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

[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.”

~~~

[unhappy-sometimes]

a 2024 writing retrospective (for sxf fanfic)

ignore the fact that i’m a few days late. i’ve been unbelievably busy the past couple weeks.

in this post i’ll go over the fics i wrote in 2024 think of it as an extremely extended author’s notes. i love to talk and will do so when given the chance.

i’ll start from my latest fic and work my way backwards. spoilers for everything i’ve written in 2024.

(Very) Stupid

Something that I try really really hard to maintain in my writing is believability, specifically when it comes to writing characters. Characters acting out of character is one of my biggest fanfic pet peeves: if I wanted to read about someone’s oc, then I would’ve read a regular book. That being said, I think a lot about how Twilight would actually act like if he were in love. I had an interesting conversation with @cantareincminor forever ago about how he’s so emotionally constipated that it’s kind of difficult to write Twilight in love without making him a bit ooc. Right now in canon it’s hard to imagine him falling head over heels for anyone (in my opinion, anyway).

That being said there are moments in canon where he acts flustered in situations that could be interpreted as romantic. So, for right now, my hypothesis is this: if and when Twilight falls in love, he’s going to be an absolute fool. He’s going to do his usual overthinking and overanalyizing, so much to the point that he starts hesitating over the smallest things.

(Very) Stupid is how I imagine all of that unfolding, although for the sake of comedy I did push things to the absurd. Sometimes Twilight does things in canon with such certainty of “Yes, of course normal people do this, I’m nailing this normalcy thing” that he fails to realize he’s being kinda ridiculous. I also wanted to take that element and incorporate it into a fic.

I also wanted to try subverting expectations (ooh fancy literary term) by having them do romantic things that lead them nowhere. I tried to cram in as many tropes as I could—feeding each other with a fork, only one bed, first kiss—but do so under the guise of Twilight completely missing how dumb he’s being the entire time. He only realizes his feelings until after their first kiss, specifically when Yor surprises him with a quick peck on the cheek. This, of course, was deliberate. I figured that it’d make the most sense if Twilight would only realize his feelings in a situation where he wasn’t the one initiating a (somewhat) romantic gesture because he theoretically wouldn’t be overthinking it. Instead, Yor just sneaks in when his guard is down <3

Endings are usually the hardest things for me to write and (Very) Stupid was no exception. I almost had Twilight pass out at the breakfast table when he kisses Yor but then I realized I’d made him faint in almost every fic I’ve written this year and that felt like a cop out. But I figured it out and I don’t mind the way the ending turned out :D

Also, kind of a random reference, but the title is slightly inspired by VERY NICE by Seventeen lol

Holy crap I’ve written so much for only one fic so far. My apologies in advance.

21 Eden Street

I won’t go into too much detail for 21 Eden Street because it’s still ongoing, but I just wanna brag about how fun it is to write hehe. It’s really enjoyable to write pure crack and come up with stupid and insane ideas with Cantare. You don’t need to have seen either iteration of 21 Jump Street to understand what’s going on. Honestly, we’ve taken very little from the source material and treated it more like a loose guide and a basis for brainstorming.

Don’t worry, we haven’t abandoned it! Cantare is waiting on me to finish writing my chapter (hehe sorry, Cantare!) and soon it’ll be back up and running.

Seeing things

Ah, Seeing Things, my beloved <3

This fic has the least amount of hits out of everything I’ve written (which is not surprising to me) but I hold it very dear to my heart. There’s not a specific reason why other than I just really enjoyed writing it. I also spent a ton of time making supplementary drawings and a whole hype campaign for it, too, so I kinda am obligated to feel some sorta way about it.

Anyway, the way this fic came about is simple; I just had the things I am most afraid of happen to Twilight. Yes, I’m scared of serial killers and my loved ones dying like everyone else, but something I am absolutely terrified of are hallucinations. That and doppelgangers.

