#content for a small fandom and a very? rare pair

[the-travelling-witch]

summary: just some small hand holding headcanons ♡

pairings: katsuki :: hawks :: shouto :: deku x gn! reader

miscellaneous masterlist (i really need to give bnha it's own ml soon, i will infiltrate this fandom /silly)

update: i made a bnha masterlist

katsuki likes intertwining your fingers. at the start of your relationship, he was hesitant to do so, afraid he could accidentally hurt you with his quirk or scare you off with how hot and rough they are (not that he ever told you as much). so when you slowly warmed him up to the idea, he held your hand very carefully at first.

by now, however, his grip on you is firm and self-assured, pulling you closer to him in crowded areas or just enjoying the feel of your hand in his calloused one. the pro hero has also resigned himself to being your own personal hand warmer in the winter, cupping your freezing fingers between his palms with only minimal complaining.

keigo likes playing with your hands. whether you’re watching a movie on a rare night in or you’re in a restaurant with your hands resting on the table, chances are keigo is reaching over to cradle your hand in his, a boyish grin on his handsome face.

sometimes it’s really just him fiddling with your fingers to keep his own busy. but in instances where it’s just the two of you, he’s tracing his thumb along the length of your fingers and mapping the lines on your palms, culminating in the featherlight kisses he flutters against your knuckles and wrist.

shouto likes linking your pinkies. sure, he’s much more confident in your relationship than at the beginning, where he’d basically wait for you to initiate affection for him to know this was okay. back then, it was his way of asking for affection in whatever way you would see fit to show him at the moment.

but even after learning more about both you and himself, as well as the social norms around dating, he has taken a liking to the gesture. it is sweet and low-key enough to not draw much attention if you’re out and about, but still a good way to ground himself and make sure you’re still there with him.

izuku likes it when you play with his hands. even as an adult he still has the habit of losing himself in his rambled tangents at times and taking his hand in yours is an effective way of snapping him out of it.

the gentle way with which you hold him, like he was a delicate thing, lifts the responsibilities of always putting other’s well-being before his own right off his shoulders. deku is too flustered to ever say it out loud but, when you lovingly trace and kiss the scars on his hands instead of looking at them as if they’re a flaw, his ears and cheeks feel like they’ve been set ablaze.

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[yandere-sins]

The Orcas' Tale - Lyr's Story I

And here he is, our sweetest, craziest, loveliest boy ♥ Honestly, it was fun giving Lyr a bit more personality than he had in the original story, and I am also glad to have provided him with a cute little darling of his own. I hope you guys enjoy slipping into the role of a mermaid, and ehem look forward to a different kind of spice (;

Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere!Orca Merman x GN!AFAB!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Non-Con Kissing/Touching/Fingering, Bondage kind of), Violence (Threats to kill/harmm reader, Sharp teeth/claws, Almost tearing off reader's jaw), Monsters/Non-Human reader, Animalistic behavior, Mention of blood/claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death/non-con, Feeding the reader seal meat, Being caught in a net, Long post

"They just won't stop bugging! Like, I get it, Mom, bringing a human into the pod was stupid and dangerous, but it's not our fault that Nerrocan left!"

Heaving a deep sigh, Lyr looked up at the water's surface through the holes in the ceiling of the cove he had found. Light was shimmering into the mostly calm water, a few tiny fish slipping in and out of the cave-like structure while he rested on his back, ignoring any wildlife of the ocean as he had no interest in small fry. They didn't get close enough to be caught, wary of the superior predators of the sea, who, unbeknownst to anyone's eyes, looked more like friends hanging out than what they really were—captor and captive.

Despite his annoyance and loud complaining, he looked tired. You had witnessed many a mood of his ever since he decided to hide you away for his own enjoyment, but as of late, every time Lyr visited you, he looked more exhausted than the last. As usual, his eyes were dull, and his dorsal fin collapsed. For an orca in his best years, he looked like he'd been dragged through the blue hell, but it invoked no sympathy inside you. All you could do was listen and observe, but knowing he was the merman responsible for your misery, you felt no pity for your clearly mentally unstable captor. Reaching to his left, Lyr picked another piece of meat from the seal carcass he had hunted, slipping the food into his mouth before continuing his rant.

"Who'd have known that guy had it in him. Can't help but respect him getting the fuck out of the pod, and I'm glad I don't have to see his wannabe goody two-fin face anymore. It's been getting harder to put him in his place with how aggressive he suddenly got."

"Won't they miss him?"

Lyr stopped chewing, his head falling to the side, facing you. Muddy purple eyes sprang to life, reflecting the light as brilliant as rare corals. With one big gulp, he devoured what had been left of his meal, a toothy grin spreading over his lips. "Look who decided to talk! Who's gonna miss him? His mommy? Sure. It's not like she has a dozen more just like him."

For a moment, you held his stare, watched the grin stretch wider, and twisted his expression into a grimace before you lowered your eyes, settling on drawing swirls into the sand. It wasn't like you wanted to have a conversation with him, but listening day in and day out to his crazy rambles and complaints was just as bovine as engaging with the madman. 

"That's not very nice. I'm sure his mom loves them all equally. You've got a big family, after all."

"Nah," he retorted, shaking his head. Picking out a bone from the seal's body, he used it as a toothpick, cleaning out the sharp-edged teeth he loved flashing you. "Orcas aren't like yours. We don't love each other just because we share the same blood or come from the same mother. Either you're useful to the pod and do what you're told, or you're at the very bottom of the food chain. I could never be the same as Krill, no matter how hard I tried. He was always Mom's favorite, so now I just don't try anymore. It doesn't even matter to them where I am, but it suits me. Now I got a lot more time to spend with ya!"

Now it was your time to grimace while Lyr flopped onto his side and closer to you, surely noticing the tension growing in your body as you felt appalled by the ever-closing distance. He tossed the bone carelessly into the water while your movements abruptly stopped. You wished it was as easy as the flap of your fin to get away from him, but you were rendered helpless to his touch, unable to get away from his pointed finger dragging over your forearm, his claw teasing your softer skin. He didn't just have the advantage of size, but you knew that no matter how haggard he might appear, you'd be no match against him in a scuffle. Much less now that you were trapped.

And your growling stomach wasn't helping.

While you let out an exasperated groan, Lyr laughed loudly about your misery, finding your dependency on him to not starve hilarious. As much as you despised being at his mercy, you had no choice but to humor him if you wanted to survive, even when he enjoyed your reluctant behavior so much that he held his stomach aching from laughter. 

"You could have just told me you're hungry!" he teased, grinning from ear to ear at you while you gave him an ashamed glare, staying silent as a stone in your spot, belly-down in the sand. "I don't mind sharing, ya know? There's still so much of this yummy seal left, it would be a shame to give it to the fish. You know what you gotta do to earn it, right?"

Gritting your teeth, you watched the smugness wash over his expression as he sent you into yet another predicament. You even considered eating a heap of sand instead of bowing to his will. As if being trapped wasn't enough, he just had to exploit you at every chance he got, and you hated how easily your survival instinct made these reckless decisions for you, which he'd never let you live down. The hole in your stomach didn't get any smaller. Lyr's last visit had been a few days already, and you were in no condition to hunt efficiently for yourself. So aside from small, stupid fish that came too close to you, you hadn't eaten outside of his visits, and it was starting to show. 

You knew what you had to do. Unfortunately.

No matter how much your brain screamed at you not to, your body knew it instinctively, propping itself onto your forearms while you sighed inwardly, feeling defeated by your needs. Moving was the hardest part about being caught in a net. It was an unusual heavy net with clunky weights that had slung around your fin and lower body, dragging you to the ground where Lyr had found you. Even he had been surprised by the sturdiness of this net when he first inspected it but quickly had taken advantage of the situation, dragging you to this much more hidden place and out of plain sight so he had you all to himself. At least he didn't kill you; that's what you told yourself. But death was more merciful than Lyr, that much you knew by now. 

He had no problem being patient when it meant watching you struggle as you dragged yourself toward him. Lyr didn't even mind you digging your meager claws into his skin when you grabbed onto him, using his body to support yourself while you lifted off the ground, close enough to feel his watery breath ghost against your face. Placing your lips over his, you flinched away in reluctance before forcing yourself to keep going, counting to three this time before twisting your head to the side. 

Lyr hummed, sounding dissatisfied as you felt his hand brush up your spine. Nesting his palm at the nape of your neck, you refused to look forward again until he twisted his own head to find your lips, his much sharper, much more dangerous claws only curling into place the second he got what he wanted. Now, with an appreciative chortle, he relished in stealing another kiss, tongue swiping over your pursed lips until he found a hole in your defense, worming into your mouth. 

You were no stranger when it came to mating habits, but compared to your fellow dolphins, Lyr was surprisingly gentle. He relished in your defiance but seemed to enjoy enticing little moans and gasps from you just as much. His tongue was a choking hazard in a mouth that wasn't fit to house it. Though you had gills, you could barely concentrate on breathing while you fought against him as best as you could. Still, he took his sweet time exploring every inch, letting air flow out of his mouth and into yours, never not considering you while doing what he wanted. He even softened his hold on you, rubbing his palms down your back in a spine-tingling motion when you stopped struggling against him. It was almost like he was rewarding you for good behavior, and it was sickeningly pleasurable.

But the taste of flesh and blood lingering on his tongue made your stomach growl, your body eagerly moving towards him, hoping to find food. All you gained was a chuckle before he nicked your lower lip with his sharp teeth in warning. Your fangs probably wouldn't be able to bite through his thick tongue, but despite this weird obsession he had with you, he was almost more wary of you than you of him. It seemed like he could never cut himself loose completely despite having nothing to fear from an easy target like you. He seemed so relaxed and unbothered whenever he visited you, but it was almost as if he was plagued by invisible ghosts whispering into his ears. 

Despite his warning, you found his arms wrapping around your body, pulling you on top of him before you two rolled over to the other side, Lyr resting you gently down in the sand. He didn't care that the net that had trapped you to the ocean floor also got dragged over his tail, unbothered by possibly getting stuck like you were. Perhaps he simply didn't mind that thought as much as you did. To be fair, considering he was much stronger and the material had yet to wrap around and get stuck on his fins like it had with yours, it posed no threat to the orca. And yet, it was infuriating to you, who wanted nothing more than to swim away and reunite with your own kind. 

Propping his arm in the sand next to your head, he looked down at you with a satisfied smile and a mischievous spark in his eyes but reached over you, grabbing a piece of seal meat. He brought it up to your lips, dabbing it against them, though you refused to open for him. "I can feed myself just fine," you reminded him, wiggling your hands in the air to demonstrate your ability to hold things before trying to take the food from him.

"Now, don't be ungrateful, or I'll bring you a turtle shell to gnaw on next time."

You could feel your face contort in disgust at his suggestion, reluctantly parting your lips to nib at the food dangling in front of your face. Once you had a taste of meat, your body couldn't resist, gobbling up every last bite hungrily while Lyr kept providing it for you with a smile. If he wasn't fast enough, your teeth would drag over his fingers, but he wouldn't even flinch or scold you, his fin slapping against the sand instead, almost as if he enjoyed your nibbles. 

Seal wasn't your preferred food, but in times of food scarcity—like it has ever since getting holed up with Lyr—it was as good as any. The rest of the carcass was devoured faster than your excited stomach wanted, and you still didn't feel satisfied after eating every last piece. Had you been free, you'd have gone hunt for more without a moment of rest. But the gnawing hunger had subsided at least, and if Lyr came back again soon, you'd at least not have to endure it for too long until the next meal. 

Pausing your thoughts, you realized you had just longed for Lyr to provide for you again soon, immediately turning the hunger into nausea as you pondered on it. 

You were too quiet, too long for his taste as he sought out your lips again after your meal. Brushing his thumb over them, your instinct mistook his finger for more food. You could barely stop yourself from biting into his gnarly claw as the urge to eat won over again. However, your mouth was open long enough as realization dawned on you of what you were doing, for him to cup your face instead, turning it slightly to him so his tongue could lick over your lips and dip in again. Lyr hummed merrily as he tasted the seal on you, unashamed, unbothered by you struggling to keep him out, fingers wrapping around his throat—unsuccessful in deterring him. He was waiting for your breath to run out before taking the chance to deepen the kiss again, ever so patient with you. 

