates more of a rivalry between luke and Percy. It’s one of the things (including her familial feelings towards him, obv) that makes annabeth hesitant to face against him.

when luke is dying, he and annabeth’s last interaction is a pretty divisive topic in the fandom. it creates yet another layer of “is Luke really a hero or kind of a creep?” you don't have to like it, but at least it sparked interest and conversation.

idk, i think by stripping anything potentially dark or “problematic” from the books, you create a very sanitized world that doesn’t have nearly the same grit as the books, which are still perfectly acceptable to a child audience. like, you’re telling me it’s appropriate for luke to create a child army, but not for annabeth to have a crush on him? they could have written out anything on his end, too, and just left it one-sided with no nuance.

idk, it just feels like another shortcoming from the show, but this isn’t the first time diss knee has sanitized something that could have handled a bit more darker themes 🧍

[snz-eriya]

A Strange Feeling (D/an H/eng snzfic, H/S/R, ft. C/aelus)

me: man I think I have writer's block again

also me: *writes nearly 2k words of horn*

anyway this is a valentine's post for @mochindayo !!!!!!! ur art is so good I wanna eat it and u deserve to have the best day ever every day!!! I hope you enjoy this fic I give as tribute to your amazingness :')

Caelus pressed on the button to open his door, wearily. It wasn’t like time was very clear if one were to look out the window, given that they were in space. Time itself was a little vague on the Astral Express. Nevertheless, he had been attempting to sleep for what felt like five years. Though to his exaggeratory mind, it was probably more like a few hours. But for some reason, his mind was running wild. No thought was consistent, only one random idea after another that captivated his attention and kept rest just out of arm’s reach. Eventually he got tired of trying, and decided to walk around the ship in hopes to tire out his body.

Or his mind, hopefully. Though it never really did seem to quiet down.

He walked past March’s room, and then Dan Heng’s. Just before he was about to turn the corner, he paused. He stepped backwards until he was in front of Dan Heng’s room again. Then back a few more steps to March’s. Then back to Dan Heng’s. 

He likely would have seemed to be a lunatic in someone else’s eyes. But there was a strange feeling that he got when he walked past specifically Dan Heng’s room. An indescribable feeling. An emotion? Something that made him uneasy. Whatever it was, it made him pause. He reached a hand out, to test if the door was unlocked. It probably would be. Dan Heng’s ‘room’ was the archive, after all. And as private as he was, he didn’t really mind if someone came in without permission as long as it was for a good reason. Was feeling weird a good reason? Probably not, but who knows? Maybe Dan Heng was dying, or attacked, or something. Probably not. Unless Dan Heng refused to be loud even when dying.

Opening up the door, Caelus was relieved to see that Dan Heng was not dying. Though he expected the other to at least be asleep or something at this time(?) of night(?). But no, his fellow Nameless was up and about, at the archives, sorting through various documents and books they had collected over their journeys. Which, that was good, it wasn’t like Caelus could be bothered to remember every detail of all those wordy papers (he could barely stand to read a few sentences without getting bored) but when everyone else had already gone to bed? He could have done it earlier and avoided spending time with everyone.

Caelus had a feeling just standing there and not saying anything for an extended period of time would not give him any avoidance for creepiness, so he decided to speak up.

“Dan Heng?”

The other jumped, as if surprised by his presence. Kind of strange. The doors weren’t exactly quiet. Not a big deal though. Maybe he was just focused.

“Caelus…” Dan Heng muttered, relaxing. Maybe he was expecting an enemy too. Or for Caelus to be dying instead. In any case, he turned back to his work. “Is there something you need?”

Caelus stood for a moment. Not really. For the weird feeling to go away? But how was he supposed to describe that? “Uh… no,” he eventually replied. Dan Heng looked back at him, an eyebrow raised at his answer.

Silence stretched between them once again.

Caelus really had to stop chasing every feeling that interested him.

“Uh… so… still working? Y’know everyone else is asleep,” he finally spoke up again, the awkward energy starting to get to him.

“I could say the same to you,” Dan Heng responded coolly. It seemed like he dropped trying to figure out what Caelus was doing there, and instead turned back to the archives once more.

Caelus still felt weird. So, ignoring his own note-to-self, he approached to stare at Dan Heng’s work over his shoulder. To be honest, his eyes were so tired that the words sort of jumbled together into an incoherent mess. It was more so just to get his crew mate’s attention.

And get his attention it did. Dan Heng glanced over, turning to face Caelus again. “If you don’t need anything, why are you still here? You should be sleeping.”

“Y’know I could just… say the same thing to you, right?” Caelus replied, trying to keep an exhaustedly smug grin off his face. “You’re archiving this late? I didn’t know there was still stuff left to archive.”

“There’s always things left. Please leave me be. I have work to do,” Dan Heng requested again. Though, like he had the mind of a child, it was like being told to stop doing something just made the trailblazer want to do it more. 

“I can help, if you want. I’m sure I can handle the, uh…” He picked up a random book, squinting at its title. “Underground Encyclopedia of Plants and Fungle.”

“Fungi. You’re not a child. You know how to read,” Dan Heng sighed in exasperation. Putting a hand to his head like the interaction was giving him a headache. 

“Meh, close enough. C’mon, it’ll get done faster if we do it together.”

“It’s fine.”

“Look, I know you like it all to be perfect, but there’s gotta be some kind of autocorrect in this thing, right?”

“Please, Caelus, just leave me be.” 

Dan Heng sounded desperate, which was strange. Typically Dan Heng would act annoyed but compliant, even more so when it came to March than him. But looking in the Nameless’ glassy eyes, it seemed like he was a few seconds away from begging.

Wait, glassy eyes? Oh, fuck. Was he actually dying? Was that his dying wish? His last words?

Caelus opened his mouth to apologize for making Dan Heng’s last moments so painful, when–

“heh’GKshu!” Dan Heng quickly turned away as soon as the sneeze rang through him. And suddenly Caelus realized that he wasn’t dying. In the traditional sense, anyway.

“Oh,” he said.

“What?” Dan Heng replied, turning back like nothing had happened at all.

“Uh, you’re sick?” Caelus stated, because it was obvious. After the evidence, anyway.

“I’m not,” Dan Heng immediately denied, turning his head away with arms crossed.

“Uh-huh.” Caelus’ eyes lidded disbelievingly, he had a small smirk on his face. “So why’re you still working, huh? To convince us that you’re not sick? Or to convince yourself? Because, just saying, I never would have seen you if I wasn’t already worried you were dying.”

Dan Heng scoffed. “Well, I’m definitely not dying.”

“You are sick, though.”

“heH’GXkshu!” 

Dan Heng faced Caelus again after turning away to sneeze, about to protest for a second time. Caelus managed to shut it down before it started again.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re not sick, and the whole sneezing is just… a coincidence?” He waved his hand absently.

Dan Heng didn’t reply that time. His arguments had been effectively dismantled, and Caelus wasn’t stupid, just nonsensical most of the time.

He sighed, resting his head on an open palm, kept upright by the table. Caelus waited for a moment to see if anything more would be said, but he was met with silence. He took it as permission to carry out his plan.

He reached over and placed the back of his hand onto Dan Heng’s cheek, only to be met with his disapproving stare. “Wrong spot,” he muttered.

“Oh. Right,” Caelus recalled, moving his touch to the man’s forehead instead. He was met with a dry, hot temperature, something that he assumed was probably not good. 

He pulled back, hands on his hips. “Yeah, in my very professional opinion, you should be in bed. Not at a desk.”

“But–”

“Nuh-uh, doctor’s orders, unless you want me to get a literal doctor in here.”

“Caelus–”

“I will call Natasha!” Caelus pulled out his phone, just to make his point entirely clear.

That seemed to shake the last of Dan Heng’s resolve. His shoulders lowered like he had given up all remaining fight. “Fine.”

Caelus smiled, pleased with his victory. “Good. Now, c’mon.” He took Dan Heng’s hand and started dragging him up without another thought.

“Wh- huh? My bed’s right there,” Dan Heng looked down at his blanket and pillow cluelessly, then back up and Caelus as he continued to be pulled away.

“Yeah, that’s not really a sickbed. Or a bed. Or anything other than a poor man’s attempt,” the trailblazer replied. “You need a real bed. A Trailblazer-patented bed, at that.”

Dan Heng sighed. “You’re ridiculous. There’s no changing your mind, is there?”

“The only person on this ship more stubborn than you is me.”

That was fairly accurate.

As soon as they had left Dan Heng’s room, its owner soon crumpled down into another sneeze.

“heH’IGHkshu! hih’GXKshih! hh- heh… hih-”

“Stuck?” Caelus wondered, glancing back at his companion. His expression was pained, one eye closed and the other watering. He panted, desperately waiting for the urge to take over once again, but it remained out of reach.

“Here,” the trailblazer spoke, opening the door to his room as the lights flickered on all at once. He dragged Dan Heng along with him. The result was immediate.

“hEH’KGhshu! heH’GKshih! heH- hIH’XGkhuh! huh…”

Dan Heng sighed in relief as the fit finally came to an end. He looked about fifteen shades brighter red, though whether that was from the fever or the embarrassment was anyone’s guess. Caelus, for all the satisfaction being helpful gave him, wasn’t exactly willing to let Dan Heng suffer for his weak fulfillment. 

“Now, to bed with you.” He wrapped an arm around Dan Heng’s shoulders, practically carrying him the rest of the way to bed.

The other man had enough energy to cooperate by the time he was being lied down, allowing Caelus to tuck him in like a child despite his protests. He had to admit that it was comfier than his own room.

Caelus let out a breath, like he was exhausted from a workout. “Okay. Now, sleep.”

Dan Heng raised an eyebrow at him. “I can’t do that on command.”

“I’m pretty sure you can. You almost passed out as soon as we got in here.”

Had he? He must have been more tired than he thought.

“And where will you be sleeping? Sharing a bed with me wouldn’t be smart if I’m ill.”

“Yeah, ‘if,’” Caelus rolled his eyes. Then, he pointed his thumb down towards the ground. “The floor.”

Dan Heng stared for a moment. “...The floor.”

Caelus glanced to the side, then back to his companion. “...Why are you surprised? You do it.”

That couldn’t really be argued. For some reason it just felt inhumane when it came to his friend rather than him. Though that was something he could unpack another day.

“Try not to worry about it, Dan Heng. Maybe worry about yourself, for once. The rest of us are fine.” Caelus gave him a real, genuine and caring smile, before walking off towards what was probably a closet.

It was a bit hard to tell, his vision was starting to fade away, and unconsciousness was pulling at him. It was a little embarrassing to admit how relaxed he felt, in his friend’s room rather than his own.

But it gave him a feeling of safety.

And Caelus’ feeling had gone away too, he realized as he glanced back at Dan Heng’s sleeping form. He still didn’t quite have a name for it. Maybe… a feeling that something was wrong. But not just wrong in general. Something that was wrong with someone he cared about. And that was a feeling he wanted to hold onto.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 6/25/2024

i played a game that is not genshin impact!

listening

paige kennedy's lingerie model. the line "cause i'm a little rat boy in the body of a lingerie model" startled a laugh out of me. off the discover weekly playlist.

-

reading

thank you philip.