Not being able to tell reality apart from fiction activates the flight or fight senses in me. Real life can be scary, yes, but reality is bound by the rules of reality. Literally anything can happen in fiction. The most horrific, awful things are possible in fiction and if those things suddenly become possible in reality???? Girl I am GONE. Passing away. Curling up in a fetal position in the nearest corner. I don’t know if that makes any sense. If I ever start seeing things that I can’t be sure are actually happening or not, I am choosing to die right then and there. Doppelgangers as a concept are also really scary to me. It’s like stranger danger but times a thousand because you can’t tell who the strangers are anymore.

In my initial draft, there wasn’t nearly as much of a tension between Twilight and Yor. If I recall correctly, by then I’d written to nearly the end and realized that for Yor this whole experience has been Loid acting just a little more weird than usual. It might’ve been Cantare’s suggestion (just assume everything after Guy’s Night has been beta’d by Cantare and you’ll be mostly right) but I realized that Twilight probably would start to suspect the people around him were screwing with him. I added the scene where his room was messed up and it all fell into place hehe.

I don’t like writing gore or the like because I feel like typical gore quickly starts escalating into levels of pain that the average reader has no possibility of comprehending and it loses its efficacy. Instead I tried feeding into Twilight’s paranoia, adding things that in isolation are just weird but when put together are unsettling. I shamelessly stole the fourth room hallway from Impossible Landscapes, a Delta Green campaign that I highly recommend you check out if you enjoy surreal horror. I purposefully kept some things vague, like the things Anya sees in Twilight’s mind, the way Handler’s face gets warped, or the description of “the watchers” because I felt like going into detail would lose the unknown-ness of it all. That and I’m lazy heehee.

In some way, canon Spy x Family does deal with ideas of doppelgangers and paranoia. Spies are constantly afraid of being listened in on, they don’t know if they can trust anyone, and they always have to keep an eye over their shoulder. For someone who is always a little scared of being spied on (I cover my phone and laptop cameras for that exact reason), that kinda sounds like torture. Seeing Things was a fun way to crank that paranoia up to a hundred. It was especially fun writing the museum scene because I tried thinking of things that are just ever so slightly off, things that theoretically could exist but clearly don’t.

I also threw in other things I’m scared of, like being watched, being followed, the dark, and the bathroom at night just to be extra mean to Twilight <3

Anyway, I’m rambling and this analysis post will be a novel if I keep this up.

Guy’s Night

I do recognize the insane tone shift going from Seeing Things to Guy’s Night.

What is there to even say about Guy’s Night? I got the idea from Psych (the Last Night Gus episode) who got the general basic from the Hangover movies. I wrote it all out in a few days, one of which I was sick in bed. I don’t know what to say.

Looking back on it, I don’t love the way it turned out. I’m glad I wrote it but where I usually don’t mind rereading my stuff for fun I do kinda cringe at Guy’s Night. It relies on a lot of contrivances which I tried masking with humor but it’s still a bit obvious. If you make a timeline of the previous night’s events, it only kinda makes sense.

It doesn’t help that I went into it with no plan whatsoever. I just sat down and said what happens happens. When I wrote in chapter one that something had happened between Loid and Yor, I didn’t know what that was. When I wrote Loid saying “we need to see what’s on that camera film” I was right there next to him saying “buddy, so do I because I have no idea.” When wrote Franky saying that his friend Marko might have answers, I was hoping he would too because I, like everyone else, didn’t know what was going on either.

The ONE thing I DID know was that Twilight got a tattoo the night before. That was it. That’s all.

I don’t typically plan out everything when I write but I usually have a good idea. For Guy’s Night, I had a bad idea in that I had no idea. It kinda shows. Sorry.

That being said, it was incredibly fun writing their drunk shenanigans and banter. The dynamic between Twilight, Franky, and Yuri was so goofy that I’ve seriously debated writing a sequel of sorts. However that’s incredibly unlikely. If I ever do write a sequel, it’d be a Girl’s Night with Yor and a combination of female characters, probably Sylvia and Fiona.

After Peace (and Glimpses of Happiness)

A quick heads up: I don’t go into detail but I do discuss mental illness in this segment.

I am incredibly proud of how After Peace turned out. Not only did it receive a really good reception for being my first fic ever, but it also helped me work through some things in my own life. It’s important to give some context.