"I think I get it now," he mumbled, breaking the kiss before leaving some more superficial brushes of his lips against yours. "Nerrocan was onto something. We just didn't know it."

"Why didn't you go with him then?" you mumbled back, turning your face away to avoid any more unwanted affection, even if it meant resting it in his palm. 

To your surprise, Lyr scoffed loudly, and you flinched away as you could feel his mood shift. His palm didn't grow stiff and rigid. However, you still forced yourself away from it, too afraid he might—possibly on accident, but much more likely intentionally—rake his claws over your face, leaving wounds deep and painful. It was useless, however, as he used the same hand to collect your floating hair instead, forcing you to look at him while his gaze drilled into you with fury swirling in his eyes. 

"Listen, I might not remember how we got to that place, but I know all the shit they did to us!" 

You whimpered as he pulled your hair back, your neck struggling to keep up with his demands from your position. Lyr took a sharp breath, pausing the angry flashing of his fangs as he watched you cowering in front of him, ever so slightly calming down at the sight of fear flashing in your eyes. You hated him when he mocked you and also when he was delighted in your suffering. But you hated his anger more, his haggard body still crushing and his fangs and claws sharp despite whatever he went through. One bite into your throat, and you were a goner, especially with how exposed the soft flesh was to him now.

"I'll never go back there! Never! They cut us open, prod inside us with their disgusting hands, and inject strange fluids into me! They… They changed us. Changed me. And now I don't even know–"

His hand was trembling in your hair as he let out a shuddering breath. You caught his eyes for only a split second, watching the brilliant purple turn into mushy darkness. Lyr shook his head as if confused while his voice trailed off, his free hand rising as he hid his face from you for a moment. You weren't sure if you were supposed to say anything, and even if, what could you say to that? You had no idea what he's been through, and even though you had your fair share of struggles in your life, you never experienced something quite as dramatic as he described. Then again, why would you try to comfort him? Lyr was perfectly able to help you in your time of need but had refused cutting the net for you again and again. Why would you give him kindness if he refused to do the same for you?

Being free of his attention, your eyes fell lower on his body. Just shy of where your tail rested over his. With his tail flipped over, you had a clear view of his collapsed dorsal fin, a pitiful sight for any creature like you. It made you think that something was wrong with him in the first place, as this was an unusual sight on any of your kinds. If what he said was true, maybe this experience had done this to him, understandably so, as it sounded awful. You couldn't bring yourself not to pity him despite your negative feelings towards him. 

Next to you, Lyr took a deep breath, pushing his short hair out of his face before he searched for your gaze. Desperately. Needy. Somewhere to ground him. You weren't sure what you saw in the darkened violet, but his features looked drained of vitality, as if the moment of silence had exhausted him completely. It made him look… vulnerable. But then he smiled again, his eyes lit up, and the strange feelings swirling in his irises were covered by excitement as he found yours, soaking in the sight before him.

"I really do get it now," he admitted, grin parting his lips, revealing his protruding upper left fang, the sharpest of them all. "I was so confused about the strange looks Nerrocan gave the human, but I realize I've been the same with ya—whatever it means. I keep coming back here just to see you. I want to stay right here with you, forever. Just us two. I'll hunt for us and make this cave pretty. Whatcha think, lil' dolphin?" 

"N-No, I don't think that will work," you mumbled, averting your eyes again as his gaze became too intense to keep up the eye contact. He seemed to drill into you as if to excavate your soul and lay it bare for him to tease and enjoy. You didn't like it one bit when he looked at you so intensely. 

You could tell by now that he was working himself into another ramble, but you didn't like how much it focused around you. Usually, he was complaining about his situation in his pod and how much his mom hounded him with expectations. Lately, his rants focused more on the human and Nerrocan and the waves their arrival and disappearance caused in their family. But while he was always strange when it came to you, being the sole focus of his attention felt uncomfortable. 

"I'm not sure I understand, but my pod is probably searching for me, and I've been away for so long already. They probably miss me terribly! If- If only I could get the net off, I wouldn't have to bother you at all! I'd be gone before you know it, and you wouldn't have to look after me! I'd be fine! Maybe you can try cutting it again with your claws, or… or maybe--"

Lifting your torso from the ground, you grabbed the net at its highest point, tugging at it and trying to loosen it up. You realized it was you who was rambling this time, but the conversation had taken a turn that you didn't want to make reality at all cost. You couldn't imagine yourself being this guy's pretty little cave warmer for all eternity, preferring the roughness of your own kind over his madness. Orcas weren't known to be gentle housemakers, no matter how much Lyr tried to sell it to you. Not even when he handled you gently, yet never did what you wanted. 

However, you were surprised when he reached down to the net, yanking at it with you. A yelp escaped you as he pulled your tail over his, the net cutting into your flesh painfully as he twisted and pulled until you had to fold up your tail, getting more and more caught. Nets usually weren't as much of a problem to sirens, but this one was sturdier and heavier than any fishing net you had encountered in your long life. 

So when Lyr caught your hands in it, you began to panic. 

"Wait! I'm getting wrapped up in it! Please stop, this isn't helping!" Your plea was ignored as Lyr slung the grating material over your wrists a few more times, ignoring your thrashing and panic with the calm of someone who had all the time in the world. Who had nothing to fear, especially not you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to make him understand you wanted to get out of the net and not strung up in it more until he was done messing with you, flipping you over and pulling you close against him.

"That's not what I meant," you sobbed as he rested his head on top of yours, only cushioned by the arm he lent you as a headrest. 

"Isn't this so much better?" he asked, feigning innocence. But you couldn't believe his audacity to make you even more miserable. It was as if he wanted to make you as miserable as he was. "This way, you can't leave without my help. And I doubt your little pod will find you here."

"I just want to go home," you mumbled, anger slowly overtaking as the panic subsided. Your hands were bound tightly, your fin being the one hurting when you tried to lift them and vice versa. You felt truly trapped, and that made you angry rather than sad. It was strange, considering how, just a few minutes ago, you had almost pitied this male, but now, all you felt was rage.

"It's your home, now. Our home. We'll live here, unbothered by others. Just the two of us."

"It's not my home! Let me go!" you snapped, lips pulled back in a snarl. Dolphins were by far not the scariest predators, but your teeth were sharp and threatening as well! 

Or so you thought.

Lyr laughed at your display of a threat, seemingly amused that you were still fighting him. Without warning, he raised his hand to your face, squeezing both sides of your jaw until the pressure forced you to open it, and stuck his pointer and middle finger inside. He only needed these two to press your tongue down, your mouth wide agape with his claws scarily close to the back of your throat. You tried to close your jaw, bite down until he'd retract his hand, but Lyr didn't care. He didn't even mind your teeth digging into his flesh, leaving cute little cuts against his slick skin. 

"Careful, lil' dolphin. You're not in a position to make such scary demands of me, don't you know that already? I could kill ya." 

Unafraid of getting hurt, the pressure on your lower jaw increased, fingers purposely impaling themselves on your teeth while pain made you jolt as you felt your jaw dislodging slowly. You wiggled your trapped body, gurgling against his fingers before finally looking up at him as best as possible from your position, noticing the smug grin on his face. 

"I won't, of course."

Pulling his fingers out of your mouth, dragging out the motion until the last moment, you coughed, the taste of his blood on your tongue. There was no time to recover as Lyr nuzzled his face into the side of yours, oblivious to the thrumming in your jaw as you tried to relax it while the blood flow resumed. 

"You're too much fun alive, so I won't kill you," he admitted, grabbing your hands that rested against your chest and pulling them down, elevating some of the strain on your tail, and you finally breathed out. "But if you want to get rid of the net, maybe we can find a way to make this even more fun?"

You felt his lips sink to your cheek, your jawline, then trailing down your neck. A kiss for every one of your gills. The water around you was gentle and warm, but at that moment, it was like jumping into the ice-cold ocean after sunbathing on the surface, shocking and shivering through every bone of yours. 

While the arm your head rested on wrapped around your collarbones, holding on to your shoulder, the other hand started to wander lower. His fingers played around with the net, cutting through some of the squares until he could stick his hand through it, placing his palm on your stomach before sinking it dangerously low and pulling your hands down with it. So you wouldn't be able to grasp his arm on top, trying to make him stop as Lyr nibbled on your earlobe, the protruding fang drawing blood that he licked up without hesitation.

"Stop that!" you complained as his touch grew uncomfortably intimate, the pain in your jaw reverberating as you spoke. It had long dawned on you what his definition of 'fun' was, but you weren't as naive as to believe he'd actually stick to his word and cut you loose after getting what he wanted. It was better not to risk it than risk it for nothing. Your kind wasn't known to be gentle to their chosen lovers, but you never thought about mating with an orca. It wasn't normal! Wasn't what you were made to do! And if you were to survive it… you didn't want to think of the carnage that all of him would leave behind on your body. 

If his size was any indication, you were sure you couldn't take him without getting absolutely ruined in the process—and not the pleasurable kind of destroyed. More the ripped apart and bleeding out type. 

His hand found your slit, fingertip brushing lightly yet incessantly over it, leaving a tingling trail in its wake. You whimpered, ashamedly so, but instead of the expected mockery, you felt his chest rumble, a purr reaching your ears. It was soothing, relaxing, his body warming you from behind even as you desperately tried to deny feeling anything from his touch. 

But Lyr wasn't stingy with his surprises.

A chirp so oddly familiar resounded behind you, yet you were sure you had never heard that voice before. It took you a moment of complete stillness to realize it had been Lyr making that sound, yet it wasn't orca. It was dolphin. "How did you…?" you gasped, ignoring his inquisitive fingers prodding at your entrance, begging to be let in without having to use force.

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, lil' dolphin," he hummed, imitating some more whistles and clicks that were perfect and comforting, like the calls of your pod, yet were spoken by an uncanny voice. You felt the tears well up in our eyes again, as you couldn't help but gasp, following it with a moan, his finger slipping into you, teasing the soft, warm flesh awaiting him there. Lyr let out an appreciative sound that made your core clench with desire, all praise and all dolphin for letting him in. 

"You don't even like me," you gasped, hands wringing in the net. You were completely and utterly caught in this trap, and he had free range to your body while slowly gaining access to your very soul by imitating your own kind's calls of desire and adoration. Lyr's mouth pulled taut in a big grin as he felt you unwillingly relax and shudder in his arms, your tail buckling into his hand. You looked up to see the madness dance with satisfaction and need in his eyes before he leaned down to kiss you.

"That's where you're wrong, lil' dolphin," he chuckled, kissing you one more time, long and with relish, his fingers playing with you, adding one after the other as you loosened up to him, exploring the depths not meant for an orca.

"I like you very, very much."

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #4248:

I love it /s when I'm in a very small fandom or a very dead fandom or have a very rare pair or a very obscure blorbo and I'm talking about how I wish there was more fans or more content or more anything and people just go "WELL CREATE MORE!! WRITE YOUR OWN FICS!! DRAW YOUR OWN FAN ART!!! DON'T JUST COMPLAIN ABOUT IT!!" Like hahaha, yes, I got it. I've got it. As well meaning as that may be, I AM making art. And writing fic. Like, almost constantly. And as disappointing as it is to spend hours and hours working on something that virtually nobody ever really sees, I do try to keep reminding myself that "other people" shouldn't be the motivation, I should do it for MY satisfaction, and it shouldn't matter if it gets a thousand likes or a hundred or ten or one or none, as long as I'm happy I made it. But even then, it doesn't stop being lonely when there's nobody else around to share ideas with. The sharing of ideas is like one of the core tenets of fandom. So yeah, it's still pretty lonely and disappointing and I'd like to be able to voice that without people jumping on me to act like it's all my fault for not putting in enough effort.