Johnny Guitar by Roy Chanslor, on interlibrary loan bc i was hoping reading the book would kickstart my long-planned fic based on the movie. surprise! wildly different book i read in one sitting! the locations, most of the characters (except most of them are much younger) and who's on what sides are essentially the same, but everything else is different!

there are five whole women in this thing, which is a staggering number for a western. i don't know that i have a clear idea of what this book is trying to say about Women in general or specific. i've just been kind of rolling it around in my head for a while. once i figure out what i want to say about this book everyone better watch out

-

watching

borrowed my best friend's husband and their disney plus account to watch a lot of star wars. we certainly had a lot of thoughts about the show Ahsoka but none of them were particularly complimentary. it's dave filoni playing the fucking hits. would you like some wolves and some owls and people having bad feelings and recreating the training session on the millennium falcon from ANH? would you like some fairly lackluster lightsaber battles? would you like the least interesting concept of a waiting room/purgatory/underworld you've ever seen? this is a show where we meet Anakin again and TRAVEL TO A DIFFERENT FUCKING GALAXY, the BIRTHPLACE of some WITCHES. can we be a little bit excited about new things please??? please?????? we are so very bogged down in cutting back and forth, bc god forbid everyone be in the same place at the same time, that we get only the tiniest glimpses of fun new places. show me the places. stop giving me medium shots of people yapping. easily three quarters of this show is filmed from the waist up or closer. what fucking gives. if i really really wanted to scratch the itch of a worrisome legacy and lost love and slightly weird student/teacher dynamics i would go read a contemporary literary novel. show me the interesting parts of star wars and not just the fanservicey callback parts please thanks

we did have a lot of fun with The Acolyte, which genuinely does feel like a breath of fresh air. most of the dialogue is extremely bad, which is sort of par for the course for a star war, but the gleeful jumping with both feet into some real melodramatic weekly serial/space opera tropes!!! much more interested in playing with a heightened narrative/playing with narrative at all, unlike ahsoka which is more focused on filling in a little blank spot!!! witches here also!!! the GOOD TWIN and the EVIL TWIN, several inventive assassinations, the CLEARING of one's NAME, a cursed planet, some fights that feel like they're playing with samurai movies and westerns in a fun new way instead of reminding me of a better thing i could be watching. thank you im eating this with a spoon. many people are very mad about it bc the protagonist is black and perhaps not perfectly straight. the public says this star wars is bad, bc of woke and bc of cliffhangers. i think this one is fun actually so far!!!

-

playing

Freshly Frosted (2022, Quantum Astrophysics Guild). free on Epic rn and quite honestly this should be a self-care/old people brain plasticity phone game. why it is NOT on mobile is beyond me. why it is on SWITCH is also beyond me.

it did make me miss a novelty doughnut and coffee mini local chain in the five college area that has long since gone under. one of my therapists used to have an office above one of their stores and i used to go to a class at smith on wednesdays, go to therapy, and then jog for the half hour bus back to umass, reward doughnut in hand.

it opens with a soft-voiced woman telling you about how she likes to decompress by laying in a field and imagining a donut factory in the sky. she gives encouraging little tips and "hey! be nice to yourself!" throughout the game, but mostly at the beginnings of levels and introducing new mechanics. there are, perhaps, overly plentiful achievements.

there are a dozen dozen levels and i played through the first three dozen, or the first three boxes (normie don't draw over your line, multi track drifting, merging paths). i once had a level correct and then hit undo out of indecision and the tutorial lady told me "“You had it, click the undo button in the top right to undo”. which i don't believe i've ever seen in a game.

i stopped at the third box bc there’s a universal order to ingredients (always frosting then sprinkles then whipped cream then etc) but it does not ever tutorialize that it will only put the next ingredient on if the previous ones are fulfilled. like this was the level i figured this out on.

on further levels in this box i was not thinking super hard about what the actual order was and i couldn't really tell you how i solved a particular level except for making sure every possible path existed. maybe this gets super wild in later levels idk but three dozen levels was enough of a novelty for me. if i may be a little mean to a perfectly fine game, it feels like a coding bootcamp project in the way it steps through its logic and introduces new mechanics.

-

making

cross stitch update. i don't believe this will be done by my brother's birthday

[ticklishraspberries]

Twenty Questions (Catherine/Peter)

Summary: Catherine finds her husband boring, so he tries to prove her wrong. (This was originally supposed to be a drabble for @tickle-bugs using the sentences “Now, that was interesting" and "That's just a roundabout way of saying 'I like it'" and yet, it's turned into a 1.8k words-length fic. This one is weirdly canon-divergent, because I didn't want it to be too spoiler-y for Bug who had just started the show when they sent the prompt eons ago, so just...I don't know, roll with it? Hope you enjoy!!)

"He's boring," Catherine tells Marial as she dresses in her bedclothes. "We have absolutely nothing in common. I am a woman of science, art, and philosophy. And he, well..."

"Is a man of food, fights, and fucking?" Marial replies.

"Exactly! He does not interest me. He is rather handsome, but he seems as though there's nothing beneath the surface." Catherine sighs, flopping back against her mattress. Her marriage to Peter has gotten off to a rather rocky start, and that's putting it lightly. They've come to a sort of standstill, now, tolerating one another, but not quite getting along.

"Men rarely have much lingering beneath the surface," Marial says. "I know you wished for a great love when you came here, but clearly Peter is...not that person. He could be a great person to kill, but not love."

A month ago, Catherine would have jumped for the chance to slit her husband's throat, but now, after seeing him almost die from that poisoning attempt...She isn't sure killing him is the right thing to do. Maybe growing closer to him is better. If she were to kill him, Orlo says that her whole scheme would blow up in her face. Abdication is the goal, and for him to abdicate...He should at the very least be susceptible to her charms, should he not?

She frowns, staring at the canopy of her bed. "Goodnight, Marial."

"Goodnight, Empress," Marial says, giving a sarcastic little curtsey that does manage to make Catherine's frown falter into a smile.

The next morning at breakfast, she voices her concerns to her husband. "I do not find you interesting," she says, rather bluntly. "Nor do we have anything in common. How is a marriage supposed to flourish if we have nothing to speak of?"

Peter stops stabbing at his food and looks up at her, confused. "What do you mean? I am a very interesting person.. I have many hobbies, some incredible stories to share.”

"And yet, I do not wish to hear about hunting or your sex with Georgina," she replies, tone laced with snark.

Peter chuckles. "Then what would you like to discuss? The importance of women's education? The work of some European philosopher I don't care to read?"

"And that's exactly it! You don't care to read, nor learn, nor get to know me and the things that I care about," she says. She stands, moving from her end of the table to sit directly beside him. "If I am to be your wife, to bear your children, do I not deserve the common decency of you giving a single shit about me?"

Peter seems surprised by her outburst. He clears his throat, then asks, "What's your favorite color?"

She blinks at him in surprise. "Blue. Any shade, really. My mother says it brings out my eyes when I wear it. Yours?"

"I've always been partial to green. Perhaps because it reminds me of the forest, hunting with my father in the early autumn, just before the leaves have started to change," he replies. "There. We've learned something about each other. Now, you ask me something."

"What is your favorite book?"

"I don't know that I have one," he says. "I have admittedly never read much for pleasure. I did my studies as instructed, but never went out of my way to read something I was not required to. Not the answer you were hoping for, but the truth. And yours?"

"Diderot's Philosophical Thoughts," Catherine responds without a second thought. "I've read it nearly fifteen times."

"I knew it would be something of the sort," he says, his smile almost fond.

They spend the next half hour going back and forth, asking one another questions: Their favorite foods, stories about their childhoods. Catherine tells him of her sisters, her love for strawberries, and her childhood fear of large dogs. He tells her of his friendship with Grigor, his first broken bone, and his love of truffles.

When it’s Peter’s turn to ask a question again, he ponders for a bit before saying, “Are you ticklish?”

Vodka almost comes out of Catherine’s nose, and she cringes at the sting, coughing. “What? That’s…A childish question,” she replies, feeling her cheeks go pink.

“And yet, you seem to think me childish anyway, so why not ask?” he challenges. There’s a mischievous glint in his eye that makes her heart skip a beat.

“Most people are,” Catherine says, choosing her words carefully. “At least, in my experience. There isn’t much science on the subject, but even Shakespeare speaks of it.”

“So, you are.”

“I didn’t say that, I just said…”

Peter’s hand reaches towards her, and she tries to bat it away with quite a bit of force, but he easily avoids her dainty hands and catches her side, squeezing it once before she jolts away with a muffled sound in her throat, something like a laugh.

“Now, that was interesting,” he says, grinning.

Catherine’s eyes narrow. “Don’t you have duties to attend to, dear husband?”

“Oh, but this matter seems much more pressing…”

Catherine is about to stand and run from the room when Elizabeth enters, saving her with her demand that Peter go attend to those aforementioned duties.

“This isn’t over,” he tells her, shooting her a wink before departing from the room.

Catherine sits at the table for another moment, stunned, cheeks flushed and something fluttering in her belly. Normally, being with Peter fills her with disdain, disgust. Now, she just feels…Flustered. And yet, somehow lighter than she had felt last night, wallowing in self-pity about her ass of a husband. Yes, he is still an ass, but…They’ve just genuinely bonded for what feels like the first time, and the realization that Peter is not all awful has struck her like a brick to the face.

Later, she tells Marial of their talk.

“Just because he can recall warm, fuzzy memories of his childhood doesn’t mean he isn’t awful,” Marial scoffs.

“I know that, but…It was different. We were almost getting along. Until he tried to tickle me, which I found rather unpleasant,” Catherine says, face scrunched in thought.

Marial snorts. “Is that the method I’ll have to use when you won’t listen to my incredibly intelligent advice?”

Catherine gives her arm a playful swat. “Not if you want to stay on my good side.”

After Marial leaves, again, she finds herself staring at the ceiling, hands crossed over her belly as she ponders her future. Could she love Peter? It could be possible, she supposes that many things are possible.

The next morning, she sits at his breakfast table alone. She assumes he is hungover, or still drunk, or busy sleeping with someone else when he is not punctual, as food is the only thing he’s ever on time for. She huffs, choosing to thumb through a book while she waits for him.

She isn’t waiting long though, because after a moment, she feels a presence behind her, and before she can turn to see who it is, two hands have grabbed her sides and danced their fingers upward, making a quite undignified squeak burst from her lips.

Her book flops shut on the table as she whips around to see her husband, chuckling at his own jape.

“What was that for?” she asks, feeling the strong desire to hit him. Or kiss him. She isn’t quite sure which, but she hopes it's the former.

“To prove the answer to the question you were so determined to avoid yesterday,” he replies, waltzing over to his seat.

Catherine feels her cheeks redden again and rolls her eyes. “You are insufferable. And what about you, hm?”

Peter smirks. “Most people are,” he echoes her words from yesterday.

He’s about to call for food to be brought in when Catherine jumps from her chair and moves towards him, hands flying as she pokes and prods at every bit of him.

“What are you doing?” he asks, and he’s sort of laughing, but she suspects it’s more at her than anything else.

“Trying to tickle you,” she replies.

“Oh, come on, you can do better than that,” he says. “You’re just jabbing me in the chest, that’s not exactly effective—ah!”

Catherine grins triumphantly as she finds a spot on his ribs that makes him react. He had sort of scribbled his fingers on her, so she mimics the same thing on his ribs, and suddenly, her husband, the Emperor, is giggling like a child and nearly sliding out of his chair to avoid her.

She hasn’t tickled anyone since she was young, probably rough-housing with her sisters, only to be quickly reprimanded. She forgot how powerful it feels, how ridiculously silly and yet oddly invigorating.

Peter’s laugh is softer, higher in pitch that she’d imagined it could be. She’s heard him laugh many times before, but never quite so…freely. She’s so lost in the sound that she’s startled when he grabs ahold of her wrists and shoves them away.

At first, she thinks he’s angry, but he’s all red-faced and smiling and he looks…sort of adorable?

“You are a cruel woman, tormenting a man before he’s had his breakfast,” he says, breathless.

“As I recall, it’s your fault we haven’t eaten yet,” she replies, taking a seat beside him.

And so, the food comes, and they eat, mostly in silence, until Catherine speaks up again.