I wrote After Peace shortly after graduating college. I won’t go into specifics, but college was really, really difficult for me. I had been so excited for this next step in my life after graduating high school but instead it turned out to be one of the hardest experiences of my life. Depression came out of nowhere and stomped me into the ground.

I used to have very high expectations for myself; I had a clear vision of what I wanted to do with my life and I was taking steps to work towards those goals. Then my mental health tanked and suddenly everything just felt so difficult and pointless. I’d sleep all day and then hate myself when the sun started to set because that meant I’d wasted an entire day doing nothing when I was supposed to be working towards something. But I just couldn’t do it anymore.

That’s something I’ve noticed that a lot of media gets wrong about depression sometimes. It doesn’t always make you feel sad. Sometimes it just sucks everything out of you—sadness, happiness, anger, everything. I stopped drawing, stopped listening to music, stopped eating, stopped exercising, stopped doing everything that I enjoyed because it felt like the equivalent of doing the dishes. Everything was a chore, even the things that I liked.

What really changed things around was when my poor roommate, who was sick of me sleeping for twenty hours a day, dragged my sorry self to the free counseling services on campus. It’s doesn’t fix everything, but having someone who cares about you and you care about can really help your mental health.

Anyway, let’s not forget I’m talking about an anime fanfiction here haha.

After Peace really did start out as a couple of doodles but as I started to write it, I noticed that there were a lot of similarities between myself and Loid. No, I am not a former spy turned grumpy hermit, but I did once have great aspirations and now have to settle for what reality offers me. Realizing that worth comes from simply existing was something that I had to understand in order to begin my recovery process.

I’ve always found it kind of sad that if you took away the goal of world peace from Twilight that you’re basically left with nothing. He doesn’t really have hobbies, no real friends, and he never takes a day off. That’s hardly sustainable. Would he really be happy when there’s nothing left to do? I’d like to think so, but I wanted to see what would happen if he wasn’t.

I mentioned this in the end note, but After Peace was also influenced by this comic I was working on years ago that had the similar premise of “grumpy man learns to enjoy life with the help of a young girl” (very original, I know). I doubt that I’ll ever release that comic in the capacity I once intended, but it does live on in my secret second tumblr account of you ever manage to find it.

Anyway, I was worried about writing After Piece because Anya plays a big role and I am Not Good at writing children. It was hard striking a balance between making Anya likeable but still realistic. I don’t interact with children often and, as a youngest sibling, I don’t have much experience with them. Anya has so many layers—being a test subject, being a telepath, being a child—that it was hard managing them all. But I’m okay with how she turned out.

There is a slight problem in that she basically disappears once Yor shows up D:

I debated having Yor in the fic at all but then I realized that without her the emotional climax would have to rely on a four year old’s emotional intelligence and then decided right then and there that Yor had to be in it haha.

Yor’s whole deal with accidentally killing the wrong person was kind of a last minute addition. I do wish I was able to explore that more, but I also feel like she’s emotionally mature enough to forgive herself more quickly than Twilight would. She ends up serving a bit of a role model to him. It was also nice to be able to write them interacting with the truth out on the table and for them to be honest with each other.

Pacing was something that I was very concerned with. Looking back on it now, I’m still worried that things move along a bit quickly. However, I am reminded of some advice my graphic design professors gave me: “Good design is when nothing more can be take away.” And, because I was writing this as fast as possible, you best believe I was taking things away if I didn’t need them. I didn’t want to fall into the trap of dwelling on Twilight’s thoughts for too long so I instead opted for showing him progressing through experiences instead. I think it worked out.

However because I took so many things out I decided to start Glimpses of Happiness, a supplementary fic to After Peace that fills in the cracks, so to speak. I wanted to have more moments between Twilight and the other characters, like stargazing with Anya and growing close to Yor. Right now there’s only one chapter, but I have plans for at least a few more. I also thought it was important to highlight that mental health recovery never truly ends. Just because Yor and Twilight had a nice chat on the roof doesn’t mean that things are suddenly okay. It’s a long process that sometimes never ends and I wanted to show that.