[seraphscrypt]

Here is where I'll ramble about my Dandy's World OTPs and other small things (probably)

Template by faworkiio

Firstly, I include Razzle and Dazzle under platonic with Scraps and Goob because Dazzle calls Scraps his "paper sibling", so to me they're the third and fourth of the craft siblings!!

Angryhugs Literally my first pair ever in this fandom because of their interaction. The argument I see of "Shrimpo hates Goob!!" drives me up the wall because Shrimpo hates EVERYTHING and EVERYONE, it's not targeted. I personally view Shrimpo as someone who internalized looking down on himself and instead says he's the best/better than everyone else, it's easier to keep people at arms-length, and in general anger issues. Goob, on the other hand, loves everyone/is the exact opposite of Shrimpo in that. Goob tries to show Shrimpo a kindness that, because of his own doing, he struggles to comprehend. In the vain of "Everyone wants a reaction out of me so they'll get the worst kind." No matter what Goob tries to reach out, sometimes he backs down but he really wants to try. I wouldn't say my OTP of them is romantic (like a lot of them) but it's that close bond and a lot of working through, a space for healing.

Moonlightshow Definitely my second pair that grew into a poly. What I love about these three is that they're always there for each other. Astro is always willing to help Vee, Vee does similar in return (even in regards to Twisteds, which Vee would die way faster than Astro could gameplay-wise). Brightney and Vee have sort of awkward interactions but it's very apparent that Vee finds interest in hanging out with Brightney, especially because Brightney is so knowledgeable on a lot of things. Astro and Brightney are together often, especially in regards to what to read. Astro overall isn't the most talkative but his girlfriends fill the quiet space and he enjoys that a lot.

Mirrormystery Anyone who follows should know this is one of my favorites as of late, especially with all the content between these two in particular (officially). Rodger and Glisten fit together very well, not only design aesthetic wise (their color palettes literally compliment each other so well I can't stop talking about this it makes my brain tingle), but in their dialogue. Rodger teases Glisten, which he rarely does with others if at all, to which Glisten reciprocates as part of their dynamic. Rodger doing that also comes from a place of care for Glisten. As with the new letters in Glisten's room, it's shown that Glisten struggles a lot with being seen as perfect and does overwork himself to the point of dizziness (which might worsen if not tended to). The one who tries tending to him, although Glisten rejects it, is Rodger. Glisten makes it a point that he wants to hang out with Rodger more too. Another silly addition, with Toodles (practically) being Rodger's daughter, Glisten gets along with Toodles so well. Glisten is willing to play with make-up with her and give her all the glitter ever (best step-dad ever). Toodles is also aware that Glisten "cries and complains to Rodger." All three of them are literally a family, I love Toodles and her two dads.

Dinoteaharbor This is one of the rarest pairs I have in this fandom and I haven't talked about it yet so here it goes. A lot of this I take from Teagan's perspective because she's literally my everything and they deserve the best. Teagan themself is an intelligent woman who enjoys having tea parties with any Toon she can invite and is more of the aristocratic type compared to everyone else. I'm also under the belief they have a type for shorter Toons with special interests (she'll listen for hours to them). Dinoteaharbor is less of a love triangle more of a "love acute angle." Shelly I view as sapphic and has no romantic interest in Finn (to which they're comfortable with) and has interest in Teagan. Teagan adores Shelly and really wants to spend more time with her, going as far as to (in canon) invite Shelly to their room for tea time. On the other hand, Finn is someone who likes Teagan and after asking about the tea in her head (sweet tea) said she was sweet. His love for her is less in affections and more in little gifts or cool things he brings from fishing trips. Shelly's love is plenty in affections and adorable dinosaur related flirts that are definitely cheesy. Teagan loves her partners a lot and is the one who has to reach the top shelf everytime.

[orangepanic]

The sad thing about shipping rare-pairs is that some people with the established canon/fanon ships somehow act like our measly ships are a threat to theirs. Like, dudes…you already have so much content to enjoy. Why get upset about the crumbs I’m collecting and sharing with those interested?

I once saw something about how though it's far sunnier in California they will never know desperate joy felt by people in Seattle when the sun comes out. That's how I think of rare pair creations. There may only be one kudo but behind that single kudo someone is screaming with full-throated glee.

So yes, there are small-minded dickwads in every corner of fandom. Sometimes they choose to shit on stuff they don't like. But they are mean little people and I think they're probably on the whole very unhappy when compared to that one kudo-slamming feral screaming beautiful unhinged rare pair fan who just found a single fic of two cartoons kissing.

Keep making what you love and someone else will love it, too.

[triforce-of-mischief]

Whumptober Day 18: Blindfold

Fandoms: Linked Universe, That Broken Promise

Length: long (2300 words)

Summary: Isolated and injured, Legend does his best to avoid sedation and stitches. Chief knows him too well, though, and takes desperate measures to heal his friend.

Warnings: noncon drugging, needles and stitches (referenced instead of directly described because it's Legend pov)

AO3

Chapter 1 2 3

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Legend was bleeding.

This wasn’t a rare occurrence, or even one that he would be particularly worried about under different circumstances. It wasn’t the pain or the blood itself that bothered him. No, he thought as he applied pressure to his arm and watched red stream between his fingers, the injury wasn’t the issue.

He was all but isolated, with no enhancing items to instantly heal himself. What worried him was the fact that his only companion was Chief. Normally he would’ve considered himself lucky to have a trained medic nearby, but he was well acquainted with the fact that the older man shared his phobia. It was an unfortunate position for Chief to be in, even more so since he was the best at his job. Knowing what Chief was capable of, and aware of the deep gash in his arm, Legend’s senses were on high alert.

         The clattering of rocks preceded Chief carefully sliding down the wall of the ravine a few feet away. He landed hard and ran to Legend, one hand already on his bag as he crouched in front of him.

“Let me see,” Chief said urgently, offering his hand between them.

Legend swallowed, then held out his arm so Chief could examine it. The medic’s hissed breath was like a dagger to the chest. Legend knew what that meant, but that didn’t mean he was ready for it.

“I don’t have any supplies,” the vet mumbled, unable to meet the other’s eyes.

“Me neither. Other than… what I always have.”

They both knew what he meant.

“You know I’ll make it fast. Do you want morphine or-”

“I don’t want anything,” Legend snapped. His voice was shaking. He had the feeling that he was, too.

“All right… I’m going to clean it, at least. You can think while I do that.”

Legend watched warily as Chief pulled a few tools out of his bag, holding up each one to prove that they were harmless. They were both silent as Chief cleaned the wound. Legend stubbornly braced himself against the sting.

“It’s still bleeding,” Chief said eventually.

“I know.”

“It’s too deep. It’s going to keep bleeding.”

“I know.”

“Legend.” Chief kept his hands busy, repacking tools and sifting through his bag. “Are you thinking with your fear, or your logic?”

“I-” What kind of question was that? Chief of all people knew how logic ceased to exist in times like this.

“What does your fear say?”

Immediately, Legend answered “No.”

“And what does your logic say?”

“…Yes.”

Chief finished sorting through his bag, then gently grabbed Legend’s hand. “Do you want to let your fear control you?”

Again, it was easy for Legend to say “No.”

He waited for the follow-up question that didn’t come.

“Then we’re not gonna let it.”

It took Legend a few seconds to process Chief’s soft words as he squeezed the vet’s hand and returned to his bag.

“Not gonna- wait, what?” Legend gasped, his lungs constricting as he saw Chief take out a pair of small cloth pouches. He had never seen the contents, but he could very well imagine what he knew was inside.

“Don’t look,” Chief said as he examined a tiny glass vial. He glanced at Legend, pausing when he saw that the vet was staring at him. “I said don’t look. You’re making it worse.”

“I can’t.” Not without somebody there to hold him close, face safely hidden in their shoulder. Otherwise, he just couldn’t look away because he hated seeing what was happening but he also hatedbeing helpless and unaware.

Gods, he wished Wars was there.

“Okay… I have something that may help, but it’s your choice if you want to use it or not. Put it on or don’t. I recommend that you do.”

Chief tossed him a long, narrow strip of fabric, dark enough that no light seeped through it.

“…A blindfold.”

“Yes. I know it’s… not ideal, but it will make this easier if you put it on.” Chief bit his lip, giving Legend a moment to decide.

Legend didn’t want to feel restrained.

He also didn’t want to see what Chief was about to do.

His fingers were shaking and his injured arm was too weak. Chief watched him fumble for a minute before leaning over to tie the blindfold himself.

The sense of misguided safety was instant to settle over him as the blindfold was fit in place. Chief’s packs and their contents were blissfully unknown, hidden beyond the fabric that restricted Legend’s vision no matter how he turned his head.

Legend heard the clinking of metal on glass, and that false security began to shatter. He shrank into himself, trying to remember the timed breathing that Warriors had taught him. Seven in, seven out… or no, there was an eleven in there. Eleven in, seven out? That didn’t feel right either but it didn’t matter because he couldn’t seem to breathe at all anyway.

He somehow managed to say, only somewhat choking on the words, “Chief, wait.”

Chief only sighed. “It’ll be easier if we just get it over with. I’m sorry.”

“No.” Legend pulled his arm closer, like that would prevent Chief from being able to access it. “I know y-you don’t want to do this, you hate this just as much as I do. I know you don’t want to hurt me, Chief, please.”

Chief was quiet for a long moment. Legend didn’t dare breathe, listening for the medic’s next move.

“…I’m going to wrap it. Give me your arm, please?”

Legend didn’t believe that Chief would change tactics so easily. He knew that wrapping it wouldn’t be enough. He kept his arm firmly pressed against his chest.

He heard the soft rustling of fabric. “I’m putting my things away and I’m holding bandages now. I’m just going to wrap the wound, I promise.” Chief was calm and quiet, but Legend still flinched when Chief touched his arm. “Sorry, I’ll warn you next time.”

Sure enough, Chief worked quickly to wrap Legend’s arm until he felt a secure pressure around the injury. Chief didn’t surprise him again, making sure to hum “Touching” every time he readjusted. Legend couldn’t see the bandaging, but he could imagine the red slowly absorbing into each layer. They both knew that it was a temporary solution at best, so why had Chief given up?

“All done,” Chief said, letting Legend pull his arm back.

Legend shuddered, now that he didn’t have to keep still for Chief to work. The medic hadn’t prompted him to take the blindfold off, and that made him uneasy. He had said that he had put his tools away… maybe he still had to clean them.

“I’m going to hug you now, okay?”

Something still felt off.

“You did well, Lege.” Carefully, Chief wrapped his arms around Legend and pulled him close. “You’re gonna be okay.”

That phrase made Legend’s skin crawl. Something wasn’t right.

“You’re still tense, Lege. You can relax now.”

Chief took a deep breath, waiting for Legend to imitate him before he shifted one hand to rub Legend’s shoulder. Legend’s sleeve was still rolled up, away from the bandages, and Legend could feel Chief’s hand rest below it. Legend had lost track of the medic’s other hand.

…Wait.

Almost imperceptibly, Chief pulled Legend closer, enough that Legend would have to struggle to pull away.

Legend’s voice pitched higher with alarm. “…Chief?”

He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t-

“Please forgive me,” Chief whispered.

The next thing Legend felt was a sudden spark of pain in his shoulder, quickly followed by a tendril of cold spreading through his arm. A shrill wail rang in his ears- it was coming from him- as he tried to jerk away, but Chief’s hold was too secure.

It only took a few seconds, then the pain lessened slightly and Chief released Legend completely. The vet threw himself away, not caring about his rough impact with the ground. He curled around himself defensively and cried, “Wh-what did- what did you do!?”

“I’m sorry,” Chief said, almost too quiet to hear. “…It should start working in five minutes.”

His friend had hurt him, he had betrayed him, and he didn’t even have the mercy to offer immediate relief.

Legend was too angry and terrified to even think. He wasn’t aware of anything beyond the agonizingly slow wave of numbness surrounding his arm. Consciousness threatened to fade, once or twice; he absently registered that simultaneous hyperventilating and sobbing made it hard to breathe.

He couldn’t feel his arm anymore. His tears slowed, as did his breathing. He felt… empty, but something pleasant distracted him from why.