“You could have pushed me away much sooner. Why didn’t you?” she asks.

Peter doesn’t look up from his plate. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says, but it’s not very convincing.

“Oh, because you’ve been so gentle with me in the past,” she says. It’s a low blow, and she knows it, because it makes him look up. Instead of looking pissed, he looks almost sad, embarrassed even.

“Well, when we spoke of our childhoods the other day, yours didn’t seem…very fun,” he replies. “I never realized how differently women are raised. Even with all those sisters, you didn’t speak of any wrestling or playfulness. I thought I’d give you a bit more experience.”

Catherine is torn between offense at his implication that her childhood wasn’t fun, and touched at the sentiment. “I suppose that’s sweet.”

“And, I mean, I don’t exactly mind having your hands on me, in any capacity,” he adds. “Even if it’s in a non-sexual, sort of torturous way.”

"That's just a roundabout way of saying 'I like it'," Catherine replies, smirking.

Peter doesn’t argue, he just smiles and shoves an entire sausage into his mouth, which makes her avert her eyes in disgust, but she’s smiling, too.

When she returns to her apartments with a spring in her step, Marial is already concerned.

Catherine is too busy pondering more things she’d like to learn about her husband than to listen to her friend’s ramblings. While Russia is her great love, she’s beginning to wonder if Peter still has a place in that future. She hopes there is.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Dancing Around Shadows

Shadow City AU - Chapter Three

A JSE Fanfic

Once again, I did not expect to post another chapter of this so soon, but I've been so busy this week that I haven't been able to even start on the fic I originally had planned. Remember, this AU is not going to be posted regularly, basically just when I'm not able to complete a chapter for one of my other four stories for some reason. Which is so true this week. But it's been a fun sort of busy ^-^

In this chapter, Marvin is running his shop when JJ stops by again, and he decides to try something to get to know him better. Ever heard of reading the cards? At about the same time, Schneep is visited by Jackie, who wants him to come confirm something. It seems like both these encounters are centered around a certain someone... Hmm... Have fun reading :D

First Chapter | Second Chapter

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“Oh hey, you’re back.” Marvin looked up from his book as the door to his shop opened. It was that vampire from last night, Jameson. Or JJ, Marvin supposed. If he was going to be a regular customer, which he might, he should give him a nickname. 

Jameson looked over at Marvin and nodded. I hope you don’t mind that I’ll probably be looking around and not buying anything, he said.

“Just don’t be too noisy and it’ll be no problem,” Marvin said.

JJ chuckled—or, at least, Marvin assumed that’s what that wheezing sound was. He started browsing the shelves, looking at all the little items. Marvin watched him for a moment, then returned to what he was doing. He was leaning back in the chair of one of the tables, reading. The book was propped up and he scanned it casually. On his lap was, unsurprisingly, a cat. This one was his tortoiseshell called Sam. She was very soft and fun to pet, but honestly Marvin had been sitting here a while and his butt was starting to hurt. But he wasn’t about to disturb her.

A while passed. Marvin continued to read, occasionally getting distracted by Sam shifting her weight on his lap. He put the book down for a moment to stretch his arms—and jumped back in surprise because Jameson was suddenly right in front of him. “Holy shit!” he shouted, and that combined with his startle caused Sam to wake up and jump off his lap.

Sorry! JJ signed, jerking backwards. He looked down at Sam as she ran off. I didn’t mean to scare you or your cat.

“No, no, it’s fine, it’s just... fucking hell.” Marvin shook his head. “I didn’t hear you at all.”

Sorry, Jameson said again. I just wanted to ask you if I could read some of these books without buying them. I promise I won’t take any.

“Nah, I’m not worried about that.” Marvin waved off his concern. “You can read all you want. But like I said, I’m not sure how much use they’ll be to a vampire. They’re mostly spell books and shit.”

They’re not ALL spell books, Jameson pointed out. You have a lot of history books.

“Not as many as the library, but I do make do.” Marvin shrugged. “Honestly? The history books aren’t my favorite.” He picked up his own book again. In his surprise, he’d lost his place, so he searched through the pages to find where he was.

Jameson glanced down at the cover of said book. He raised an eyebrow. That’s an... interesting book.

“Hmm?” Marvin looked at the cover as well—and laughed. The front cover of the book featured a woman in inaccurate Victorian fashion swooning in the arms of a buff, shirtless man. “What? Have something against romance?”

No, that’s not it, I just... you didn’t seem the type to... read something like that, Jameson signed slowly. But I suppose I don’t know you that well...

“No, you’re right, I’m not exactly the target demographic, am I?” Marvin found the spot where he’d left off and picked up a bookmark from the table, sliding it in. “But I don’t read these books cause I’m, like, genuinely interested in it. I’m not really a romantic person, you’re right. Some of them are good, but most are kinda mid. I like to, uh... study them, I guess you could say. Sort of like ‘oh, so this is what people are into,’ you know? It’s fascinating. And when I find one of these books that features vamps or wolves, I like to share it with some friends of mine.” He grinned. “The way they cringe is hilarious.”

I see. Jameson nodded. I’m guessing you don’t sell those here.

“Maybe I could... People would definitely buy them.” Marvin tilted his head to the side. “Nah, it doesn’t really fit with the rest of all this.” He gestured at the shop.

Jameson looked around and nodded. Yes, everything here is magical, isn’t it? Supplies and such. Are there really enough witches in this city to run a business like this? Do you get many sales?

“Uh... I mean, I guess not? Enough to pay my bills and buy the occasional fun stuff. Oh, and the cat stuff, too.” Sam was approaching him again, and Marvin leaned down to give her pets before she walked right past him. “The supplies are the bestsellers, followed by my spell commissions and card readings.”

Jameson nodded. You... mentioned spells and card readings last night. So... if I wanted you to cast a spell, I could pay you to do so?

Marvin grinned. “Yep. I’m the strongest witch in the city, my spells are in high demand.”

JJ raised an eyebrow. Really?

“Of course!” Marvin chuckled. “Not only do vamps, wolves, and knowing everydays come here for my spells, but so do less powerful witches.”

If you’re so powerful, why are you running a little magic shop instead of doing something more... JJ paused. He gestured vaguely. Just “more,” I suppose.

“Like, what? Being a witch representative on the Night Council?” Marvin made a face. “Cause I don’t want to.”

JJ laughed another one of his silent, wheezing laughs.

“I’m serious. Too much responsibility, you know? And I bet I don’t get to do fun stuff like card readings if I was doing that.”

Alright, alright, it’s your life. And running a shop is surely difficult enough.

“Yep.” Marvin nodded. “What about you? You just moved here, right? Are you planning on blending in with the everdays or are you going to keep lurking in the shadows?”

Jameson hesitated. Some sort of emotion flashed across his face, too quick for Marvin to identify. I’m not sure... we might leave again, but it’s hard to tell when. So... not blending in. I hope I can get to know some of the shadowed community here, though.

“There are plenty of hidden places, you know,” Marvin said. “If you need money and want to meet people, you could work at one of them. I hear the library is always looking for help.”

Jameson didn’t say anything for a while. That emotion from before returned, lingering a little. Was it... sadness? Marvin hesitated, unsure what to say in response to that... and then Jameson changed the subject. You mentioned card readings, as well? You mean like tarot?

“Oh!” Marvin blinked. “Y-yeah, tarot. I, uh... I like to do readings for people. You, uh... do you know about the arcanas? It’s hard to tell with you vamps, I I don’t know how long you’ve been around or what you learned in that time.”

I never paid too much attention to tarot, I’ll admit, Jameson said. What sort of readings do you do?

Marvin smiled. It wavered at first; he wasn’t sure if he should address the sadness he saw on Jameson’s face. But then it steadied out. It was probably fine. Or at the very least, it wasn’t something he should get into with a guy he’s only had two conversations with. At least he got to talk about cards now. “All sorts! Fortune readings, life readings, love readings, personality assessments—a couple times I’ve done searches for people but if you want one of those I have to put a truth spell on you, to make sure that you’re not looking for something for nefarious reasons.”

Jameson nodded along. What’s a personality assessment?

Marvin’s eyes lit up. “Would you like to find out? I can give you one right now if you want!”

Jameson blinked, surprised at Marvin’s sudden enthusiasm. I don’t know... how much would it cost?

“I’ll give you one for free!” Marvin said excitedly. “That way you can see a card reading firsthand. And then mayyyybe you’ll want to pay for another one?”

How devious, Jameson said, smiling slightly. Alright, I’ll try one out. I’m curious, and I don’t have anything else to do tonight.

“Great!” Marvin stood up and hurried over to the counter at the back. He scooped up his mask and two decks of cards. Turning around, he held up the decks for Jameson to see. One had green backs with elaborate golden lines forming patterns. The other had blue backs with silver lines that made a central circular design, like an eye, with angular, crystalline patterns around the edges. “Traditional cards or crystaleye arcana?”

Jameson blinked. I didn’t know you could do card readings with regular cards. And I’ve never heard of... “crystal eye.”

“Oh, let’s show you a crystaleye reading, then!” Marvin said excitedly. “This arcana isn’t as popular as the traditional French tarot, or even the lesser-known Thoth arcana, but I think you can get some interesting readings from it! And yes, you can do readings with regular cards. They’re best for simple questions.”

I see, Jameson said. Well, I’ll trust your judgment, then.

“Ah yes, judgment, like the popular Judgment card—” Marvin broke off, laughing. “I’m sorry, I see card names everywhere.” He returned to the table, sitting down. He pulled his mask down—he didn’t need it for the reading, but he did think it made him look mysterious and cool—and shuffled the crystaleye deck. Then he spread them out on the table between him and Jameson.

How does this work? Jameson asked.

“You’re going to choose five cards, one at a time,” Marvin explained. “For this first one, while you’re picking out the card, think about how other people see you, especially your friends and family. Choose one that you feel drawn to.”

JJ’s brow furrowed. He reached out, hands hovering over the line of cards, moving back and forth before he pulled out one at the end, flipping it over. The card had an illustration of a young man in an elaborate patterned shirt, with a bag on a stick slung over his shoulder. It was facing Jameson, not Marvin—meaning it was reversed in the tarot arcana. I know this one, he said. It’s a fool, right?

“The Fool, yes.” Marvin nodded. “It usually stands for new beginnings, and when representing a person, it means someone who’s a free spirit. But when it’s reversed like this, it means someone who’s too naive, who’s easy to take advantage of. So... the people who know you might not, uh, have the... highest opinion of you.” He tried to be gentle about it. “Not necessarily in a malicious way. They might just underestimate you.”

Jameson smiled a wan smile. I see... that does make sense.

“I’d uh... probably think a lot about your relationships,” Marvin said.

That same flicker of sadness appeared on Jameson’s face. What’s next, then? he asked, moving on.

Marvin cleared his throat. “For this next one, think of what you do.”

What I do? JJ repeated.

“You know, hobbies and your job and stuff,” Marvin explained. “Well, I guess you don’t have a job right now, but you know what I mean. Think about this as you choose the second card.”

Jameson nodded. He pushed the reversed Fool to the side and reached for the cards. After a moment, he pulled out one from the center, flipping it over to show an illustration of a thick forest, with a hooded human figure walking through the trees.

“Oh, the Wanderer,” Marvin said. “This card means aimlessness, or being lost.” He paused. “You... probably don’t have much going on, then? Or maybe you’re unsure what to do?”

A second passed. Jameson nodded slowly. I suppose I’m not... actively practicing any hobbies.

“Well that sucks,” Marvin said bluntly. “Especially for a vampire. You guys live for like, forever. You have to have hobbies to keep from going crazy.”

Jameson chuckled silently.