Of course, I can’t talk about After Peace without addressing the Midwest allegations. As I said, yes, this fic was inspired by my childhood in the American Midwest, even though I was nowhere near any mountains. The Midwest is a silly place full of nothing to do but go to your local Walmart for fun, but I think it served a good enough setting for Twilight to chill out and slow down. If I really wanted to do full Midwest, I’d have Twilight watch a tornado touch down on a cornfield from his truckbed, but that feels sort of out of place.

I feel like there’s more to say but I can’t think of anything and I doubt anyone’s actually gonna read all the way down here anyway. But yeah, that’s After Peace.

Oh, and the A.M. AM by Damien Jurado Youtube video currently has nine comments that mentjon falling from a five story building, which I think is really funny.

So now what?

Against my better judgement, I’m still writing. I have a couple projects in the works, especially one big big big one that hopefully I can start publishing soon. Keep an eye out for that.

In the meantime, thanks for a great year! I hope 2025 holds more great things in store for us all!

-unso ^. .^<

[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!

◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈

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.

[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.

[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 🧍

[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

[pink-lizard-diaries]

*drops this fic during maintenance and runs off*

Look, I know what it looks like. I KNOW how I tagged it. You're just gonna have to trust me here

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Please, Estinien! I cannot bear to fight you!” The Warrior of Light cried out to him, the surrounding blizzard mirroring the storm in her heart.

The Azure Dragoon growled and clutched at his head. “It is too late. The dread wyrm has all but taken me. You must flee, before I am forced to…”

And suddenly he was upon her, her back pressed to the ground, his lance at her throat. He knelt over her prone form in the Coerthan snow, ready to strike the killing blow. 

“Estinien…” Her hand reached up to caress his cheek beneath his helm, catching a tear that rolled down his face. “I know this is not you. Come back to me.”

“Oh, Anzu…I…I…” The lance fell to the ground beside them, and a moment later he ripped off his helm and cast it aside as well. Finally, finally their mouths met, teeth and tongues clashing in a passionate kiss, their armored bodies pressed as close as could be. His hand slid down the exposed stomach of her drachen mail, drawing more of a shiver from her than the cold ever could, and then one by one, undid the buckles until he was able to reach his fingers into— 

Anzu snapped the book shut, feeling an intense heat gather in her cheeks that she was certain would show on her face. “Kami take me, why does this exist?” she whispered in anguish. Her eyes darted toward a pile of books atop a nearby shelf, and she immediately dug through them, trying to bury the copy of Coerthan Torment she’d been perusing as deep inside it as she possibly could. She could not be seen purchasing this book, but somehow, she had to make certain that no one else would ever be able to read it.

“Searching for anything in particular, miss?” 

Anzu jumped and suppressed a shriek as the elderly Elezen shopkeep appeared behind her. She spun around, letting the books fall where they may, and forced a smile. “I, uh. Only browsing!”

The old woman regarded her with a look of slight confusion until she noticed the pile of books behind Anzu steadily slipping onto the floor. “Dear me, I really should have tided this up ages ago,” she muttered, plodding over and scooping them up one by one.

Before Anzu could stop her, G’raha appeared at her side, both arms occupied with a motley assortment of books and grinning from ear to ear. “Quite an impressive collection they have here!” he gushed. “Have you found anything of interest?”

Anzu grimaced, unable to tear her eyes away from the book pile. “I suppose you could say that.”

G’raha looked at her quizzically. “I’ve found everything I’d like, but if you still need a moment…”

“No,” she mumbled. “I think I’ve had enough of books for one day.”

~*~*~

A little while later, the two of them sat on a bench in The Pillars, munching on some miniature meat pies purchased from a street vendor. The sun had made a rare appearance in Ishgard that afternoon and beamed down upon their faces, warming them just a little in the frosty air.

G’raha finished his lunch with a satisfied sigh and immediately began rummaging through the two bags worth of books he’d just bought. “These ought to keep me occupied for at least another week or two,” he said, taking out a book and leafing through its pages.

Anzu’s eyes widened. “Raha, you bought nearly thirty books!”