“Did the morphine kick in, Lege?”

“Mmmmh…” Legend groaned, taking a moment to collect his thoughts.

Chief didn’t seem willing to wait. “Sounds like it did. Can you feel this?”

“F… feel what?”

“I’m touching your arm. If you can’t feel that, then I’m going to treat it now.”

“Mmkay…”

“Don’t touch the blindfold until I tell you to.” Chief’s voice was calm and steady, and a small voice in the back of Legend’s head didn’t like that.

“Y’know I’m gonna hate you later, right?” Legend slurred. He didn’t really know why he said it. It felt right, though, especially when he heard a soft hiss from Chief.

“…I know. As long as you’re alive and well… that’s what matters.” Chief was quiet after that, and Legend guessed that he was working on his arm. No matter how hard Legend focused, all he could feel was a dull pressure.

Legend zoned out after a few minutes, feeling and thinking next to nothing at all. He startled when Chief spoke for the first time since he had started.

“All done. You can have your arm back now.”

Legend still couldn’t see. He wanted to take the blindfold off, but he vaguely remembered that the medic didn’t want to let him see what he was doing. He heard Chief putting his tools away, so he waited until he heard Chief close his bag. He reached for the tie at the back of his head and tugged the blindfold off, blinking to adjust to the light.

Chief’s back was turned to him, his hands still resting on the bag. His shoulders were shaking.

He always tried to hide it, but Legend knew how hard it was for him too. A whisper of sympathy floated through his mind.

Chief took a deep breath and turned around, freezing when he saw Legend looking at him. He was crying. He quickly rubbed his eyes but Legend had already seen.

“I didn’t say to take it off.”

Legend blinked. “No… but I did.”

“Yes, you did.” Chief sounded tired. Legend watched him take a deep breath before he asked, “How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?”

Legend hummed, looking down at his bandaged arm. “No… still can’t feel it.”

“Good… that’s good. Let me know when that changes.” The medic dragged his hands down his face, then turned to sort through his bag.

Another sense of wrong started to poke at the back of Legend’s mind. Normally, Chief would have left by now. They both required comfort, and usually sought it out from those who hadn’t been involved.

But right now, they were alone, and Legend was getting anxious the longer they continued to isolate.

“Chief?”

“Yeah? What’s wrong?”

“C’mere?”

The medic was there in an instant, reaching for Legend’s arm. “Tell me what’s wrong, Lege, where-”

“No, just-” Legend grabbed Chief’s hand and tried to pull him closer, but the other refused to move.

Chief tilted his head, confused. “What, do- do you want to cuddle?”

“Mhm, please?” Legend whined, tugging on Chief’s hand again. He knew that Chief needed to melt, so why was he being stubborn?

“Lege, no. You’re not in the right state of mind, you- you’re going to hate me when the morphine wears off, you said so yourself. Trust me, you’re not going to want me anywhere near you.”

“Nnnnoooooo-” Legend didn’t care about whatever he had said earlier. If he didn’t have anyone to hug, he was going to be upset, and if Chief was alone, he was going to be upset, which made Legend even more upset. He hiccupped, feeling tears begin to form.

Chief cursed under his breath. “Fine. Fine.” He let Legend pull him closer, giving him a hug before he curled up on his lap. The medic was tense, one hand resting beside his wrench, but he was there, and that gave Legend an instant sense of relief. “If you gouge my eyes out when you come to your senses, I’m blaming you,” Chief grumbled.

Legend ignored him, opting instead to run clumsy, half-numb fingers through Chief’s hair.

“I mean it, Lege, you’re not going to be happy later-”

“But I feel better now…” He did, really. He still felt hazy and confused, and focusing on Chief helped distract him.

“We’re both going to regret this…” the medic groaned, but he slowly began to relax as Legend continued to play with his hair.

Legend hummed, staring into the distance. After a while, he felt Chief try to suppress a shiver. Chief’s face was hidden in his hands, but Legend could tell that his breathing was interspersed with small gasps.

“Shh. It’s okay,” Legend murmured, but that made Chief jolt and try to sit upright.

Chief cursed again and pointed at Legend. “You don’t get to be the judge of what’s okay. You’re drugged, injured, and you don’t even remember that you’re supposed to hate me.” His words were harsh, but his tone was soft. “When we’re back with the others, that’s when it’ll be okay.”

“We’ll be okay?” Legend repeated, quiet and hopeful.

Chief’s voice was as strained as his smile. “Yeah, Lege. We will.”

[oddmawd]

THE GRASP OF GILDED STRINGS - Chapter 14: "The Curfew Bells are Ringing"

SUMMARY: Through violence and bloodshed, Donquixote Doflamingo carved out a world of his own making. Now someone is mending the broken toys of Dressrosa with gold — and they did not ask the king of the island for permission. In a land he rules with an iron fist, this small act of rebellion cannot go unchallenged...but for all his schemes and plans, Doflamingo was unprepared to meet the woman behind the gold. Through dogged determination, Saffron engineered a quiet place for herself in the kingdom of Dressrosa. She is content in her self-imposed isolation, because solitude means safety when you have an ability like hers. Too bad she’s been noticed by the one man who could destroy her hard-won way of life. Mending broken toys seemed an act of mercy. Now Saffron can only hope the king of Dressrosa will show her the same. (Doflamingo/OC. Explicit content. Unhealthy relationship. Doffy corrupts. This is not a redemption story.)

TAGS & CONTENT WARNINGS for Chapter 14

MAIN LINK: Read the full story on AO3

PAIRINGS: Doflamingo/Original Character

RATING:  E(xplicit) (MDNI, 18+)

WORD COUNT: 16k for chapter 14

GENRE: Dark Romance

FANDOM: One Piece

TAGS: Power Imbalance, Power Dynamics, Original Character(s), Character Driven Plot, Romance, Doflamingo is a horrible person and he will not be redeemed, Corruption, falling in love with a villain, Emotional Manipulation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Sex, Kintsugi Devil Fruit, Harems, Murder, Stalking, Spying

WARNINGS: Rated E for adult content & canon-typical violence

EXCERPT from CHAPTER 14:

After his return to the shores of Dressrosa, Doflamingo watched Saffron approach the palace gates every morning from the lofty height of the throne room. Every day he sent Baby 5 to ensure Saffron made it safely up Pica’s stone elevator...not that he had left the goldsmith much choice in the matter. Doflamingo had already sent workers to her horrible barn to collect Saffron’s spinning wheel and other materials the day after he declared she would be permanently moving her work to the palace. She had protested, of course, but those protests had died after he reminded her of the truth they established the day prior when they reunited in her horrible barn.

“My world,” he’d told her.

“Your world,” she’d conceded with eyes averted.

And that was the end of that discussion, despite the adorable pout Saffron sported as she surveyed the workers collecting her spinning wheel. Her expression did little to sway him. He’d just laughed at her, patting her head when they carted the items away, delighted when she swatted at his hand like a kitten pawing a wolf.

Her mood improved when she saw her new workspace, of course. The pill became a little easier to swallow, he imagined, when you chased it with a spoonful of luxury. Spacious and bright, the converted suite with its high windows overlooking Dressrosa was fit for any visiting monarch, and it had housed more than one such figure over the years of Doflamingo’s reign. Now, though, it housed everything a workman like Saffron could ask for, and then some. A private courtyard, multiple chambers for storage or workshops, even a private bath…and the neighboring rooms were rarely occupied, bordering a shared courtyard with a trickling fountain very few ever bothered to approach. A quiet and serene place. It was rather removed from the rest of the palace, naturally, kept in an outer wing, isolated and quiet. Doflamingo had chosen it for Saffron personally. 

The distance from the main corridors of the palace was intention. He didn’t want to be bothered by her noisy work when he wasn’t in the mood for it, you see. Here, she was just distant enough for his comfort, yet still close enough for his convenience. 

But to Saffron, to whom he explained none of this, it was simply more of the luxury she’d likely come to expect from the palace. Her eyes widened at the lovely windows and the ornate marble floor, tracing her gloved fingertips across the large drafting tables arranged for her to work upon, mouth dropping open when she spotted the best tools money could buy sitting in the corner. She couldn’t hide her reaction, her delight, the gasp of pleasure that dropped from her lush lips.

But then, in spite of the lavish accommodations Doflamingo had so generously granted Saffron, her face fell. She looked at him askance, eyes flickering first at him, then at the door.

“The pool.” She swallowed. “It’s nearby, isn’t it.”

“Of course,” said Doflamingo.

Saffron nodded, teeth scraping her lower lip. She did not appear quite as happy as before, even when she looked at the rack of tools that had brought her so much joy only moments prior. But what could the problem possibly be? She needed pool access to complete her job. This was a logical place for her new workshop. Yes, it didn’t have direct access to the pool — this remote wing of the palace bordered the harem wing, and she was at the far end of it — but even so…

Ah. Was that it?

“Oh?” He leaned down toward her with a taunting grin, back hunching to put them at eye level. “Is this not to your liking? Do you want something fancier, perhaps?”

“It’s not that,” Saffron said at once. “It’s…”

But she stopped short. Her eyes darted toward the door — and then to the massive, Doflamingo-sized armchair by the fireplace, which he’d placed there himself. And there it was, the truth of the matter writ plain as day across her lovely face. She was still wary of the harem girls and their assumptions, as predicted. Even though she was not directly underfoot of those primped and polished women, she still worried they’d come wandering and find her, did she? The chances of that were slim, as those women had the collective curiosity of a bread basket, but…

Doflamingo rather hoped they might come knocking. Saving Saffron from their perfumed wrath would go a long way toward earning her favor, and if she wouldn’t admit that they had been bothering her, he’d happily tempt fate a little. And if those girls were somehow encouraged to come find Saffron…well, such a thing would certainly force her hand, so to speak, and push her into coming to him for aid. Truth be told, he’d already thought of all of that when choosing her new accommodations. This new workspace was as much a gift as it was a pretty trap inlaid with marble tile.

But his dear Saffron didn’t know it. She looked around and forced a smile, unaware that she stood upon the threshold of carefully choreographed disaster.

“It’s…bigger than I’m used to,” was all she said, meeting his expectant stare with a polite smile. “And the light is good. It’s perfect, your majesty.”

Truths to shroud a lie unspoken. Silly thing, still avoiding his helping hand. Doflamingo left her to her work, laughing to himself as he stalked away.

Doflamingo continued to keep an eye on her after she took up residence in her new quarters. He watched her every morning from the throne room as she and Baby 5 walked together to the King’s Plateau, his keen eyes missing nothing even from such a high vantage point. Likewise he kept tabs on her work on the pool. Easy enough to do without attracting notice. His personal chambers overlooked the pretty courtyard and its heaven-on-earth array of delights. When she was there, he took meetings from his bedchamber, talking via Den Den Mushi from the shadows as his obscured gaze traced her every move. He wondered if Saffron could feel his eyes on her. 

He half suspected she might. Once, midway through a conversation with Pica, she stopped her work and stood. Slowly she pivoted in place, sunlight catching on her hair — and, for the briefest of flashing moments, a spark of gold at her throat. Her metallic eyes tipped upward and traced the windows overlooking the courtyard. Searching. A frown pulled at her mouth as those arresting eyes alit upon his bedroom window…

He held as still as the shadows wreathing him.

Saffron shook her head and looked away, seemingly convinced the unnerving feeling in her gut was little more than imagination. Pica bent his massive body low to say something in her ear, but she just shook her head once more and pointed at their unfinished project.

Speaking of Pica: Doflamingo had been told Saffron and Pica made a good team, but to see her in action with the high-ranking officer was another thing entirely. The pair appeared to work in harmony indeed. He witnessed them together over the course of many days, watching from afar as Saffron directed the enormous man about his tasks before going indoors to examine plans and place orders. To Doflamingo’s immense satisfaction, she spoke to Pica with confidence, asking him to move stone aside so she could see what lay beneath, or divert waterways running underground to better fit her plans. Confidence — he wasn’t used to seeing that on his timid little doll, but he had to admit the look suited her.