“No, for real. Was there anything you used to do that you stopped doing? Maybe you should pick it up again, see how you feel about it now. Or, uh, try something new! Doesn’t have to be completely new, it could be similar to something you already know. Like, uh, if you know how to knit, maybe learn how to crochet.”

Do I look like the type of person who knows how to knit? JJ asked. He wasn’t offended by Marvin’s statement. More amused than anything.

“It’s just an example,” Marvin said.

I know, I know. Jameson smiled. Thank you. I’ll think about things. Shall we move on?

“Sure. For the third card...” Marvin paused. He was always unsure how to explain this one. Or, to be more specific, he was never sure if other people would understand what he meant. “When choosing it, think about your... power. Your capabilities. What you are able to do. You know?”

Luckily, Jameson seemed to understand right away. He looked at the cards, then pulled one out. This one had an image of a clock face, surrounded by stars, with a purple and blue background swirling around it as if drawn to the clock. It also came out reversed.

“Oh, Time!” Marvin said, surprised. 

JJ blinked. Is that an unusual card to draw?

“Well, when I’ve done personality assessments for vampires before, they usually get Silence or the Faceless, occasionally one of the disaster-based cards like Wildfire,” Marvin explained. “Time is one of the later cards in the journey. When upright in this sort of reading, it would mean someone who’s very capable, always able to move forward regardless of obstacles. But yours came out reversed... Hmm...” He bit his lip, thinking. “Maybe... you’re not able to reach your full potential right now. Something is stopping you. Do you feel... trapped, in some aspect of your life?”

Jameson tensed slightly. So... a personality assessment is meant to make you think about yourself and your life, then?

“Basically, yeah,” Marvin said, noticing that Jameson didn’t answer. Well, maybe he wasn’t comfortable. He shouldn’t pry. “Are you ready to move on?”

Yes please, Jameson said.

“Alright. Second to last one,” Marvin said. “Think about your past. Who you used to be, how different you are now, and how it's all shaped you.” This would be very interesting to see. It always was, with people who’d lived a long time.

JJ tilted his head to the side. He spent a while trying to find one this time, hand moving back and forth, occasionally reaching for one before drawing back. Finally, he picked out a card, flipping it over to reveal another reversed card. This one was an illustration of a man and a woman, standing underneath a tree.

“The Lovers,” Marvin said. “The reversed Lovers. I see. The upright Lovers represents duality and trust, so naturally the reversed version means the opposite. Oh, did I explain that? That if it’s upside down it means the opposite of what it usually does?”

JJ smiled. You didn’t, but I figured it out from context. Though the smile was meant to convey lightheartedness, it soon faded to a more serious expression. Let me guess. It means distrust, doesn’t it?

“Yep,” Marvin confirmed. “Imbalance, disharmony, one-sidedness... Your past has been defined by conflicted relationships. Or... maybe just one conflicted relationship? You would know better than me.”

Again, a flash of emotion. Not sadness this time. It actually looked like Jameson was annoyed at something.

An idea came to Marvin, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “Your roommate, maybe?”

Jameson jumped in surprise. Then his shoulders slumped. I told you about him yesterday, didn’t I?

“Mentioned it vaguely... sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it up, I just—” Marvin cleared his throat. “Anyway. Now for the finale.” He flashed a grin. “Think of the opposite of yourself. The type of person you would never want to be. The worst parts of yourself embodied.”

JJ nodded. He reached for a card right away, clearly not thinking too much about it. When he flipped it over, the illustration was that of a person. Though the background was dark, they were a pure black silhouette that stood out even against the shadows, edged in violet magic with glowing acid green eyes.

“The Void!” Marvin said cheerfully.

You sound too happy for such an ominous card, JJ said, grinning.

“Well, for a reason. The Void, sometimes called the Monster, represents... well, a bunch of bad stuff. Pain, aggression, some say ‘evil’ but I think that simplifies it too much.” Marvin began pushing the other cards, the ones that Jameson didn’t choose, back into a deck. “Basically, if this is who you don’t want to be, then you’re probably a really good person. You don’t want to hurt people. Which is good to know! But, uh, probably makes being a vampire a bit difficult.”

Jameson sighed. Well... yes, I knew this. But I’ve gotten... used to it.

“Hmm. You’ve been in town for a week, right?” Marvin looked at him. “Do you... know where the blood banks are?”

Jameson shook his head slowly.

“Where have you been eating, then?” Marvin asked gently.

My roommate... brought something home once, Jameson said slowly.

“Do you want to talk about that?” Marvin asked.

You probably wouldn’t want to hear about it, Jameson said. It wasn’t pleasant. His eyes widened. But don’t worry, nobody died! he added hurriedly.

“I didn’t think they did,” Marvin reassured him. “Just... be careful, okay? The Scuabyrg Night Council is a bit stricter on harming everydays than other Councils. Tell your roommate that, too. Though I don’t know if they’ll listen if they’re the sort to... Just, be careful.” He glanced around. “I have maps of the city in here, maps with all the hidden places marked. I know the blood banks are on there. How about I get you one of those?”

JJ nodded. That would be appreciated.

“Great.” Marvin grabbed the five cards Jameson had drawn, putting them back into the deck. Then he stood up, walked around the back counter again, put his cards back, then pulled a folded sheet of paper from a folder hanging on the wall. “It looks like an ordinary street map most of the time. To activate the hidden marks, write the word ‘reveal’ on the paper. You can do it with a pen if you want, the ink will disappear, but just tracing it with your finger would be fine, too. Write ‘hide’ to deactivate the marks again.”

As he talked, Jameson got up and walked over to the counter as well. He reached into his pocket and took out... a wallet. That’s definitely a wallet. He set it down on the counter and signed, How much?

“Oh no, free of charge,” Marvin said.

JJ shook his head. At least let me tip you or something. You already gave me a free card reading.

Marvin hesitated. Then nodded. “Well... give me what you can afford. And no more than that.”

JJ smiled, a hint of his teeth peeking out from between his lips. He opened up the wallet, rummaged around, and took out some coins, setting them down on the counter. Marvin picked them up. Six one-pound coins. I’m sorry, I don’t have any notes, Jameson said.

“It’s fine,” Marvin reassured him. “You don’t have to pay anything, like I said.” Honestly, he usually charged five pounds for the maps, anyway, so JJ was already giving him extra.

I know, but... you’ve been kind, and I appreciate that, Jameson said slowly.

“Just trying to do... what I do.” Marvin laughed awkwardly. “Here.” He handed Jameson the map.

JJ put his wallet away and accepted the map. I’ll be going now. But I might be back tomorrow night, or the night after.

“I’ll see you then, then!” Marvin said, smiling.

Jameson nodded. Then he turned around and headed out, weaving around the tables to keep a distance from the cats. He clearly didn’t want to scare them.

Marvin opened up the till and put the coins away. While he did that, Sam hopped up onto the counter, followed shortly by Higgins. He reached out and petted them both, one at a time. “What d’you two think of him?” he asked.

The cats purred in unison. Sam’s purring was slightly scratchier than Higgins’.

“Well, if you guys like him, I like him,” Marvin said. He looked out the shop’s front windows. “Wonder what’s up with him. I think he’s had a... complicated life. But, uh, then again, a lot of vampires have. Since they live for a while. But you know what I mean. More complicated than usual.” He sighed. “What d’you think I should do about that?”

Sam yawned and sat down, loafing. Higgins stretched.

“Yeah... I should, shouldn’t I?” Marvin muttered. “If only to hear more about that roommate of his. He sounds like an asshole. Someone to keep an eye on.” He paused. “Besides... he said he’ll be back, anyway. He seems nice. But... sad. I wonder... wonder if there’s anything I could do...” He trailed off, expression becoming thoughtful. Then, after a moment, he shook his head. “Well. Back to it, I guess.”

He walked back over to the table and sat down, picking up his book once again.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

St. Damian’s Hospital was well-known for its in-house medical lab, where you could get tests done without having to send them off to a specialized place. And of all the tests the lab ran, most of them involved blood. Checking for blood diseases, various deficiencies, illnesses, just about everything a blood sample could go through could be done at St. Damian’s.

So was it really that surprising that vampires worked there?

Okay, there weren’t many vampires. There were ten, exactly, working in different positions at the hospital. There were also twelve witches whose magic was focused on healing or the human body, four werewolves, and dozens of ghosts (surprisingly, none of them were patients in life, but instead people who’d worked there and developed a strong emotional attachment to their jobs.) After all, the shadow world needed medical professionals, too.

Of the ten vampires who worked at St. Damian’s, Schneep was the only one with a particular special ability. Not because it was any special vampiric power he had. No, this was a skill he’d developed over the past fifteen years. It made him very valuable to the hospital... but it was difficult to explain it away a lot of the time.

“Dr. Schneeplestein?” A voice called through the door, knocking on its surface. “Are you in there?”

“Ah—just a moment!” Schneep glanced towards the locked door, then turned his attention back to the samples before him. He twisted off the lid of one and—again glancing towards the door—raised it to his mouth, sipping the blood inside. He paused for a moment, considering the bloodtaste. His nose wrinkled a bit. Definitely some sort of anemia. Low amounts of B12. He made a note of that on the computer and put the sample back.

Knock knock knock. “Dr. Schneeplestein?” The voice repeated. “Uh... you can’t lock the lab door while the hospital is open.”

“I know, I know!” Schneep said, picking up another sample. This person must be new, if they aren’t familiar with his habits. But still, he was running out of time. He opened another sample and took a sip—and instantly spat it back into the sample tube. Well... that was contaminated now. More than the samples usually were once he “tested” them. But he couldn’t help it; he really hated the bloodtaste of clotting blood. He quickly made a note of that on the computer, adding that the patient should start taking anticoagulants. Soon.

Knock knock knock knock knock. “Dr. Schneeplestein! Really!” This was a second voice, a familiar one. Miranda, one of the phlebologists. “You can’t keep doing this!”

“I need concentration!” Schneep snapped. He picked up the last sample and sipped it. Hmm... this wasn’t too unusual. He took a second sip, just in case. No, nothing strange in the bloodtaste here. It was possible he was missing something, but he hadn’t missed something in a long time. He set it aside for more testing later, making a note to have Lemoine do it—one of the other vampires in the hospital, one who knew how to compensate for the contamination of Schneep’s tests.

“We’re coming in!” Miranda shouted. “I have the keys!”

“Alright, alright!” Schneep got out of the swivel stool and hurried over to the lab door, opening it up. Miranda had a ring of keys in her hands, ready to unlock the door. Next to her was a hospital staff member Schneep didn’t recognize—one who looked human, like Miranda was, but for all Schneep knew this new staff member could be another witch. Probably not, though. The others would’ve mentioned that. “You may have the lab.”

“Oh, may we?” Miranda raised an eyebrow. “May we use this public space?”

“It is not public.”

“You know what I mean.” Miranda put her keys away. “We didn’t actually want to use the lab. We were looking for you.” She jerked her head towards the other staff member. “Or, Cody was looking for you.”

“I see.” Schneep took a good look at the other man—Cody, apparently. He was wearing scrubs and a nametag, which meant he was a nurse. “Are you new here?”

“Y-yes,” Cody said, nodding. “Are—are you?”

Schneep raised an eyebrow. “I have worked here for nine years.”

“Oh right! Of—of course! I, uh—” Cody shook his head. “Wait no! Th-this is important! There’s someone who’s, uh, asking for you?”

“Really?” Schneep straightened to attention. “I don’t have any appointment scheduled, do I?”

“N-no, it’s, uh—It’s not a patient, I think, it’s... a visitor? He said to come soon?”

“A visitor? Who?” Schneep asked.

“I... didn’t get a name,” Cody admitted.