He grinned. “I’ve always been a quick reader.” He glanced over at her and tilted his head. “You truly found nothing to interest you in that shop? I thought I caught a glimpse of you reading something quite intensely…”

Anzu tried very hard not to choke on the mouthful she was halfway through swallowing. “I…” She pondered for a moment whether or not to tell him, but…but surely he of all people would sympathize with her. 

“I found…some romance novels,” she said, staring hard at the nearby shrubbery and feeling the blush creep back onto her face. “Written about me. A few paired me with Haurchefant, some with Aymeric, and…a very racy one with Estinien.” Her blush grew more fierce remembering the words on that page. “Honestly, how do these things come to be written in the first place…?”

She finally stole a glance at G’raha, who’d fixed her with an apologetic yet amused smile. “People do love to write about their heroes…in all sorts of ways,” he said. 

“I suppose I should expect it it, given who I am,” Anzu said, frowning slightly. “Although it would be nice if they were heroic instead of…titillating.” 

“So it goes,” G’raha chuckled. “You know, come to think of it…” He leaned his head to the sky, lost in thought. “A few books of that like were in the stash the Ironworks sent with me when I travelled to the First. Tomes of all sorts written about the Warrior of Light, some more outlandish than others. Yes…I think I read one or two, myself.”

Anzu’s meat pie slid from her hands and splatted pathetically on the ground. “You what?!”

Very suddenly realizing what he had just said, G’raha’s eyes went wide as saucers and he spun to face her. “N-not for the reasons you may think,” he sputtered. “It was just to pass the time—purely out of academic curiosity! Had I known…”

Even as the words spilled from his mouth, Anzu found herself burying her face in her hands. Perhaps it was childish of her; since they’d become a couple, she’d grown comfortable with the intimacy between them. But still…

She heard G’raha sigh, felt him gently take her hands in his and lower them so they could see each others’ faces. A look of shame fell over his features. “Pray forgive my careless words,” he said, sounding repentant. “I empathize with your discomfort. Truly, I do.”

His eyes dropped, and she noticed a tinge of red in his cheeks. “What do you mean by that?” she asked.

He cleared his throat just a little. “During my time on the First, I became aware of several novels written about the Crystal Exarch, of varying levels of…frivolity.”

She stared at him, a little blankly at first, as her mind processed this new information. G’raha continued, trying—and failing—to sound completely composed.

“Despite my protestations, the books entered general circulation, and I realized I was fighting a losing battle. I was forced to concede to the will of the people. And doubtless those books still remain on the shelves of the Cabinet of Curiosity to this very day.” The blush bloomed further across his face, and he took a breath. “Should it please you…you have my blessing to seek out any such books the next time you visit the First. ‘Tis only fair.”

She continued to stare at him for a few moments longer, her shame slowly melting away, replaced by a very small sense of impish glee. She pursed her lips in an attempt to hide her smile. “So then,” she started, “do you think there could be any such frivolous books pairing the Crystal Exarch and the Warrior of Darkness? Romantically?” she asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

G'raha was dumbstruck for half a moment as he seemed to realize what she was doing. His eyes darted away and a forced, thin smile appeared on his lips. “By now, I've no doubt there are several.”

“Shall I bring one back with me next time, then?” Anzu asked, a giggle slipping through. “Perhaps we could read it together.”

G'raha finally let out a short laugh himself, his smile warming. “If such is your wish. It may even prove to be quite…entertaining.” His hands squeezed hers, his thumb brushing up and down her wrist, his crimson eyes twinkling.

And quite suddenly, Anzu's blush returned in full.

[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.

[girderednerve]

i want to talk about FANFICTION for the VAMPIRE SHOW, beloved mutuals please avert yr eyes unless you are also into that

actually sidebar i have a coworker at the library who writes paranormal romance novels & got excited when i mentioned the vampire show. apparently she completely missed that anne rice had died? even though it happened, uh, three years ago? which is normal actually but i had a moment of deep confusion where i was like, 'but how could anyone miss the "fanfiction is finally legal" jokes? they were everywhere,' but fortunately most people do not have the same relationship to online that i do. ANYWAY!