The curve of her smile when she laughed suited her, too. He saw her laugh from his lofty perch when Pica said something that made her throw back her head, grinning and giggling in the sunshine. Gold winked at her throat, copper in her hair, silver in her eyes — and for a moment Doffy bristled, thinking she might be laughing at Pica. But the giant man joined her laughter with a shrill shriek of his own, audible even from afar, and Doflamingo relaxed. 

Tension returned to him quickly, though he hid it when he summoned Pica to the throne room, adopting an easy affectation as he lounged with a leg hooked over the arm of his throne. Pica drop to one knee and bowed his head while Doflamingo looked him over with a nonchalant chuckle.

He was anything but nonchalant behind his massive, leering smile though. He watched Pica’s every move through unblinking eyes when he asked, “Miss Isabella — what do you talk about with her?”

Pica lifted his head, golden helmet with its many spikes winking in the sunlight streaming through the room’s tall windows. “The project, your highness.”

“And?”

“And stone. And Dressrosa.” Each syllable squeaked from his lips like air leaving a thin-necked balloon. “And the weather, I guess.”

“Nothing else?”

“Ah — and you, a few times.” Pica admitted this as an afterthought. “She’s asked about you once or twice.”

“I see.” Doflamingo’s smile wasn’t entirely performative anymore. “And what did she want to know?”

“If you treated your family well.”

“And what did you say?”

“That your family would die for you, of course, and that you protect us in kind,” said Pica. “And she seemed satisfied with that.”

“Good.” Doflamingo’s shoulders drained of tension, and he settled back against his throne. “What do you make of her?”

“Skilled,” Pica said at once. Then, more slowly: “And kind. Won’t last a week in this court without protection. I can see why Monet wants her escorted everywhere.”

The king chuckled. “Don’t think she can handle herself, huh?”

“Hard to say.” Pica shrugged. “Sometimes it’s the quiet ones who snap the loudest.”

This was true. Doflamingo though about that for quite some time, watching Saffron from his high perch. He still wasn’t sure what, precisely, had made Saffron laugh, but in the end he supposed he approved of her relationship with Pica. It seemed innocent enough. A bond between people who appreciated stone, and nothing more.

…he hated to admit that it nagged at him, though — that she’d laughed so easily for Pica, but not for him.

He hated to admit that he thought about it for days.

[Continued on AO3]

CLICK HERE TO READ THE REST OF CHAPTER 14 on AO3!

[sweetspiderlily]

☾‧˚༺ —𝑫𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒓𝒔; 𝑲𝒐𝒌𝒖𝒅𝒐𝒖

[FULL CREDITS TO THE ARTIST. THIS IS NOT MY ART!]

𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐛𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐦𝐚'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭.

Content. .┊slow burn, kokushibo and douma hug like in the fanart above lol, Mention of Demons eating/killing humans, humor, fluff, kokushibo and Douma baking human food [cinnamon rolle]

Pairing. .┊Kokushibo x Douma

Word count. .┊2.0k

Note. .┊idc how small the fandom is. Where are the kokudou shippers? 👀 also, not 100% proofread.

M.list

"It's.. colder these days." Kokushibo said to himself after his usual trianing session. The physical heat of his body subsided after doing a breath form and having him feel the cold air around him. Kokushibo then looked up at the sky, seeing how cloudy the night sky looked and only having the full moons light shining in the sky. Kokushibo put his sword in the Scabbard around his hips and fixed his kimono, covering his bare upper body again.

Kokushibo went over to his porch and sat down. During this time, he'd meditate after trianing, something he's done without fail. However lately Meditation has been hard for him, especially when his mind isn't focused and has recently been having his lover on his mind for longer than kokushibo would like. Douma wasn't exactly kokushibo's plan to start having a more intimate relationship outside of being upper ranks and having a few tasks by Muzan.

Find the blue spider lily, killing as many demon slayers as possible, and find and kill Tanjiro and Nezuko kamado. Kokushibo always had a focused attitude and took his word seriously, but when he would be done, he'd find himself dragged back to Douma's temple and engaging in Douma's hobbies. Dancing was first, which made them physically closer, kokushibo wasn't a touchy person until Douma would always want to dance with him.

The water pipe was a striaght up no, but kokushibo didn't mind being around Douma when he smoked, though he caught himself like the second hands effects of it. Then, instead of sake, since demons can't consume foods and drinks, humans can, Douma always manged to get his hands on some Marechi, which is a rare blood type in humans that makes demons intoxicated and Douma would always invite kokushibo to have some, even if kokushibo couldn't come most nights.

Recently, kokushibo has not seen Douma in two months due to his strict role as upper one and someone closely working with muzan. Kokushibo tried to meditate, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths to clear his mind, but he had been neglecting his own desires too much that the images of Douma's face, the smile he'd give kokushibo would vividly appear. Kokushibo kept trying but eventually gave up, letting out a heavy sigh.

Kokushibo made his way the Nakime. Transporting himself would be faster, even if Muzan would find out, and Nakime made that very clear, but kokushibo would have to explain himself to Muzan the next time they meet. "Very well. By the way, tell Douma to stop sending me invites for some Marechi. I'd like to hold my food down when I'm not around him." She said before playing a cord on her her biwa and transported Kokushibo to Douma's temple.

Kokushibo looked up at the stairs, seeing the pathway candle lights around the temple. Around this time at night, Douma's religious followers would be in their beds, and anyone can walk in the temple. Once kokushibo made it up the steps, he heard that familiar voice in the distance. "You haven't visited me in 2 months." Douma's voice was in the distance inside the slightly darkened temple.

Kokushibo then felt a large hand on his shoulder and feeling the slight dig of his long, sharp purple nails, Unfazed from Douma approaching kokushibo from behind. "I was starting to think you must've grown bored of me." Douma teased, walking around kokushibo to facing him and cup his cheek to make kokushibo look at him. Kokushibo looked down slightly, noticing Douma's long, silver hair is all braided in one.

"If I was displeased with you, I would have not shown up here," Kokushibo said, closing one of his eyes as Douma's thumb rubbed over it. "Fair enough, so you finally had the time to come see me without master Muzan needing your attendance, correct?" Douma grinned, knowing the answer even if kokushibo didn't say anything. Douma moved his hand from kokushibo's face and wrapped his arms around kokushibo's neck.

"Whatever it is, it's good to know you haven't grown bored of me." Douma said, closing his eyes as he embraced kokushibo. After a minute, kokushibo looked at Douma, or rather, his long, sliver hair, and then wrapped his arm around Douma's waist, pulling him closer. They stood outside the temple like that for a few seconds before kokushibo broke the silence. "...You're overheating." He said.

"Am I? I suppose it's because I've had the oven on for an hour now." Douma said, pulling away. "Why?" Kokushibo asked, placing his hand on Douma's cheek, then his neck to feel how much warmer he is. "I've been inspired to bake something." Douma said, taking kokushibo's hand and leading him inside the temple.

"I was hungry and visited a small village before coming back to the temple. Before I slaughtered and ate the humans there, I saw a lot of them heading to a spastic home." He explained, guiding kokushibo through the temple halls and to the kitchen. "It was a home bakery. I went inside and was amazed at how the desserts looked, and I felt like trying to make it myself." He said, arriving back into his kitchen with kokushibo.

"However, the humans noticed I wasn't human and began to panic, but the baker man said I could have one or even all his cookbooks if I didn't hurt him and his family. I just needed one since it said cinnamon rolls. So I let the baker man and his family escape but had a big meal afterward from the humans that tried to get away. Wasn't it nice of him to offer one of his cookbooks to me? I know these cinnamon rolls will turn out great." Douma smiled and went to take the covered bowl off the stove. Douma has the oven on to keep the cinnamon roll dough in a warm place.

Once Douma was done explaining his reasoning for having the interest in baking something tonight, kokushibo nodded. "Sometimes... when you speak, I'm unprepared if it's something bright, idiotic, or demented." Kokushibo said, coming in the warm kitchen and standing next to douma as he put the bowl down on the table. Douma chuckled. "Likewise, but it's either you're very serious or you look like a shocked cat when you're told you're wrong at something." Douma said, getting an extra apron and coming towards kokushibo.

"Why.." kokushibo said as douma tucked his hands underneath kokushibo's long black hair to tie the top part of the apron around the back of his neck. "To make sure your kimono doesn't get dirty." Douma said, now going behind kokushibo and tying at the back around his waist. "I didn't say I'd participate. Besides, we can't eat cinnamon rolls. We'll know it up." Kokushibo said, a logical fact about demons since they can't consume human goods.

"Yeah, but I'd be fun to just make it. Besides, you came to see me, so now you're going to participate." Douma said as he began to braid kokushibo's hair back into one and use a hair tie to tie it at the bottom so it didn't come out. Didn't fight it. He sighed and looked at the covered bowl. "Okay, what are you doing now?" Kokushibo asked and watched douma take off the kitchen towel off the bowl, uncovering the smooth, rounded raised dough in the bowl.

Kokushibo's eyes narrowed, curious at how big the dough it and decided to poke it. When he did, his eyes widened as he watched the air deflate from the dough like a balloon. "Good job, you broke it." Douma sarcastically said, but kokushibo turned to Douma, a surprised look in his widen eyes that made douma chuckled. "I'm kidding. Look here." Douma said and turning to get the cook book where he left it last.

Douma set it up in front of them with the correct page open. "It says once the dough is done rising, we had to release the air from the dough." Douma said and chuckled, finding kokushibo's reaction funny. "... just read what needs to be done next." He shook his head, putting his habd over Douma's face and pushing him away, clearly a bit embarrassed he fell for another one of Douma's antics. "Here, you roll the dough." Douma said, giving kokushibo the rolling pin while dough got flour and sprinkled some on the table.

Kokushibo leaned down at the book and read how you need some flour on the table to roll out the dough since the dough can be sticky. "Disgusting." kokushibo said after reading the dough might be sticky and watching how douma turned over the bowl, making the dough fall on the flour coated table. "The sensation of it possibly being sticky does not aound fun at all." He said.

Douma raised brow at kokushibo's discomfort and turned to him with a grin. "You've killed many humans, eaten them, and have even punched right through a human, and you're worried about sticky dough? I never knew what a big baby you could be." Douma laughed at kokushibo, and in return, kokushibo flicked some flour Douma's face, getting some on his face.

The baking process felt long, especially following every step, but kokushibo and Douma found it enjoyable with each other's company. "Whenever you have an interest and involve me... it's nice." Kokushibo simply said, not looking at Douma's eyes or eles he knew he'd start to blush, and he'd never hear the end of it. Douma smiled and rested his head on kokushibo's shoulder. "Me too, i really like when you're here with me." Douma said.

After another hour of rolling out the dough, spreading the filling on the dough and rolling it into a spiral, and baking it, the cinnamon rolls were finally done. Kokushibo and douma hovered over the baking tray and smelled the cinnamon rolls. "These smell so good, don't they?" Douma said. "To not make it go to waste, I'll give them to my followers." He chuckled.

Kokushibo nodded as he stared at the cinnamon rolls for a moment. "What's wrong?" Douma asked, and kokushibo pointed at the rolls. "These cinnamon rolls... they remind me of upper 5." Kokushibo said. "What? Gyokko? Why?." Douma asked, slight laughter as he spoke and a bit baffled at kokushibo's comparison.

Kokushibo sharpened his nails to cut into the batch of cinnamon rolls and took one out. He began to unravel it and showed Douma how the unraveled cinnamon roll looked. "I had a feeling if you unravel it, it looks like gyokkos tail when he comes out of his pot." He said, and Douma immediately burst out laughing. Douma laughed so hard he had to hold his stomach with one hand and even had tears in his eyes.

"Why are you laughing? I'm serious, gyokkos lower half looks like an unraveled cinnamon roll. Kokushibo said, and Douma laughed harder, waving his hand to beg Kokushibo to stop explaining any further before he stopped breathing. "You're funny without even realizing it." Douma calmed himself down and whiped a tear away. "I can see it now that you explained, but it was so odd that I couldn't help but laugh." He said.