“Hmm... wait.” Schneep narrowed his eyes. “Is it a man with brown hair and blue eyes?”

“Yes.” Cody nodded.

“Short or long?”

“Uh—short?”

“Wearing a red hoodie?”

“Yeah.”

Schneep sighed. “I know him. That is my friend Jackie. If he is here, it is probably not too urgent. But I will go, anyway. Where is he?”

“Here, uh, I can take you to him,” Cody said. He glanced at Miranda. “Uh, thanks again.”

“No problem.” Miranda nodded. She must have had to help Cody find him.

“Lead the way, then,” Schneep said, gesturing for Cody to start walking.

A few minutes, a couple hallways, and one elevator ride later, they arrived in one of the overnight wards for patients to stay at. Schneep frowned, confused why Jackie would be here if he wasn’t a patient. Visiting someone, maybe? But who— “There you are!” Jackie was waiting by the nurse’s station on this floor. The moment he saw Schneep he ran on over, skidding to a halt inches from him. “That took forever! What the hell?!”

Schneep noticed Cody turning red with embarrassment, and he quickly said, “You sent for me while I was in the middle of running some tests, Jackie. Did you not consider that?”

“Ah, sorry. But this is important!” Jackie insisted.

“Why is it so important?” Schneep asked.

“Here, c’mon! I’ll show you!” Jackie grabbed Schneep by the wrist and immediately began pulling him down the hall. Schneep yelped, but didn’t pull away, only hurried to keep pace with him.

Jackie took him to a room at the end of the hallway, opening the door and dragging him inside. “I found him! See, I told you he’d be here!”

Schneep looked around the room. This was only built for one patient—as most of the rooms in this ward were—with a single bed, a tiny bathroom, a wall-mounted TV, and a wide window showing the night sky outside. It was a small room, but it was absolutely crowded. Schneep glanced around, counting six people standing around and two sitting in the chairs that came with the room. He recognized most of them, though he didn’t know their names off the top of his head. “Ah... hello, Heartwoods pack,” he said. 

The others all responded with a chorus of hellos.

“Everyone, this is Henrik,” Jackie said. “I dunno if all of you have met him. Schneep, this is Lily, Nao, Kelly, Cass, Russell, Paul, and Ishani. And, of course, Leo.” He pointed at the bed, where a man with dark hair and green-gray eyes was sitting. His arms were covered in bandages, and there was some padding under his hospital gown where there were, no doubt, more bandages. Leo raised his hand and waved.

“Pleasure to see you all again,” Schneep said. “And to get a reminder on your names—thank you Jackie. Now, ah... why am I here?”

Lily raised an eyebrow. “Jackie, you didn’t tell him on the way here?”

“Well it was too important!” Jackie insisted.

Schneep sighed. Then he looked at the last person in the room, the only one who had not been introduced. “And, ah... who are you? Are you the ‘new guy’ they have all been talking about?”

“Not exactly.” The man sitting in the armchair shook his head. “My name is Arthur Griffith, I’m a night guardian.”

“Oh!” Schneep started. 

“A pleasure to meet you.” Arthur stood up, holding out his hand for a shake. He was tall and thin, all a solid straight line. His brown hair was combed back, revealing white streaks near the temples, and his face was framed with a pointed beard. His eyes were an unnatural silver color—a sign of magic.

“Ah, yes, the same.” Schneep shook his hand. “How can I help you?”

“Well.” Arthur nodded at Leo. “If you would mind telling the story again, Mr. Barclay.”

“Uh... alright.” Leo looked over at Schneep. “So... you’re that vampire that Jackie’s always going on about?”

“W-wait a moment!” Schneep turned around and grabbed the door, pulling it closed. “Be careful.”

“Oh shit! Sorry.” Leo had the grace to look a bit guilty. “Didn’t think.”

“Not a problem,” Schneep said. “Anyway, yes, I am that vampire that Jackie’s always going on about.” He looked over at Jackie as he said this. “Hopefully he has said good things.”

“All good things!” Jackie said. “Or funny things!”

“What ‘funny things’?”

“Like that time you drank five currant heart cocktails and started chewing on that candle—”

“Heyheyheyheyhey!” Schneep covered Jackie’s mouth. “I thought we agreed to keep that between us!”

Jackie pushed his arm away. “Oh come on, like Marvin hasn’t told some of his regulars by this point.”

“I bet he hasn’t!”

Arthur cleared his throat. “Can we get back to the story?”

“Sorry!” Jackie said. “Go on, Leo.”

Leo nodded. “Well, uh... I had work yesterday. I wanted to leave early so I could come join the others for Bryson’s first day transformation—that’s, uh, the newest member of our pack, he’s great. But anyway, I couldn’t leave early. My boss insisted that I stay back to do inventory, like, right then. So by the time I could finally leave, the sun had set. I knew that the others would be coming back soon so I headed back to the apartment. But... when I was almost there, I was...” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “Attacked.”

Some of the wolves growled protectively, Jackie included.

“Oh... I-I see,” Schneep said, eyes flicking over the bandages. “I am so sorry. Who... o-or what... was it?”

“A wolf,” Leo said. “A black wolf. Not a werewolf, it was too small. But it was too smart to be an escaped zoo animal or something. And... surprisingly vicious, too. As you can see.” He reached over and pulled back one of the bandages—or at least started to, before Nao reached over and stopped him. “I was able to fight them off long enough to get away and start heading back to the flats.”

“I am glad to hear that,” Schneep said. “But... I must ask, why am I here?”

Jackie looked at Leo. “What did the guy smell like, again? What was the scent?”

“Well... something chemically,” Leo said slowly. “Reminded me of death.”

“Formaldehyde, right?” Jackie insisted.

“I... guess? I’ve never smelled formaldehyde.”

“Jackie, why are you so hung up on the scent of the attacker?” one of the wolves, Ishani, asked.

“Because!” Jackie looked over at Schneep. “When you got jumped by that guy, the one who stole your wallet and you bit him? I got a whiff of his scent, and it was formaldehyde. If it was the same guy, then we can identify him!”

“Ah, I see.” Arthur nodded. “It also means that there might be a connection between the acts.”

“Or, at the very least, there’s a guy out there attacking people randomly!” Jackie said.

“Uh... the wolf didn’t take anything from me,” Leo pointed out. “But then again, I was also a wolf at the time, so, uh. Yeah.”

“Dr.... Schneepsein, was it?” Arthur said. “Please tell me what you remember about being attacked that night.”

“Ah... well, first, it is Dr. Schneeplestein,” Schneep corrected. “But yes, I would tell you everything... but I am not sure it will be much of use. I didn’t get a good look at the guy, and anything notable was already recorded in my report of the mugging to the Night Council.”

“Go over it again, please, Dr. Schneeplestein,” Arthur said. “Mr. Sheach was there, too, wasn’t he? He can add details as well.”

Jackie nodded. “C’mon, Schneep! If it’s the same guy, we can’t have them randomly attacking people.”

Schneep sighed. “Alright. I will tell you what I remember.”

There wasn’t much to tell, though. He and Jackie were walking home when someone suddenly swooped down from a lamp post and attacked Schneep. Jackie shifted and tried to stop them, Schneep bit them, and then they disappeared, taking Schneep’s wallet with him—which he was still upset about. His hospital ID was in there. He had to have someone open the hospital staff doors for him until his new one was ready. Which was really, really annoying.

“You’re sure it was another vampire?” Arthur asked, looking at Schneep intensely.

“As sure as I can be,” Schneep confirmed. “When I bit him, I tasted the blood. It was... Well, vampire blood is very... flat. Like, ah, soda when all the carbonation goes away. This blood was also flat in that same way, though there was an odd note to it.”

“Hmm... a note of what?” Arthur asked.

“It was like... like old,” Schneep said. “Like... fruit that was left out of the fridge for a couple days but hasn’t rotted. I think.” Vampires couldn’t eat solid food, so his memories of how certain foods tasted had grown a bit fuzzy over the past fifteen years. “Strangely heavy, too. A bit thicker than usual. But that could have just been because of blood the vampire recently drank. The old, flat taste was definitely his own bloodtaste.”

Arthur nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a spiral notebook. He opened it up to a blank page, tapped the center three times with his pointer finger, and silver lines spread out from the point of contact. Jackie leaned over... and saw a transcription of the conversation writing itself down. “You could’ve recorded it on your phone or something, you know,” he said.

“This is not just for me,” Arthur said. “A copy of this is appearing in the Archives at city hall right now.”

“...could’ve just... emailed an mp3 file or something...” Jackie muttered.

“We will definitely look into both these cases,” Arthur said. “Thank you very much, Mr. Barclay, Dr. Schneeplestein. Best wishes on your recovery, Mr. Barclay. If either of you remember anything, I trust you know where to go? The rest of you as well?”

Everyone nodded in comedic unison. Jackie and a few other wolves couldn’t help but laugh.

“Perhaps I’ll be seeing you around,” Arthur said. He bowed his head, then left the hospital room.

After a moment, Jackie turned to Schneep. “Thanks for coming down and sharing all that while you’re on the clock.”

“Oh, is not a problem, Jackie,” Schneep said. “I did not have much scheduled for today, anyway. I hope it helped.”

“Still. You said you were doing tests. Must’ve been... inconvenient.”

Schneep grinned. His fangs flashed in the artificial fluorescent light. “You know it does not take me nearly as long as the machines.” His smile fell. “Ah, though I need to dispose of the used samples quickly.”

“Go on back, dude,” Jackie said, patting his back. “I’ll see you later? Oh! Did Jack tell you about the thing with that ghost—”

“Yes, he did. I let him know which nights I’m free on. Or maybe he could wake me up early if it’s cloudy enough.” He hoped he didn’t, though. Even an overcast day was uncomfortable, especially considering he’d have to walk for at least part of the way. 

“Nah, Jack wouldn’t do that,” Jackie said. “I’ll see you then for sure, maybe before that. Text you and stuff.”

“See you later, Jackie,” Schneep said. “Goodbye, Heartwoods pack.”

The other wolves said a variety of goodbyes, and Schneep turned and left the room.

Could it be true? Was there really someone out there attacking people? A vampire who could turn into a wolf... they were not unheard of, though the vampiric power to shapeshift was pretty rare. What could this stranger want? He stole Schneep’s wallet, so maybe just money? But then he attacked a wolf... maybe he was just attacking random people. But if he was willing to attack other creatures of the night, he was definitely willing to attack the everydays. And if the everydays started noticing strange attacks... how long before they started noticing other strange things?

Schneep shivered. It would be fine. These might just be isolated incidents. The Night Council and the guardians would probably take care of this soon. There was nothing to worry about. He should focus on his work. There were more samples he had to test.

Slowly, he made his way back to the lab, where he buried himself in samples and tests for the rest of the night until his shift was over.