one of the things that i really like about reading fanfiction is that all of the fandoms have their little trends & takes, in-jokes & weird arguments & stylistic trends. i can't be sure but i believe that the earlier fan writing culture for the books (& the '94 movie) is very different from the new wave focused on the show, but i am a neophyte. a poser. & because queen goth held a grudge against fanfiction for a time, it's very difficult to figure out whether i'm right about this or not. the book fic on ao3 that i've read is fascinating, though! it's a very sexy kind of sexless, which i have chosen to read as accommodating of one's physical dysphoria because it pleases me to do so; & like every other piece of period romantic fiction it fascinates me with which historical details fic writers seem to care about (very few, lol). if you have thoughts or recommendations please share!! i should just read the books but alas it has not happened for me yet, i might just try jumping to the vampire lestat & seeing if that gets me anywhere

one of the things i have been thinking about a lot is the kind of relationship that fans who are reading & writing about louis & lestat want to find between the two of them, because they are the founding couple for the rice vampires, right? their marital problems are kind of universe-defining, so it's interesting to me to think about what the boundaries are. fanfiction tends to go one of two ways: lestat & louis have always loved one another & their problems stem from louis' failure to understand lestat, or lestat has always taken advantage of louis (&, usually, that's sexy). i don't think either of these capture what i find so bewitching about the show, but then i have not done an exhaustive survey & may be a very bad reporter. the thing i like about the two of them is that it's always both, it's always neither, their relationship is always a living project, subject to redefinition by both sides, which feels very true to me. but especially after s1, there was some interest in bracketing one's desire to think about the gay vampires with clear acknowledgment that the relationship under consideration follows a familiar cultural model of domestic violence. which, like, it does! the fact that we go back over some of these key events in s2 & reframe them doesn't (or, in my view at least, shouldn't require us to) unmake the earlier narrative. they're just in tension with each other. all this to say i found it immensely clarifying to read fanfiction which was interested in defending lestat after s1, especially in comparison to the apologies that he explicitly makes in s2.

there's the vampire question, right, or i guess the fiction problem in general; if these people are made up & we are making them up again, how seriously do we have to take the harm that they do to each other? lestat murders louis, pressures him into doing more murders, brutally assaults him, and tries to have him killed; louis tries to kill lestat. also both of them say some very mean things to each other. however, they are vampires! so we don't have to treat it literally, right? we can just sort of go 'ah, but it's different for vampires,' and then return to our romance novel plot structure. this kind of fanfiction approach is really invested in whether these two people love each other & know that they are loved; there's a big focus on who says it to whom & when, which is interesting to me because it so obviously runs on fantasy logic. the question is never 'does lestat really love louis' or vice versa, but what does it mean that they love each other & act this way? is there some bright line beyond which love becomes impossible? and if not, what does it look like to return to one another? and that is a romance novel structure, too: the whole subgenre of second-chance romance, which i don't often read because i mostly don't like hearing about heterosexual marriages. but they're gay vampires, so surely it is different,

the contrast is why it is so fun to read armand & daniel's whole fucked up deal next to louis & lestat's whole fucked up deal, because it makes the latter pair seem almost vanilla by comparison. but it isn't! what armand is doing is just more literal. we reshape the people around us, right? we write narratives together, we remember differently together than apart; i think about this a lot because every time i talk to my mom we talk about my dad & we remember him differently every single time, & we talk about that too; anger, regret, embarrassment, fondness by turns, in tension. it is true of relationships which are less painful, too. but why am i reading about vampires if i am interested in the small-scale cyclical human drama of annoyance & forgiveness, self-recriminations & external blame? i don't want a series of carefully phrased i statements which read as a manual for how someone else thinks i should try to run my relationships! i want to read about something less literal & more visceral, because i can hardly fit my own feelings in my body most of the time & i would like an excuse for someone else to be roiling in drama. anyway i have found it hard to find fan writing which wants to be there with me, because i think it troubles the romantic mode. probably i am just not doing a very good job searching. anyway i think it is very romantic to be remade by people who love us & also the most terrifying thing i can imagine, and i can't resolve that so i don't want the story to resolve it either. and for whatever reason it's easier to read hundreds of fanfictions than it is to just read, the book, i don't know

the other thing that i have been thinking about reading fanfiction is women. revolutionary, i realize. i love antoinette, who i feel was very hard done by in the story & for whom i expected to see sympathy in fanfiction (don't laugh at me!). anyway there isn't really much for her, which makes me sad; lestat ate her life & wasn't even interested in her, which is classic lestat (derogatory). also i wanted to read about claudia, not as an angel but as a person who calls madeleine her 'one thing,' who cut off another woman's breast & kept it in her armoire, whose instinct for viciousness lestat admires & louis seems neutral on. i want to watch her do stuff, but both of these characters usually fade into the background; claudia's a barrier or a catalyst or a painting on the wall, antoinette is an annoyance, madeleine's a wholesome consolation prize. also i am always thinking about vampire money(.mp3)

maybe i should just read academic scholarship instead. maybe that would make me less annoying, or more productively annoying. i should walk to the college library & see if i can get my hands on their copy of 'our vampires, ourselves'

[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.