"Well, I'm satisfied you understand my joke." Kokushibo said and looked away. He actually didn't mean to joke but share his honest opinion on how the cinnamon rolls looked, but he felt good he got to make Douma have a good laugh. "Thanks for doing this with me." Douma said and covered the cinnamon rolls and placed them to the side for his followers to eat tomorrow. "I should get going. The sun will rise in an hour." Kokushibo said, looking outside.

Before Kokushibo could turn around and walk out, Douma sped towards him and gave Kokushibo a tight hug. Kokushibo hugged Douma back, and they held each other tightly. Although Kokushibo hasn't admitted it, he did have fun and satisfied he got to see douma again. When they let go, Douma placed his forhead on kokushibo's, looking into 2 pairs of his eyes.

"You should come over tomorrow night, and We could make this again, but using human intestines, roll it up like we did the cinnamon rolls. It takes less time since we don't cook human flesh." Douma chuckled and gave Kokushibo a soft kiss before he had to go. Kokushibo thought for a moment and kissed Douma back.

"Very well... I'll return tomorrow."

[mister-tom-a-dildo-lover]

What constitutes as a rarepair anyway having a couple fics and that's it?

Depends.

If your rare pair has 50 fics on AO3/FFN, it's rare. UNLESS, there are only 100 fics in total. That would mean your rare pair is actually common as it makes up 50% of the current fan content for that fandom that is available on AO3/FFN. It's probably the fan fav to be specific.

There are 847,000 HP fanfics on FFN alone. Tomarry/Harrymort fics technically make up about 1.5%, but that is when you search Harry/Voldemort and Harry/Tom specifically. If you search fics where all three are tagged, it's under 1%. This is because many Tomarrymort writers will use Tom and Voldemort interchangeably and at the same time even if they only present the Dark Lord or Dark Lord Wannabe the whole fic.

If you search each specifically with Romance, and add them together, they make up 0.6% of the HP fics on FFN.

Hell, Cedric/Harry has almost the same amount of fics on AO3, as pure Harry/Voldemort does. This means just Harrymort. No Tom Riddle/Harry Potter being tagged in it as well cuz writers can't choose which ship their fic falls under. This also means filtering out any fics where Harry gets with others as well, or oneshot/drabble compilations that have crossovers or other ships.

Cedric/Harry can be considered niche and rare, but a ship with only a couple hundred more fics on AO3, isn't? Ron/Harry and Theodore/Harry have more fics that Cedric/Harry but a little less than Voldemort/Harry. Sirius/Harry is almost on par with Cedric/Harry. Out of 484,000 HP fics on AO3, all of these ships have over 1K fics but less than 2K.

Saying 1,700 is a big number, isn't wrong. But if you're comparing it to 400,000, things change a bit. 1,700 of 400,000 is a vastly different ball game here. Likewise, 2,200 of 847,000 is very small. To make things clear, more than 50% of these fics are cross-posted on both AO3 & FFN, so you could cut that number directly in half for a more realistic amount.

If your ship makes up 1% or below of the total fan content in such a massive fandom and is even considered to be crack by not only people who ship it with you, but everyone who doesn't ship it, it's likely considered rare.

(I used Harrymort as an example cuz ant!s are a little more accepting of Tomarry since they're of the similar ages. That is why there are so many obviously Harrymort fics tagged as Tomarry and why many of us have to clarify we're talking about the evil, 70 y/o snake face when thinking of fics ideas.)

[fast-burn]

ooo genuinely asking out of curiosity— what made you think there was a line for f1 rpf? In what way? I can kinda see it, I feel like there’s some very very popular kinks/tropes and then others you don’t see.

Also I’m not really into hockey rpf but I’ve kinda perused and know you guys have the most incredible fic!! I’m curious what are common tropes used in hockey rpf that you don’t see in f1? For example, I guess bc I’ve been in the f1 circle for so long I almost forget how it’s not “normal” to have sooo much omegaverse hahah

oh anon, i have many thoughts. can i interest you in a readmore?

okay so full disclosure is that hockey rpf has had people trying to doxx authors who post kinks they don't like, so it's not like it's free of problematic readers. personally i've had people write posts about how i'm a disgusting freak for some of the tropes/kinks i've written--mostly xeno/weird biology stuff. i've written some satirical stuff about it rather than let it get me down because tbh there are prudes in any audience. at this point i just don't go seeking people who write hand-wringing think-pieces about how my friends and i are the scum of the earth because really it's rooted in internalized misogyny, kinkshaming, and inferiority complexes; i simply don't have the bandwidth. but discourse like this has chased many people out of the fandom or caused them to unceremoniously delete their work. frankly, i've gotten off relatively easily.

but on the flipside--and maybe this is just time spent in the fandom?? god i've been writing hrpf since 2017--i've got a fairly loyal following who will read pretty much anything i've written. like if i wrote something completely balls-to-the-wall unexpected, it'd probably still get at least 50-150 kudos just on spec. i have a fic where the pairing is so rare that it's the ONLY one in the tag, and it still has 59 kudos.

the thing is that there's sort of a distressing trend of young people becoming more and more puritanical because of the diminishing youth space on the internet. i'm not the first to notice this or talk about it, so i won't bother with going into detail. but connected to this is the idea that fandom is rather cyclical as older fans move on (not all, but some) and new, younger fans come in. therefore, with a new cycle of fans nowadays comes a new cycle of...that. so it's pretty much all fandoms experiencing this. we've all seen the ridiculous outrage at ao3's hosting of """problematic""" content. i think this internal policing is why there's a lot more out-there kink content in original fiction on ao3 compared to fanfiction.

um okay onto hockey vs. formula 1! i need you to take this with an ENORMOUS grain of salt but based on a very very very small sample size, the more kinky the fic, the less engagement it gets. on one hand, this is sort of to be expected, since kink by its nature lies outside what is normative or standard, ergo hopefully people only read it if it's something they want to, or at least are curious about.

from what i've seen so far, i don't think f1rpf is that kinky?? to me, omegaverse is...okay, well it's kinky, but i also think it's become a kind of standard. i remember when omegaverse was new, but now i feel like it's a sort of fandom standard, at least for explicit fics. (are there g-rated omegaverse fics??? i simply filter out any search results for non-explicit fics.) my most-kudosed fic on ao3 is omegaverse, and to me that implies an acceptance of the trope to the point where it's become normalized. but i think there's a reason for that.

generally i think kink in fic is a way to explore and critique the source material in a sexy way. like for example, sports rpf in general has a lot of genderplay, either through omegaverse, or rule 63, genderswap, gendercurse, mpreg, male lactation, etc. which makes sense because generally Big Sports tend to be male-oriented, misogynistic, transphobic, and extremely segregated. and conversely, fanfiction and slash-fiction spaces, in their contemporary iteration, are largely the opposite. so hockey rpf, formula 1 rpf, football rpf, etc. will likely have a large amount of kink that engages with that concept.

but i think there's a lot more stuff to critique in formula 1 that, at least from my brief experience, has gone untouched. and maybe i'm just missing it because it was in the early 2000s or the 1990s? bear with me...

car-fucking/car sex: this is maybe my number one concern. why aren't they having sex in/on/around the cars? or WITH the cars? during a race? post-race? as a warm-up/cool-down? as a way to connect to the car/build the car? (see: carva universe) not just their race cars but also their stables of road cars. hello?? and nobody reacted to my suggestion that there should be a cronenberg-crash au. why not.

adrenaline junkie bullshit: like full jackass stunt nonsense. escalation to completely dangerous levels. deep sea diving, mountain climbing, parachuting, throwing a bowling ball at someone's nuts, etc.

bdsm: there is SOME--really really good stuff--but i want MORE. the way half of them like getting strapped into the seat but the other half hate it? but also the way that the adrenaline junkie bullshit feeds into painplay. and like the Whole Entire Concept of Discipline is just sports sports sports all over.

power dynamics and sexual ownership: while most sport rpf deals with teams, f1/motor is more individual-based. a driver is virtually owned by their team and it's extremely hierarchical. it's what creates these intense rivalries and shifting loyalties. also the cost vs. income difference for the lower formulas vs. f1. idk i just think there should be fics where teams bring that into play for sex reasons.

age difference: some ships come with it built-in, of course. there's this legacy of mentorship that i've noticed which is sort of a combination of coach/player and agent/player. then there's engineers and team principals who also have rich opportunities. mechanics are also often older than the drivers. and owners, sponsors, ancient pundits? so like...fuck that old man??

idk there's just a lot of dark, gross stuff happening in formula 1 and i think it needs to be turned into disgusting (affectionate) sex.

i am accepting recs, and i don't care what pairing it is.

that all being said, and at this point i'm second-guessing every single sentence i've written here, there's still a ton of new younger fans coming in. you can look at the charting of most popular pairings across the past 10 years or so and see it happening. and please don't get me wrong: the cycle of fandom is actually necessary and i love to have fresh writers and readers involved! just that, well.

if i've been in a fandom for x-number of years, i'm going to have to theoretically get more and more creative in order to produce something fresh and different. so unless i want to write some long, well-researched, plot-heavy character exploration through the romance genre, i'm here suggesting that we put a gearshift up someone's ass. okay? okay. but new writers don't need to necessarily go that far. so it's gonna be more tame, more vanilla. less kinky. and likewise, less willing to take a chance on a bit of strange.

[quinnyundertow]

When I Catch You Gege

Summary Reader is Isekai'd into JJK with the determination to change canon and make sure she rights the wrongs of Gege. Oh and enjoy her time there...yeah that too. No manga plot spoilers. Reader x everyone. All characters 18+ unless otherwise stated.

Content Warning: Canon typical violence, torture, suicide, Non-con, extreme bullying, angst with a happy ending.

Pairings: Reader x Nanami Kento, Haibara Yu, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Junpei Yoshino, Okkotsu Yuta, Toji Fushiguro

Chapter 1

Comments & Candies

It all started with a comment on the internet. Which to be honest was pretty rare for you to indulge in in the first place. Don’t misunderstand, you had strong opinions about things -especially when some of your favorite characters or shows were involved- but between the trolls online and the way things generally devolved in comment sections it just wasn’t worth raising your blood pressure over anymore. 

It started innocuously enough in some TikTok comments of a Jujutsu Kaisen fight mash up from the current Shibuya Arc. It was one of those videos where the quality is so high you don’t even understand how the user posting found it.

75 Comments

“Dude I fkn hate Mahito he better get left right goodnight next ep”

“lol get ready to be disappointed”

“I mean why mahito kinda…👀”

“get help….” “girlie I’m all for ignoring red flags but that’s a whole red flag factory” "okay but transforming body parts 😩"

You laughed at the comments per usual thumbing up your favorites before going to type your own. This fandom was so unhinged but you loved it. These comments were tame compared to what you would see on the average JJK thirst trap video.

“Gege is the worst curse 😭” 

You hit enter with a small smile before immediately scrolling through a few more TikToks. Your timeline was currently Jujutsu Hell. Just about every TikTok was JJK related and while you adored the show (maybe a little too much) you were feeling a little bummed out by it lately. 

Season one had become your ultimate comfort anime. It was endearing, funny, heartwarming and all the characters meshed so well. It made you feel like a part of their family -albeit a very hot family where you thirsted over about 90% of the cast-. 

Sure the Junpei arc in season 1 broke your heart but it was a manageable amount of sadness. The movie was much the same; a little sad but overwhelming the good guys win and the family is together at the end. Then came Shibuya and all hell broke loose. Gege made you fall in love with Suguru Geto despite knowing that wasn’t going to end well. Your sweet baby Yuji was tortured relentlessly physically and mentally. Then he put your man Gojo in an eyeball box before he killed off a bunch of beloved characters. You were honestly starting to feel depressed. It sounds dramatic but you really loved these characters and it felt like Gege was torturing them for the hell of it. Character deaths were fine with a literary purpose but it was beginning to feel cruel.

Your mood dipped with your thoughts as you decided to close the app down. Before you could flick it shut a notification popped up at the top of your screen showing someone had responded to your comment. You clicked it to see the bigger thread.