[honeyhotteoks]

your take on the d/s bdsm research is so valid!

while it's fun to write and sometimes people tend to play with it on a surface level, it's so interesting to see what it actually is like/means from a point of knowledge and research while not being in an actual relationship yourself.

i'm not the biggest fan of bdsm/ d/s fics because of what i read in the past and how triggering it can be, esp. if you dive into the non-con/dub-con realm which is, in itself, pretty blurry already and some people tend to belive d/s is just tying someone up, some spanks or being "mean" while it entails a whole background of love, knowing and trust.

it's really nice to see in your fics how your characters are so insistent on check-ins during, the colours, the safe words, the acknowledging if it's too much or if it was too rough, the aftercare and the tenderness of coming out of it and what it means for both parties, not only the sub but also the dom.

this got so long💀 but these are just some details i love about your works and it'll mean a lot if you could dive into what you read/found and give us a rundown

yours sincerely,

✨anon

ohhh this is a great question! honestly i would say even in my fic because most of the time when bd/sm comes up i’m writing a one-shot, i don’t get to include all the little details that i’d like to. that’s part of the reason i want to explore it in ITA 2 and a huge reason the husbands series exists at all to be honest, but there’s so much more room to write this well and i’d like to take on that challenge in the future.

as a small clarification - most of my bd/sm knowledge is gathered from research, a close friend who is in a formal d/s relationship, and my own relationship which while not formally d/s….. we’ve been together for 10 years and explored a lot of different dynamics and kinks including s/m.

i don’t have like a bank of resources or anything super concrete to share, but what i would say is that as you start to get to know bd/sm dynamics whether that’s in your personal life, your research, etc., you start to see portrayals as done responsibly or irresponsibly so quickly. a great example of this would be how much kindle unlimited i read, and i cannot tell you how many books write bd/sm completely irresponsibly. and then all of a sudden you run into the ones that do it so right that it could only be drawn from mountains of research or real life, and it’s like a breath of fresh air.

here’s a little list of things though that i try to keep in mind while writing formal bd/sm dynamics and things i look for when reading:

with the exception of very formal master/slave dynamics, doms aren’t “dominant” all the time and subs aren’t “submissive” all the time. there’s a thousand different ways to express that relationship and in my experience it’s not a copy/paste of rules for every d/s. how much or how little the d/s dynamics contribute to sexual and non sexual situations is entirely up to that couple (or polycule) and conversations about that have to happen on the page or at least be detailed and alluded to if past tense.

d/s doesn’t mean s/m, i.e. dom and sub doesn’t mean sadism and masochism inherently. when that is tangled up without any real understanding of character, i can tell it’s not researched or drawn from reality. for example, if we jump into extreme sadism just because the character is a dom and the explication for that is ‘because he’s a dom’….. i do not buy that for a second and think it’s irresponsible to write.

is the submissive experienced or not? is the dominant experienced or not? that should inform who’s guiding who, if they’re exploring together, what kind of mistakes might be made and acknowledged, what kind of pace the scene should follow, what anxieties might be present, etc. ….. in the kink community, one of the first things you’ll see and hear is a question about hard limits. there are people who will say “i have no limits” and that is a dead giveaway that they are either inexperienced and don’t know, or experienced and not responsible with limits. if i’m reading and i see that a brand new sub is only ever saying yes, no questions, they love everything (essentially the pick me of subs) then it feels extremely fake to me. everyone has limits, everyone has a mix of anticipation and anxiety when it comes to new sex acts or new partners, and ESPECIALLY when writing s&m it’s incredible irresponsible to pretend that isn’t the case.

doms aren’t 6’6” assholes in a power suits and subs aren’t brainless infantile barbies. there’s a million types of doms and a million types of subs, gender doesn’t inform it and there’s no ‘body type’ or ‘career’ or ‘personality’ that equals dom or sub. and being a dom or a sub sexually or within a romantic relationship doesn’t mean anything about who you are in your career, your friendships, etc. this could essentially be summed up as i like writing and reading characters that aren’t one dimensional, but specifically with bd/sm i think it’s fine to stick to norms but when it gets TOO tropey it starts to read as disingenuous.

consent isn’t a single question, it’s a constant conversation. it’s not just about the discussion of acts and interests and kinks, it’s about always being aware of each others limits and comforts, and then always being able to say slow down and stop and be respected. i intentionally write reader calling yellow often because it’s real, especially with something new. when it comes to reading, i love to see miscommunications or the use of red or safe words when written well because it opens up room for conversations about limits and consent.

aftercare is more than cuddling - i wrote this in my yunho aftercare post, but it bears repeating. aftercare is for both the sub and the dom and it’s more than just kisses and cuddles. it’s safety checks, it’s water, it’s massages, it’s vitamins, it’s food, it’s all the things you should say to ensure your partner feels safe, loved, etc. and sometimes it’s talking about what happened and determining that some or all of it might not be something you want to do again. that’s important and a good d/s relationship allows for this honesty and trust.

when it comes to sadism and masochism….. it’s about so much more than pain. when i see pain used as a tool for something emotional, then i know it’s written by someone more experienced or more researched. this is something i want to explore more in writing, and i’ll probably dig into more in another post sometime, but this is one of those things that is often mishandled but when it’s done right my god does it hit.

this isn’t a comprehensive list by any means, but these are things i think a lot about when i write and things that give me the ick immediately when i see them mishandled. if i haven’t reblogged a popular fic that has d/s dynamics or recommended a popular romance book that’s d/s….. it’s not because i don’t know about it, it’s because i didn’t feel comfortable with how the author handled it. that being said, i used to write that way too. after years of research, personal experience in my own life, and years of writing, this is something i think i’ve gotten much better handling and look forward to improving even more.

i hope that was interesting enough! i also want to make a note about what i mean when I say “irresponsible” - i think when bd/sm dynamics are written, if it’s not done with explicit conversations around consent and with a deep backbone of research into what these relationships are really like, you run the risk of writing abuse thinly veiled as bd/sm. whether that abuse is emotional or physical, when the only thing about the bd/sm relationship that is portrayed is the most extreme moment of a sex act, or the “meanness” of the dom, etc., all you’ve done is write something that is a breath away from dead dove content if not literal noncon. if that’s something you’re writing and tagging, i don’t judge whatsoever, i’ve read plenty of dead dove kink content, but if your intent is to write a healthy relationship that has bd/sm, you have to make sure you do that. people will walk away from fiction and think that’s what these relationships should be like, and all that does is let someone think it’s okay or part of the kink to be emotionally or physically abused.

long story short, be safe out there. if i ever write something you think treats bd/sm or consent in a way that isn’t responsible, i want to know.

[meili-sheep]

So on my No Bad End fic I mentioned doing a Crepus approval scale because It was the closest to the Diluc Harem I'll be writing so as a reminder

The Kaeya Scale of Approval Thoma (9.9) Wriothesley (8.5) Xiao (8.4) Itto (6) Eula (5.6) Al Haitham (4) Kaveh (3.5) Albedo (3) Childe (2.6) Ayato (1) Donna (0.5) Zhongli (0)

And now introducing!!

Crepus Scale of Approval!

So starting right at the top, kind of surprise to Kaeya is Al Haitham (9.0). So yeah he's not really a romantic type up he's got a stable job, a house. Good things. But what Crepus likes Is Al Haitham's very "Take care of myself first" mind set. He really wants that to rub of more on Diluc, and he's hoping that together they'll balance each other out.

Right under him is actually Zhongli (8.0) Because like Al Haitham he seems to have a stable job and is well respected in his community. Defiantly gets dinged point for forgetting his wallet. But he's respectful and treats Diluc well. Now if Crepus learns he's an Archon he gets a little torn because suddenly he feels like he's much too old for Crepus's baby, but Diluc deserves the best and how better can you be than a literal god?

After that is a tie with Wriothesley and Ayato (7.5) Like those above them, Crepus like their stable and high ranking positions. They both get dinged though because Crepus would be worrying too much about Diluc feeling like he was fighting for social standing.

Under those two is Albedo (7.3) He's got a lot of going for him, being a knight and having Alice's backing behind him. He just gets knocked down a lot of points because he's a weirdo. And Crepus would constantly be asking Alice "Are you sure your nephew is ok?"

Next up, Kaveh (6.0) Just barely hitting the pass in Crepus's book. He's saved by his pure passion and genuine expression. And I think he'd be the best at really showing Diluc how loved he is. So Crepus can't be too made at that.

Again, Barely passing to everyone's surprised Thoma (5.8). Yeah, he's got a stable job and is really nice and a house husband. But he's a just a housekeeper and defiantly couldn't afford to keep Diluc's lifestyle. And while he's nice, Crepus would worry that he's too passive and that he'd again act more like a servant than a partner.

So jumping right down is Xiao at a (3.8) Crepus would not be impressed, not even after learning he's a Yaksha because how is that going to support his son? He only gets points because ya he could protect Diluc

Itto (1) lives up to his "numero UNO" Because that's all he's getting from Crepus. Where Kaveh could win Crepus's over this his devotion, Crepus draws that line at gangs. At least an architect is a respectable job!

Eula (0.2) Hanging on by a thread. And honestly, it's only because Varka has faith in her. So that does mean something to Crepus. But her behavior would totally turn him cold.

Then with at the bottom Childe (0.1) No way in hell is a crazy harbinger like that going near Crepus's baby boy. But here is the thing. I think Childe would be the most likely to change his score once Crepus's See his devotion to his family. Because... Crepus would want that for Diluc. He wants Diluc to have a big happy family, He'd love going to visit Childe's family with Diluc. But... being Fatui is too much of a risk. Because while Crepus does think Childe is an honest man, he still can be used by other people, and thus they'd use Diluc so no way.

Honorable mention Donna forgetting a negative score Crepus would see her following Diluc around and just ask Varka to keep an eye out.

And for those wondering about the Varka scale for the No Bad End Varka. The answer is they are all zero. You express interest in Varka's godchild, his opinion of you jumps right into the trash.

[aparticularbandit]

The Illusion of Choice: Junko Enoshima and You Know What, Writing Poetry Fucking SUCKS

Summary: "Okay, everyone!"

Chapter Rating: T. Fic Rating: M because, again, Danganronpa and DDLC. This is inevitable. Even if Junko keeps trying to evade the plot.

AO3

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“Okay, everyone!”

Junko doesn’t startle.  She expected Monika – or Sayori – or, much less likely, Natsuki – to interrupt them eventually.  The game couldn’t let her sit peacefully with one of the characters and just read a story; no, there has to be more game to play.  Not that she’s particularly sitting peacefully, given the story in question, but she has been deriving a sort of entertainment from glancing over to Yuri every time Yuri glances over at her, just because it makes Yuri look away quickly and blush and look very embarrassed.  But it doesn’t stop her from peeking over at Junko again…and again…and again.

In fact, Yuri’s halfway glancing at Junko when Monika chimes in, and it startles her so much that she drops the book they’ve been sharing.  “M-M-Monika!” she exclaims, and then stops.  She glances down and presses her lips together before slowly handing the book over to Junko, then she glances up again and meets Junko’s eyes.  “We should…we should see what she wants.”

“Pity,” Junko replies.  “I’d rather keep reading with you.”  She winks at her.

Yuri blushes again.

This is too easy.

But then Monika is standing right beside them, as though she’d teleported herself – which is entirely possible, given the game mechanics, her sprite might have just jumped from one place to the other.

The interesting thing about living in a video game is that the world makes up for this: Inside the game, it doesn’t look like her sprite jumped; it looks like Monika walked over to them – or would, if either of them were paying attention to her.  But if Junko focuses hard enough, she can see the edges of the sprites and how they stand out just enough from the flat, truly 2D world behind them.  She can also see the green glitch of binary code, but trying that hard gives her a headache.  It’s not worth the fight.

—At least, Junko could see the code, when she was controlling the game in the Neo World Program.  She saw flits of it when she awoke in this game.  (Maybe it only gave her a headache because she’d already had a headache.)  But she hasn’t tried since, hasn’t reached into the code or tried to break and change it the way she had then.  That would be an easy way to win – to change the code, to bend it to her will, to break it – but she’s done that once.  It’s boring.  Especially when it’s for a game like this.  Significantly less fun than breaking everything in the Neo World Program.

Not that there’s really anything fun here.

Junko glances to Yuri as she jumps up at Monika’s words and brushes at her skirt.  Not nothing.

“I’m sure you enjoyed reading,” Monika says, but she turns her gaze to Junko, and her hopeful green eyes flash the color of code, “but it’s time to share poems!”

Except you didn’t write a poem, did you, Jun-chan?  Oh, Yu-chan will be so disappointed!