[punkasshunter]

Pretty sure it was this (old af) ask meme

https://www.tumblr.com/punkasshunter/148124767301/reblog-and-tag-with-your-ocs-names

...You know what, sure, I'll answer this reblogged ask meme from 2016. These are all kinda brief and I could probably go in a bit further, but it's not totally in me rn so apologies

Full Name: Adrian Elizabeth Lamb

Gender and Sexuality: Pansexual trans male

Pronouns: He/him/his

Ethnicity/Species: Caucasian human. Uh. Mutated human

Birthplace and Birthdate: 02/19/1990, Waterbury CT, USA

Guilty Pleasures: I had to resist answering this one with "Bro take a fucking guess" /j, but the less obvious answer is that he was an early-era tumblr aesthetic blogger who felt like at 19 he might be still a little too invested in Pokemon

Phobias: Apart from the very reasonable fears about dying in various ways in the next hour which don't really count as phobias, dogs, being in moving cars post-infection

What They Would Be Famous For: Definitely not being upheld as more sentient and different than other infected, despite his own protest and to his horror, which is absolutely not true

What They Would Get Arrested For: Probably all the killing and cannibalism but it's debatable if you could get him on first degree

OC You Ship Them With: [REDACTED]

OC Most Likely To Murder Them: [REDACTED] :) Just kidding. It'd actually most likely be Cat. Nicole aka Miss Pink Hunter is a potential second but maybe not quite as much as you'd think

Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Horror which was absolutely not just me projecting at the time I was developing his interests

Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: God can I really say anything else but the horrible shocking transgender reveal, and this poor dude came out in like 2006

Talents and/or Powers: Obviously the fucked-up Hunter mutation green flu stuff. Muscular structure altered for being able to jump way farther than humanly possible and land from extreme heights, plus his response to pain or exertion (although not the actual sensation) being largely shut off. Fucked-up claws and teeth. Plus the fact that he's even still got an incredible read on people, to the point it can be unsettling, and is super determined which makes the state of hopelessness he was ground into kinda stand out more

Why Someone Might Love Them: From people reading him and in-fic the people around him, the top response seems to be "HE IS TRYING HIS BEST" lol. Uncommonly thoughtful and empathetic, not "for an infected" but just in general. Has the grit to keep going and try to pull those close to him through in horrible situations.

Why Someone Might Hate Them: As readers, probably just that everyone and their mother with infected characters has a Hunter OC, which man, let us live a little lol. In fic, uh, the whole murderous pseudo-zombie thing is a pretty big sticking point. It also can actually turn into a point of contention that he can often want to "save everyone" to the point of both self-destruction and not being able to effectively help anyone

How They Change:

Okay that's the kind of jokey answer, but also over the course of fic, reclaiming a lot of his agency and finding himself more able to engage with things besides bare survival, including connecting with other people

Why You Love Them: My boy. One of my two oldest still actively used OCs along with Skyler. You have grown so far with me over the past almost 14 years. And by GOD were you my egg OC. 😭 "Ohh, I wonder why it resonates with me so deeply exploring the conjunction between a transgender experience and sudden, involuntary changes that drastically shift your self-perception of your own body, self, and experience" Bro you are several years from excising your gender and naming yourself after rabies virus