“Yuji had to watch these ppl die to grow as a character”

You screwed up your face into an affronted expression. You had a tendency of wearing your thoughts on your face before managing to school them. Something that had gotten you in trouble more than once. Thankfully, in your own home that wasn’t an issue. 

“Not really relevant to my comment..” you mumbled while typing a response. “But I’ll bite”

“Killing off characters just to make another one grow is the easy way out. Yuji is a kid. Torturing him senselessly isn’t making him grow, it's making him traumatized.”

Before you could even click away another comment popped up below yours 

“U think u could do any better?”

You rolled your eyes at the comment. You loved Gege’s work, the universe and characters he created were amazing; but that didn’t mean you had to agree with every decision he made as an author. This is why you didn’t bother to leave comments. You hated having to justify yourself to random people on the internet. You contemplated deleting your original comment before you typed 

“I mean I could get to the same places plot wise and emotionally without murdering everyone the audience cares about..” Before the guy could respond again you hit the phones off button to put it to sleep and threw it across your bed. You hated that your emotions tended to get involved in things as tiny as internet comments or tv shows.

You huffed into your sheets before mumbling, “If I was there I’d end up being an annoying Shonen protagonist…”  you smiled thinking of the way Naruto relentlessly chased down Sasuke or Luffy refused to leave his Nakama behind. Rolling over you lay on your back staring at the ceiling grinning, “Suguru Geto you aren’t escaping the power of friendship buddy! I would drag your monkey hating ass back kicking and screaming. Hell, I’m saving Yu Haibara first, sending Geto to therapy, and taking Nanami to a freaking hair salon. Emo looking…” you laugh out loud before your reverie is interrupted by the screeching of your phone's alarm. 

Your mood is forced to instantly sober, “I’m pathetic..” you muttered. Knowing in the back of your head you had to get ready for another day at your mediocre job with your shitty coworkers. And for what? To come home and be sad that the gorgeous pixelated men on the other side of the screen were getting knocked off by their God Gege (who you just decided to dub God-Ge).

After rubbing a hand over the bridge of your nose you tried to muster the energy to get up and get shit done. Raising up one hand towards the ceiling and making a fist you yelled, “Alright God-Ge you dick just you wait till I get Isekaied! Not one of my boys is dying and I all my babies are gonna grow up loved as fuck!!”

~~

That was the last thing you remembered and what brought you to the here and now. Where ever here and now was… you were disoriented to say the least. You went from laying in bed to your body standing. White and red lights were flashing by with a blustery wind shaking you and rattling your clothes. Despite the confusion you registered that you were moving but not with any sense of purpose or even of your own volition. You were submerged in a crowd; bodies flowing around you pushing your stumbling form along.  You were in sensory overload; the sound of racing vehicles, people talking, advertisements ringing. The lights flickering around you were blurred and the voices surrounding you were unintelligible. 

You felt as if you broke through to the air from a lake in the middle of winter. Your mind was having trouble forming full thoughts. The information it was receiving was partial and you felt goosebumps break out down your arms as you felt a shiver go down your body. You noticed a ringing in your head as it gradually grew louder in volume. The tinnitus like sound became unbearable as you hunched over putting your hands over your ears. Your posture was protective as you just hoped the overwhelming feelings would-

The ringing stopped. The sounds around you clarified and your vision seemed to return to normal. It felt as if someone had thrown you a life preserver in frigid waters and you gasped at the sudden shift in physical sensations.

Something was grounding you. This warmth spread throughout your body and a wave of reassurance engulfed you. Still bent over with your hands on your knees you registered a hand on your upper back near your shoulder. The touch, warm and light, rubs a gentle circle only partially putting its weight on you. You aren’t the type of person to want to be touched by strangers but the person barely holding you relays comfort and reassurance. Their form was removed enough to show concern while not intruding on your space or coming off as disrespectful. 

“Hey are you okay? You don’t look so good..” the voice was masculine but had this buoyancy and brightness to it. The energy behind it non-threatening and almost inviting. You squeezed your eyes shut trying to regain some baseline of where you are. You registered the sidewalk under your feet and your familiar pair of shoes. It had to be nighttime based on the level of light surrounding you. It wasn’t dark but the only thing illuminating your feet was colorful artificial rays. 

The hand on your back left taking its warmth with it. Your eyes flicked up to meet a pair of brown orbs with flecks of gold. The person's face peering down at you was so close to your own your noses almost brushed when you looked up. Your voice caught in your throat as you choked in surprise at the handsome features directly in front of you. His brown eyes were framed with long dark lashes. The first thought that left your mind was he’s beautiful before a heat raced down your stomach. 

At your noses almost touching, he stood up quickly from stooping to get a better look at you. He must have seen something in your eyes that clearly concerned him as both of his arms reached out to steady you on either side of your shoulders. His fingers flexed lightly on your upper arms as he maintained a firm but gentle hold, “Hey I’ve got ya, let’s move over out of the walkway.” The voice sounded like how someone would coax an animal out of a hiding place. It generated a sense of security despite the confusion all around you. 

You leaned up to your full height, the hands on your arms providing support in the event you needed it. You fought past a wave of dizziness as your gaze followed his legs on their way to meet his eyes. He was tall, almost two heads taller than you. His face now turned away from yours as it scanned above the crowd for a destination. His hair was the same honey brown color as his eyes. The style boyish, straight and short; stopping above the ears before ending in an undercut. The bangs were untamed like he had run his hands through them one time too many.  

“Hmmmm, umm…there’s gotta be a seat somewhere..” he mumbled to himself aloud. You tried to focus on his words but felt your form stiffen as you were bumped by the throng brushing by you, intent on where they were heading. When he spoke his voice tickled the back of your brain, a sense of familiarity rolling over you. You couldn’t help but focus on the sensation of his hands on your shoulders. 

He visibly perked up as he seemed to have found what he was looking for before he glanced back over to you. He smiled brightly, making eye contact that made you feel a blush on your face in response. He released your arms briefly before a large warm hand reached out and clasped your smaller one before navigating you towards a less dense part of the horde. “So I don’t lose you.” he explained lightheartedly over his shoulder. His grip was soft despite the roughness of his own hands. You felt yourself rub against him reflexively tracing one of his calloused fingers with your own. 

Your own emotions and feelings in your present situation baffled you. You were not some maiden needing saving nor some naive girl who would tag up with a random man. You watched way too much true crime to ever take a strange man’s hand and follow them into a side street no matter how attractive they were. However, rather than your intuition screaming for you to pull your hand away and run, it remained quiet. You had never believed in aura, chakra, energy or whatever but it was like you could sense his and it gave you only positive vibes. 

Nothing made sense. A moment ago you were laying in bed on TikTok and now you were in the middle of a massive metropolitan area (you lived hours away from one) in the middle of a crowd with a guy you vaguely felt like you knew pulling you to God knows where?

Swallowing hard, you stumbled behind the larger male his broad back and strong shoulders taking up the majority of your view. You shadowed him closely so that you wouldn’t become separated. This was working fine until he abruptly stopped; someone cutting in front of you both with a bicycle. You tripped forward into his back, your fingers gripping tightly into his black crop top style jacket for support. A soft cry of surprise escaping your lips. He froze letting you regain your balance as you leaned against him fully. His back clearly muscled against your forearms and hands. “I’m sorry” you stammered out letting go once you reoriented yourself. The guy leading turned slightly towards you before readjusting your hand in his making sure not to let go. “N-no worries, one minute and we're there...” he announced in a soothing tone despite an outbreak of red flushing the top of his ears and the little bit of cheek you could see. 

True to his word less than a minute passed before there was a gap in the crowds and you both emerged into a smaller offshoot of the main walkway. You must be between stores where the garbage and back employee stairs were situated because the area was pretty empty opposed to the sidewalk not five feet away. The familiar individual in front of you released your hand and began digging in his jacket pockets now. Below the jacket was a simple white t-shirt followed by formal black pants. The t-shirt was snug not leaving much to the imagination as you felt yourself swallow hard. Part of his tongue popped out in the corner of his mouth as he kept searching for something. Your mind immediately goes, cute, at the small pink muscle wedged in the corner of his lips. “Miss, do you prefer sweet or salty food?” He formally inquired looking up with a smile. He managed to fish out some candies from his pockets alongside what looked like a few candy wrappers and some pocket lint. 

You blinked at the unappetizing handful  in his outstretched hand before studying his face again. It was driving you crazy how familiar he looked. Though another part of you couldn’t help but assert you wouldn’t forget a face this attractive and boyish.  A lazy smile graced his face as he looked you in the eyes holding forward his hand of proffered treasures. The way he expectantly looked at you reminded you instantly of a golden retriever. He was convinced that his outstretched handful would solve whatever issue made you double over in the street. “I bet it’s low blood sugar! My grandma has to deal with that so I got in the habit of carrying around a couple of candies in case she needs a little boost!” He gave a short laugh before reaching back to scratch his head with his free hand “but to be totally honest I usually end up eating it all and it’s really more of an excuse to keep candies on hand all the time…” he paused clearly still waiting for you to take one of the brightly wrapped sweets. His expression clearly reflecting that he could never imagine you not wanting one of the slightly melted goodies.

“Oh…okay, thank you?” Your response came out as more of a question then you intended as you glanced down and bridged your hand half way between you two before pausing. The wrappings were unfamiliar and you had no idea what exactly you were taking. A sarcastic voice in your head couldn’t help but quip, Good idea let's take candy from the stranger now that you’ve followed him into an alley.

He watched you, his smile never fading as you glanced up to make eye contact again a small furrow of confusion on your brow. He looked down at his own hand before exclaiming, “Oh! Right so this one is a little sour it’s got like a tangy…” the older teen continued to ramble on. His voice faded into the background as your brain went 100 miles per hour trying to catch up to everything happening. You definitely knew this guy. Was he a coworker's friend? That didn’t explain how the hell you ended up in a city. His candy spiel apparently ended as he looked up at you tilting his head to the side slightly. 

A light bulb suddenly went off in your head as you exclaimed out loudly pointing as if you had the answer to a game of Pictionary. “Yu! Haibara Yu!” 

Chapter 2

[olderthannetfic]

On "comments that are just pretending to like fics" - I mean, it's fanfic. It's a hobby community. People create the community they want to see. Encouraging comments are fun both to write and to read, and it's a way for the community to tell you to keep going!

As a writer, I'll never get better if I don't keep writing, and encouraging comments help me to do that. It's easy to look back on early stuff I wrote and cringe, but it's still art. That I actually made. That's cool af.

Personally, I leave a comment if I enjoyed it. True, not every fic is a masterpiece of literature that I would fanbind and keep on my bookshelf forever, but also, it doesn't have to be? That doesn't mean I didn't have fun reading it, or that the sex didn't have hot moments, or the premise wasn't cool, or there wasn't a line I loved. It's genuinely easy to find something nice to say that's truthful, even if I wasn't "wowed", per se. If I truly didn't like it enough to spend my time reading it to the end I'd have clicked the back button long before putting my energy into leaving a comment.

The content of the comment might differ, but I'd only ever leave one if I wanted the author to write more. Im always really excited to see people create and and watch them put themselves out there for my fandom or OTP or what have you, even if it's not to my taste. Even if it's not for me, it's definitely for someone, even if that someone is just the author, and I'd be very sad if it was gone.

And to be honest, if you write for a rare pair or a small fandom, some people will literally love you no matter what you make. People will be over the moon that you're there also liking the thing they like.

--

[mrsreginagold]

I need to edit my weekly Nikari, but what happened yesterday regarding my accidental stumbling across a hater (either of my ship or just of me "spamming" the category on AO3, who knows but I'm not interacting with them to find out), started this cycle of self-doubt that's plagued me for years in fandom. And I need to ramble to exorcise it from my system.

Generally my experience has been that I get swept under the rug. Whether it's because I ship something rare or from a defunct fandom, I sadly have gotten used to being ignored. But it's also what's always made me hesitant to post my work somewhere more public than I'm comfortable with.

Back in my OUAT days, it took a *lot* to get me to finally start posting Golden Queen over on fanfiction.net. When I eventually got brave enough for AO3, I began with a small Star Wars ship that only mildly took off, and then moved on to my beloved Calibessa from Penny Dreadful.