Monika’s voice echoes around her, followed by a soft giggling.  Then she skips over to Natsuki, who has her head in a volume of manga but doesn’t seem to be fully awake.  When Natsuki looks up, her eyes are bleary, and she shuts her manga, showing a cover that says—

“I can’t wait to read your poem,” Yuri murmurs, handing The Captivity of Otonashi to Junko and distracting her enough that she misses what the cover of Natsuki’s manga says.  “I’m sure it will be….”  Her voice trails off, and she shakes her head.  “No, I don’t want to put any pressure on you.  This…this might be your first time writing a poem.  I can’t—”

Junko pushes herself up from the ground.  “It’s not my first time,” she says softly, brushing strands of red hair out of her face and tucking them behind her ear.  “It’s just…been a while.”

(This is a lie.

She doesn’t remember ever writing poetry before, which doesn’t make sense.  Even before her change into her final form as Junko, Ryoko seems like the sort of person who would have written a lot of poetry.  Really bad poetry, because there’s more to it than analysis can just draw out.  But she can’t remember writing poetry, so maybe…maybe she didn’t.

Or….)

Junko’s eyes narrow, and she glares up at the ceiling, as though that’s where Chiaki would be.  How much did you fuck with my head, Nanami-senpai?  What did you steal?  Before Yuri can say anything, she tucks the book under one arm and starts to the desk where she’d been sitting, as though she would go through her bag for a poem she didn’t write.  But it’s time – there’s four others, which means that Sayori and Monika can swap poems and Natsuki and Yuri can swap poems and she can get the fuck out of dodge���

“Where are you going?”

Junko expected this from Monika, but it’s Sayori who skips up to her, a piece of loose leaf crumpled in her hands.  She shifts the strap of her bag over her shoulder.  “Leaving.”

“Before we share our poems?”  Sayori looks up at Junko with wide, hurt eyes.  “You wrote one, right?  You don’t have to worry about sharing it, because we’re all sharing them, and we can all help each other get better!”

Junko sighs.  “I, uh.”  She meets Sayori’s gaze – liars avert their gazes when they lie, and Junko knows better than to use that tell, even if she’s certain Sayori won’t catch it.  “I forgot.”

Sayori immediately takes her hand.  “That’s okay, Ryo—”  She cuts herself off.  “Jun-chan.  I forgot, too!”  She giggles and glances down at the paper in her free hand.  “I…I wrote mine this morning as soon as I woke up.  I wrote it really fast!  So it’s probably no good.”  She blushes.  “You could…you could read it, and it would probably make you feel better about writing one yourself, and then—”

A sharp comment from Natsuki cuts Sayori off immediately, and she turns to the other club members.  Natsuki is saying something to Yuri, something harsh, and Junko grits her teeth immediately.  All she sees is Mikan, quivering before Hiyoko again.  Of course, she hadn’t minded Hiyoko so much; she knew how to control her, how to redirect her anger and hatred somewhere else, since Mikan’s despair was hers and hers alone (in the same way that Mikan herself was), so once she’d gotten involved, Mikan hadn’t been berated as completely as before.

Junko hasn’t gotten involved here yet—

Sayori moves before Junko does, hands waving to try and stop the fight, but she doesn’t step between them.  If anything, as Junko looks at Yuri’s stance, she realizes – again – that Yuri isn’t like Mikan; she’s standing her ground.  It’s not Natsuki attacking Yuri, an easy target; it’s an actual fight.

Junko’s eyes narrow.

Then she turns in the confusion and walks out.

(It’s called taking advantage of the situation.  It is not called being a coward.)

~

“You fucked with my brain,” Junko mutters under her breath as she walks, alone, from the high school.  She’s in the space between scenes; at this point, she’s staring harder at everything just so she can see the general outline of the code, and there’s no code here, which means – as far as the game itself is concerned – none of this exists.  Her AI brain is just manufacturing surroundings and filling in spaces that aren’t there to make things make more sense.

As if an AI needs things to make sense.

(Maybe they do.  The Junko in the meat sack hadn’t actually looked that hard into the ethics of AI or all of that extra fluff stuff.  She’d just mimicked what she’d seen Chihiro do, but with her own unique spin.  Which means that Junko as she is now is only going off of that limited knowledge.

Unless that’s something else Chiaki fucking stole from her.

That fucking bitch.)

As soon as she speaks to her, Chiaki appears as if from nowhere, walking alongside her.  “You already suspected that, I think.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you would take memories of writing poems.  That’s so—”  Junko splays her hand out because she can’t even think of a word to describe it.  “Random,” she says finally, because it’s the closest word there is.  “I would be acing these comparisons and what the fuck if you hadn’t—”

“You wouldn’t be acing anything because you didn’t want to write a poem in the first place,” Chiaki gently corrects her.  She continues to walk forward, although her feet don’t quite touch the ground.  In the foreground of this game’s art style, Chiaki looks out of place; her design is similar but too different.  Too real, almost.

Junko lifts her own hand in front of her face to compare.  She doesn’t look out of place, only Chiaki.  “Did you make me look like this?”

“You had to fit in.”

“You suck.”

Chiaki almost smiles.  “Would you believe me if I told you that I didn’t?”

Junko considers this for a moment before shaking her head.  “No.”

“Then what’s the point of asking?”  Chiaki stops all at once and leans her head back to look up at a sky that isn’t really there.  “I told you – I didn’t change the game.  It was already like this when I found it.”  She sighs.  “The poetry thing was just a game protocol; the main character is supposed to be new at the whole poetry idea, so you are, too.”  Then she reaches into Junko’s bag and pulls a poem out.  “See this?”

Junko stares at it, her eyes narrowing.  “It’s blank.”

Chiaki nods.  “Mmhm.  The game would have given you a poem, if you let it.  Kind of a cheat code.”

“And you didn’t tell me this before because—”

“I wanted to see what you would do.”  Chiaki shrugs.  “Is that all?”

Junko turns to her finally.  “Why did you even put me here?” she asks.  “Surely you don’t think this is going to do anything to me.  I’m still Junko Fucking Enoshima – trademark pending – or it was, but I’m not sure the whole trademark thing is even still functioning anymore—”  She cuts herself off.  “You, of all people, should want me deleted.  To see me cease to exist.  You’re not into the whole torture thing, so why the fuck would you put me here?”

Chiaki glances up and meets her gaze levelly.  “Is that why you didn’t delete me?” she asks.  “To torture me?”

Junko lifts her chin, grits her teeth, but doesn’t say anything.

“You don’t know, do you?”

“Yeah, because you fucking took it from me,” Junko lies through her clenched teeth.  She pushes past Chiaki in the space that does not exist and focuses on getting back to the house that does exist, but shouldn’t.  “Nice chat, Chicharin.”

“Hey, hey!” Chiaki calls after her.  “You wanted me!”

Junko ignores her, and the game shifts itself around her ignorance.  Her next step places her squarely in her own bedroom, covered with the clutter that she doesn’t want or need, and when she collapses on her bed, Chiaki is nowhere to be seen.

Good on her for knowing when to not follow.

[its-elioo]

As someone who is long-time fan of Mlp EG and who has just finished watching TFP, your fic is true delight. I read it 5 times at least and it is still awesome. You perfectly matched girls with their autobots partners just as well as you did with decepticons as their evil counterpart. For example Twilight/Shockwave - both have high inteligence, but while one uses it for greater good and to help the others, the other abuses it to gain power and hurt the others; Fluttershy/Soundwave - even thought they are both animal lovers and quiet types, FS is just very shy girl while SW is calculating sadist; Rainbow/Starscream - Apart from being queer icons (If you can look at these two without the word gay constantly entering your mind, congrats, you´re legit cishet) they´re actually pretty similliar in function and personallity wise. They´re both eccentric, aroggant showoffs and are also fastest on their team. But it´s their differences that are making them great foils. RD is impaitent hothead, who jumps straight into action without the second thought, while SC is great schemer, who has his plans planed out. RD is literally element of loyalty, while SC is mostly loyal to himself and etc. I can´t wait to see all their interactions in the future. If you´re interested in some writting advice, there is one minor thing that can be fixed : your description of characters feelings and thought. You start explaining how and why they feel that way instead of giving readers benefit of the doubt. The best term I can think of is that you are describing a picture. Like you want us to see, hear and understand everything at once. It creates unnecessary sentences or whole paragraphs without which some emotional moments would have sounded better. For example if paragraph in Ch.2 with sentence "She was too stuborn." it would have sounded so much better. Or sentences like "She was too precious." are also kind of waste of space since they don´t tell anything new.It´s not worst type of description,but it can create a feeling that you don´t trust youre readers to read from emotions characters alone. Many new writers and comic artists are often doing this. It can be solved 2 ways : by improving their writing or start drawing comics. I´m sorry if I confussed you in some way. I tried my best to explain it, but english is not my primary language. If you don´t mind, I would recommend fics from @whatwooshkai to see what I am talking about ( it´s mostly TF shipping stuff, but man, the writting is so good that I can´t stop reading even if I wanted to). Overall great story and art, just writting needs a little improvment.

I want to finish this already long post with few questions:

1.What is group dynamic with eachother? I mean in and outside of their decided pairings. I can see Sideswipe and Rainbow´s relationship as chaos siblings and that Rainbow is definitely driving Ratchet insane, but what about the others? I´m courious to know.

2.Did you already started writting the next book? If not, do you have planned when you will start?

3.Do you consider draw this as a full time comic or at least draw some parts of it? Or drawing some strips of your incorrect quotes?It´s just that you´re artstyle is so pretty and redesigns of the autobots and girls are great. It´s shame to see so little of them.

4. Did you thought about getting your comics dubbed on youtube?

5. Do you draw ideas from the asks from your followers on Tambrlane or you take commissions only? Like if they had a idea for a comic/sketch and they post it to you, would you draw it? If not, could they draw it with your redesignes?

6. What gave you idea for this crossover? My best guess is that comic from Hasbro.

Holy- I never thought I would get such a long ask.

*rolls up sleeves and rubs hands*

Okay, let’s do this!

First, I want to thank you so much for the kind words, the fact that there are people who got really interested in my fic makes my heart flutter. <3

And I really love it when readers point out small details that I haven’t thought about that much while writing! Thank you a lot for the advice and recommendations, I really appreciate it! I will keep that in mind!

Now, to answer your questions:

1. You are absolutely correct about Sideswipe and Rainbow’s relationship, in my opinion, they will be the best chaos siblings (I am 100% sure that most of the members will go insane because of their pranks) I could write more detailed headcanons for them and the others too.

2. The next book is nearly finished, I will make sure to post it at the beginning of January.

3. I will drop more art soon, promise! Sorry for the lack of content, I’ve been pretty busy for the past few months. But now I’m finally free and I will certainly start drawing again! I also have several ideas in mind for some parts of the next book.

4. I don’t mind my comics being dubbed as long as I’m credited and they’ve asked for permission.

5. Again, if I’m credited and asked for permission, there will be no problem for other artists to draw my redesigns. I don’t usually take requests and it really depends on my free time and motivation, but if I really like the idea that has been suggested, I would (probably) draw it.

6. Good guess! But actually no. I was really into this crossover way before Hasbro decided to make a comic of it. I’ve been into a lot of fandoms and reading crossover fanfics basically became like a hobby to me. I got a lot of inspiration after I accidentally stumbled upon some pretty good written Tf/Mlp fics, but it took me a lot of time to finally get enough courage and start writing my own. I’m more than thankful for the support and love that I was given through the years! It really motivated me to keep on going!

[dumbstuffsstuff]

Althaitham’s Weakness || Genshin Impact Fic || (Lee!Alhaitham)

Warning: Slight bondage

Lee!Haitham

Ler!Kaveh

———

Kaveh and Alhaitham are tired of each other, they are constantly nagging at one another and throwing passive insults. Kaveh is not one to lose an argument. And after he finds an interesting new fact about Alhaitham, he uses it to his advantage.

———

“Ugh!!”

“Whoops.”

Kaveh throws the dirty rag onto the floor and puts his hands on his hips.

“I told you to be careful! You need glasses because you never watch where you’re going!” Kaveh scolds Alhaitham who had tripped over the bucket of soapy water that Kaveh was using to clean surfaces in the Akademiya.

“Maybe don’t put it where I cannot see,” Alhaitham argues in a monotone voice.

“Whatever,” Kaveh rubs his temple with his fingers, “go clean the hallway, at least you’ll be far away from me.”

“I will do so gladly.”

Kaveh gasps and puts a dramatic hand to his heart.

“Hmph!” He crosses his arms and heads back to dust some bookshelves, “Don’t forget to sweep under all the cabinets.”

No answer.

“Just letting you know…” Kaveh mumbles, “Cause I know how lazy you get when it comes to cleaning…”

“What was that?” Alhaitham reappears behind Kaveh.

“Nothing~” He sings. Alhaitham groans and heads back to sweep the floors.

“Neat freak…” Haitham whispers.

“Excuse me?!!”

“How do you hear me from over there?!”

“I’m not a neat freak! You’re just unorganized and unsanitary.”

“Unsanitary??”

“Yes, now come here and help me dust off the bookshelves, I can’t reach the top.”

Alhaitham sighs in annoyance. He picks up a feather duster and helps Kaveh dusting off the top of the shelves.

“Why clean the top? Nobody’s gonna see it.”

“Well unless you wanna dust every book one by one, I suggest you stop complaining,” Kaveh smirks. Alhaitham uses every strength in him to not punch that cocky smile off of his face. He rolls his eyes and continues.

“Ah, come on now, Haitham. Don’t be such a grouch,” Kaveh flutters the feather duster gently against Alhaitham’s side. Alhaitham felt as though he had jumped out of his skin. He smacks the feather duster away from him and scowls at his peer. A faint blush forming on the bridge of his nose.

“Alhaitham?” At first Kaveh looks taken aback by the reaction, but his shock quickly turns into mischief.

“Kaveh…”

“Alhaitham, is there something you want to tell me?” He flutters the duster in Haitham’s direction, causing the muscular man to flinch and back up. Kaveh follows him slowly, like a fox approaching its prey.

“What are you talking about, Kaveh?”

“I think you and I both know.”

“Touch me and I’ll- I’ll-“

“You’ll what?”

Alhaitham uses his dendro powers to attempt to create a baracade which would’ve enclosed him in a bloom until Kaveh eventually left, but Kaveh was always a step ahead. Before he knew it, Alhaitham’s wrists were tied together by strong vines and were forced above his head. He leans against the wall, completely helpless. The blush on his face grows, and he can’t help but feel a tinge of nervousness (more than a tinge really, but he’d never let it show).

“K-Kaveh! Let me go this instant!”

“Uhmmmm… No!” Kaveh laughs at his adversary’s predicament, “I just can’t pass up this opportunity! Especially after you’ve been insulting me all afternoon.”

“They weren’t insults they were facts!”

Kaveh twirls the duster around Alhaitham’s defined abs. Alhaitham immediately shuts up, sucking in his stomach and gritting his teeth. He’s lucky enough that his shirt prevents the duster from causing any more of a reaction.

“I can’t believe the great alhaitham has a weakness as childish as being ticklish! That’s absolutely adorable!”

Alhaitham wished in this very moment that he could curl up into a hole and stay there. Kaveh knew all the right ways to tease him and he found it totally unfair.

“These abs of yours sure are nicely toned~” Kaveh uses his slim fingers to stroke each ab and hollow. Alhaitham holds his breath, trying to turn his red face away from Kaveh. The more he tries to break free from the vines around his wrists, the harder it became to stop the giggles from rising.

“Ooh, this must tickle a lot huh? Yeah, I can tell~”

“K-Kahaveh…”

“Oh! Was that a giggle? Cute, let me hear it again!”

“Noho..!”

“No? Oh alright then.”

Kaveh digs his fingers into Haitham’s sides. Haitham begins to giggle instantly, and somehow the silkiness of his shirt seemed to make the tickles worse.

“AHhahahhaha!! K-Kahahaveh! You stohop that!”

“Begging already? I thought you were tough~”

“Nghhkkk…” Kaveh’s comment caused Alhaitham to try and contain his laughter again. Kaveh was unsatisfied with this.

“Now we can’t have that can we?”

He scurries his fingers up and down the sides of Alhaitham’s torso, getting a loud reaction every time he gets too close to his armpits.

“AHHhahahaha!!! KAHVEH!! Stahahahap! Cuhut that out nohow!!”

“But you just havent learned your lesson yet.”

“Whahahahat??? AHAHAHAHA!! KAHAHAVEH!!”

Kaveh scratches at Haitham’s armpits, and Haitham twists from side to side trying to avoid the fingers. As much as he tries to pull his arms down, the vines won’t let him.

“KAHAHAHAVEHEHEH!!”

“Oh a bad spot huh?”

“NAHAhahahahohoho!!”

“Seems like it to me.”

“KAhahaveh you asshohole!!”

Kaveh lets out a dramatic gasp, “What did you call me?!”

“I called you an asshole!”

“That’s it! You’ve just extended your sentence.”

“Wait wait wait! Kaveh no! Kaveh-! KAHAHAHAAVEH!!”

Kaveh wiggles his hands over Alhaitham’s ribs, plucking each bone like a harp.

“WAHAHAHAHA!!! Nooohohohoho plehehease!! Nohohot thehere!!”

Alhaitham slides to the floor, arms remaining above him, and Kaveh follows.

“Alhaitham! You are really begging me to stop now, it feels great to have power.”

Alhaitham groans through his laughter.

“Now I wonder…”

“Kahahveh..”

“If you’re even more ticklish…”

“K-Kaveh don’t you dare!”

“…riiiight…”

“KAVEH-!”

“HERE!”

“NOOOHOHOHOHOHOHOO!”

Kaveh tickles his stomach, occasionally wriggling his finger into his navel, unable to control his own laughter at the man’s hysterics.

“NAAAHAHAHAHAHAA!! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!! PLEHEHEASE NOT THERE!”

“Ah! I found it! Alhaitham has a ticklish tummy, that’s soo cute!”

“WHAHAHAHA?!!” Alhaitham half questions.

Kaveh blushes slightly. He just called him cute? Out of pettiness and to hide his embarrassment, he lifts the poor guy’s shirt, takes a big breath and blows a big raspberry into the sensitive skin.

“AAAAHAHAHHAAHHAHA!! KAHAHA!! NOOHOHOHO!! STAHAHAH!! ENOHOHOUGH!! I CAHANT TAKE THIS! PLEHEEASE IM SOHOHORRY!!”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it now!”

“AHHAHAHA!! PLEHEEASE! I WIHILL DIHIE! STOHOHOP!”

“What is going on here?!”

Suddenly it all stops. Kaveh’s head snaps up, Alhaitham falls into himself, gasping for air and letting out the last little airy giggles.

In front of the two older men are a slightly flustered and surprised Cyno and an a confused Tighnari.

Kaveh’s face turns pink, along with Alhaitham who realizes that the two kids are seeing him in such an awkward state. Kaveh releases the vines and Alhaitham is quick to fix himself and return to his normal composure.

“Well… *ahem*…” Tighnari starts, “it seems like you two are haviny fun sooo we will just grab what we’re here for and be on our way.” He grabs a book from a shelf and rushes out of the room with Cyno, who just smirks at the two and follows his friend.

Alhaitham and Kaveh sit there red-faced. Unable to comprehend what had just happened. Until Kaveh felt a pair of glaring eyes at him. He flinches when he sees Alhaitham inching closer to him with fury on his face. That was Kaveh’s signal to run.

“DON’T TRY TO RUN AWAY KAVEH!”

“LEAVE ME ALOONEE!!”

Oh poor Kaveh. TvT

———

[i-am-just-a-skeleton]

oh before i forget, i wanted to post something for @maycuryweek

this is the first scene of an AU i've been working on for a while (which i Still don't have a name for). Sorry if the formatting's a little odd i've never posted fic on tumblr before

Brian hadn’t expected to find anyone else up in the tower, especially not at this time of night. So when he opened the door to see a girl about his age sitting in the window, he nearly dropped his candle in surprise. “Oh dear, I’m sorry, I didn’t know anyone w-” The girl startled at his words, jumping up from her seat.

“Who- Your Highness!” She quickly began to collect the drawing paper and pencils left behind her in the window seat.

“Don’t do that, I only wanted to look at the stars a bit, you can stay if you like. Or you can leave, you- you don’t have to though, I’m sorry, I-” To his surprise, she had started laughing. He stared, not sure what to make of the outburst.

“I’m sorry, that was terribly rude of me. Only, you looked so funny, all pale and wavering in the candlelight, like a nervous little ghost.”

At that, Brian couldn’t help but crack a smile himself, relaxing enough to approach and sit on the opposite end of the window seat. “I’m Brian”

She laughed again, in a way that implied she had obviously already known his name, but found his insistence at maintaining politeness to be amusing. “I’m Melina. Do you come up here often, then?”

“Not really. Well, sort of? About once a week I think. Er. Sorry”

She waved away his apology, shuffling the papers in her hands. “Probably no surprise we bumped into each other eventually, then. I’ve been up most nights the past week. I’m trying to draw the view from the tower, but in another day or two the moon will be too far gone and I’ll have to wait until next month for the light to be bright enough again.” She sighed dramatically at that and gestured out the window. He followed her hand, looking down instead of up as usual.

“Oh!” He pressed closer to the glass, trying to take in the whole of the view at once. Below the tower, the castle gardens spread out like a tapestry. The hedges and paths traced delicate lines across the whole thing, and the pond made a perfect mirror at the far end, shimmering in the moonlight. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never… I hadn’t really paid much attention to it before.”

“Really? Then what have you been doing up here?”

“I’ve, um.” Brian ducked his head, looking out into the garden rather than at his newfound companion. “I’ve been looking at the stars. I found this book in the library, that talks about their positions, and how they can be used for navigation, and how they change throughout the seasons. It’s very interesting.” He stopped there, still staring out the window. Now she would laugh at him again, and say that spending his nights mooning away over stars was a silly thing to do, and-

“Oh, that sounds fascinating!” He looked up with a start.

“It does?”

She looked at him a little oddly, but smiled and said: “Yes, it does. Tell me about it?”

"Oh! Well, um, what do you want to know?"

"Hmmm... tell me about your favourite star?"

"It's not a star, exactly, or not a single star at least. It looks like one from here, but with a telescope you can see it’s really three all together. There’s a sketch of what they look like in the chapter about wizards’ stars- that’s stars they use for magic, I’m not sure how though because the book doesn’t go into very much detail on that. I suppose you’d have to be a wizard to know the specifics. Anyway, those are called the Shifters because they have to do with transformation magic. You can see them now, they’re just there." Brian gestured for Melina to move closer so he could point out the stars’ location.

“Is that them? Up above the trees there?”

Brian nodded happily. “Yes, and if you look there…” He pointed up to the sky again, and set off explaining the nearby constellations.

---

It was only when the edge of the sky started to grow grey that he realised just how long they’d been sat there. Melina blinked sleepily at him when he stopped in the middle of a sentence, and then glanced out the window where he was looking.

“Oh, it’s gotten- early, hasn’t it?” She collected her drawing papers from the seat beside her as Brian hummed a response. “Someone’s probably going to be looking for us soon, we’d better get back downstairs before they do.”