My public posting hiatus occurred when I finally got fed up -- mostly due to the fallout of canon Golden Queen and an influx of explicit fic gaining more popularity by default than the virtual library I had been creating for years, I think anyone could understand me getting just a smidge bitter. But instead of bemoaning I took my leave. I was starting to suffer from some burn out anyway, so it was a good time to quietly exit.

I was fairly content taking a break and then slowly writing for myself again. I had ships that I enjoyed making private content for, and over the next few years I regained my passion for something that I consider a deep part of who I am: which is creating in general.

Then I got into Nikita, and Nikari came along.

You have to understand that I had not had a ship drive me the way they did since Calibessa. Sure I had some new pairings come along that I loved. I also delved back into beloved older pairs for variety. But Nikari just...sparked something in me that I can't fully explain.

I am incredibly grateful that I met some lovely souls in the Peter Outerbridge tag who coaxed me into sharing my work again. You all know who you are and your opinions are the ones that actually matter to me. The only reason I'm feeling any hurt and anger right now is because people just don't know how to be polite about pairings anymore. Bring back the term squick. It gets the point across without sounding rude.

Full disclosure: Pirahnashipping squicks me. Hell, John Kramer in general squicks me (though kudos to Tobin for his iconic performances in the role). I don't go bemoaning the fact that most of the content for William Easton is that, because I know it's what makes other people happy. I block/mute as appropriate, write my silly self indulgent crack ship for Will, and go on my merry way. It is *incredibly* simple.

The TL:DR of this is that it's very important to recognize that what you may view as a yuck is another person's yum, and that there is a person with feelings at the other end of the screen.

Anyway that's all for now. I've wasted enough time and must go edit now.

Oh and who knows if I'll ever properly archive my other works for other fandoms on AO3. If someone can get all up in a twist over Nikari, I shudder to think what Golden Queen or my tokusatsu based het will do.

[thedrarrylibrarian]

Several people have been kind enough to let me publish their thoughts on fandom, community, and queerness to celebrate Pride in the Library. Today's piece comes from @wolfpants.

Dear readers, dreamers, and purveyors of the glittering, gilded aisles of the Drarry Library,

Fandom life began for me at age fifteen. We just got our first family computer, taking pride of place in the utility room between the boiler and my dad’s boxes of tools. I had recently come out as bisexual to my friends at school, who, props to them, had all taken it quite well despite the small town we grew up in (I was very lucky, they were great - everyone else though? Not so much). Still, even with supportive friends offline, I never felt like I could talk to them about what I really enjoyed: watching Buffy, reading Harry Potter and looking for queer subtext (I could never have convinced any of them that Harry’s story screams gay allegory–no matter what JKR has to say on the topic back then or now), scouring bookshops and libraries for any sort of queer content I could get my hands on, desperate as I was to read something that spoke to me, to read about love outside of the heteronormative landscape of the popular media. I wasn’t just tired of boy-meets-girl; I had never identified with it in the first place.

The year we got dial-up internet was the year I discovered Livejournal. The absolute joy I felt, stumbling upon an LJ community specifically dedicated to roleplaying Harry Potter characters in queer pairings. Discovering, beyond that, that people wrote stories about Harry and my other favourite queer-coded character of the series: Draco Malfoy. And then it was Wolfstar (specifically Sirius), then Drarry again, and somewhere along the way my lurking fell off and I stopped reading fic for a while when I moved to London and settled into my first job, my first real relationship, and sitting uncomfortably atop my bisexual identity and not really knowing where that shift happened and why. All the while, I was pursuing a writing career on the more journalistic side: writing for music and film outlets, doing a little bit of secret creative writing on the side, dipping in and out of HP RPGs but never really—connecting. In “real life”, my relationship with my ex was falling apart, and I felt very disconnected from the LGBTQIA+ community because, even though I knew I belonged, I never felt like I could be truly me with anyone—perhaps because I was, unknowingly, still discovering who I really was.

When the pandemic happened, it gave me the breathing space I needed to get to that point. It brought me back to fandom.

It started with reading The Popular Wolfstar Fic Everyone Was Reading, and reopening my ao3 account to re-read some old favourites from over the years. It then unrolled to, hey, I have some free time, why don’t I try writing my own Wolfstar fic for my oldest, dearest friend (who I met RPing on LJ at 15!), which then turned into: you should publish this, and see what happens.

So, I did. And I made a tumblr account, and I lurked for a while, shyly reblogging things and scrolling through author accounts I’d admired from a very young age, astonished and really fucking impressed that they were still in the game. I read their new fics, I was drawn back into Drarry, and from there I discovered what a wonderful community this is, not only for its immensely talented creatives, but for its values as a inclusive, equitable, supportive, uplifting, and joyful group of individuals who genuinely welcome everyone with open arms and love. That, in itself, has made it easy to reach out to like-minded folks here, to make life-long friends, to chat to people who have been through similar experiences in questioning their identities (it is truly thanks to this fandom and the many discussions I’ve had with people here that I’ve been able to realise my identity as a NB lesbian). To write! To share! To not be ashamed of my kinks and to discover fun, delicious rare pairs! To look at breathtaking art and read some of the best goddamn writing I’ve ever set eyes on!

I have spent thirty-seven years on this planet. A good chunk of that time has been spent questioning many parts, pieces, and niggly jiggly bits of my identity. Who am I? What am I? Is there anyone out there who is just like me?

After many years of searching in the dark, of asking these questions over and over, I can joyously say that the answer is: yes. And oh, how thankful I am for that, for all of you, because fandom has really been the community I can categorically point to and say: they did that for me, we did that for we, and I will do anything for you.

Happy pride.

Thank you, Wolf, for joining me in the Library. Your love and joy for fandom have left me feeling quite tender-hearted, in the best way. It's so so good to ask the question "Is there anyone out there who is just like me?" and find over and over that the answer chorusing back is "yes." Thank you for adding your yes to our chorus, and joining me for Pride in the Library.

If you want more @wolfpants be sure to check out their work on AO3! I can't help but recommend the fic that made me fall in love with her writing in the first place, Pages of You, which I've featured previously for Happy Hour. It's got Drarry and Wolfstar, and is one of my favorite comfort rereads.

🏳️‍🌈 Lots of Love and Happy Pride! 🏳️‍🌈

[violadiaries]

Fluffcember Day 3: Snow Man

@fluff-cember

Fandom: That Time I got Reincarnated as a Slime in another world / Tensei shittara slime Datta ken / Tensura

Pairing: Guy Crimson x Leon Cromwell

Crossposted on AO3 (Ch. 4)

As the days got longer and snow started to fall, in the country of El Dorado, Leon found himself just watching the outside from his office more often than he should. Yet at the same time it was so very relaxing to him. Especially with the way his office window was facing not the inner side of the castle, but instead the town surrounding it. And something about watching the children play in the snow calmed him down. He was getting told over and over and over again anyways that he was working too much. So he might as well tone it down a little bit more like this. The preparations for the season were done anyways, and everything else for the New Years and Christmas festivities was settled as well.

So Leon allowed himself to just watch with a cup of his favourite tea in hand. Something of it reminded him of his own childhood, while at the same time not. Whenever he had been playing with Chloe it had been similar. Running around in the snow, building a snow man and things like that. The moment she had gone home, he hadn't been allowed to run around carefree anymore. Part of his reason why he needed to keep his country safe. So these children would be allowed to play. Even those with more unfortunate circumstances to themselves.

Sometimes he even found himself wondering what the kids would think if they knew. It had happened once in the past, many years ago now. That they had noticed him watching from his office. The kids had started to make it into a contest. Whoever made the best looking snow man. Even if Leon himself had never named a victor. He was content as long as they had fun. And as long as he could take a break from the stress of watching over his own country.

Leon sighed as his door opened. He turned back to his desk, frowning at the pile of papers he still needed to look over. He had hoped he would at least be able to finish his cup of tea, before he would need to get back to work again. Though his visitor definitely was not there to remind him of his work. Most likely the opposite actually. Guy strutted into his office as if he owned it. Leon wished he would have at least informed him about visiting beforehand. Not that he ever could be bothered with little formalities like that.

Leon turned back to the window again, allowing himself a little bit more of his break, as Guy strutted over. He knew he wouldn't get any significant work done with Guy hovering around him anyways.

"Don't ignore me, Leon~" Guy whined.

Leon sighed yet hid a small smirk behind his teacup. As if Guy would allow him to ignore him. While before the particular group of children having become the point of Leon's focus had been having a snowball fight, apparently they had now decided to bury that hatchet and go over to building a snow man.

"I'm not ignoring you. What do you want?" Leon asked.

He kept sipping his tea and closed his eyes for a moment, once he knew Guy was close enough to him. Somehow he wouldn't mind a little bit of a distraction right now. Guy stopped behind his chair, placing his hands on Leon's shoulders, before leaning forward. Placing his chin on the top of Leon's head, trying to figure out what exactly he was looking at.

He had found the kids playing their little game soon enough. Which didn't mean he understood what exactly they were doing, and why Leon had seemed so very relaxed while watching them. They were only kids, so he really didn't need to be jealous, but at the same time was it a rare sight. And Guy wanted to understand it better.

"I wanted to see you, my lovely hero," Guy said.

Leon nodded slightly, making sure to not cause Guy to lose his balance. While the sight would be an amusing one, it wasn't one he wanted right now. Not when Guy would definitely retaliate in some way or form. Nothing he was looking forward to right now. Nothing he needed to bother with.

"What exactly are we watching?" Guy asked.

Leon opened his eyes again, and watched as the kids talked amongst one another. Soon after they left, looking for more materials for their snow man. Leon wondered what it would look like once fully finished.

He knew the kids were from the orphanage nearby. So maybe they'd model it after their caretaker. A young woman, having fled the Eastern Empire, if he remembered correctly. Though some of his knights were always popular role models for the children as well.

"They're building a snow man. Basically they are playing," Leon said.

It couldn't be described any other way. Especially because the snow man would have no other function but to look cool or pretty or whatever. They just spend some time together outside. Though he could make a point, that it could be a good exercise to build a good team dynamic. They had to work together after all.

"In the end, that lump out of snow should at least slightly resemble a caricature of a human," he added.

Guy hummed, though Leon was sure he still didn't quiet get it. For once he wouldn't blame him. It was something he would need to experience himself. And if Leon hadn't been so cosy in his own office, he might have even offered to show him. Yet he'd rather stay inside.

"Mhm…I see. And you like it, because they are at peace while doing that? Playing?" Guy asked.

Leon nodded and made an affirmative noise. He was surprised that Guy actually tried to understand his point of view. Though whenever it was really just the two of them, he was surprisingly different at times. Almost domestic somewhat.

Guy stood up straight again and walked closer to the window. Leon put his cup down and did the same. Coming to a halt next to Guy. Guy didn't waste any time in stepping behind Leon, wrapping his arms around him. Placing his head on Leon's shoulder, just in time for the children to return. Leon threw a glance over his shoulder, finding his office door shut tight and locked. He let out a sigh and turned his attention to the kids outside again. A smile stole itself onto his lips. 

"See, I remembered that you don't like it when I show my adoration for you where other's can see," Guy whispered.

A shiver ran down Leon's spine at the tone of his voice. Also at the way his breath brushed over Leon's skin. He had seemed to have thought about that. Which was why Leon wasn't pushing him away. No matter how much he denied him his advances most of the time, some times he didn't really mind.

Leon placed a hand on Guy's while leaning slightly against him. Yet, unfortunately Guy never really always thought about that. Leon supposed it was a testament to their friendship…partnership that he let him get close enough to make him uncomfortable in the first place.

"Now if you could please always pay attention to that, Guy," Leon said.

Guy chuckled and lightly shook his head, as they kept watching the kids. Leon raised an eyebrow when instead of a scarf, the children put a black cloth, definitely meaning to resemble a cape around the snow man. Holding it together with a large stone, not unsimilar to how his small breast armour held his cape in place.

Guy noticed it at the same time and started to laugh, while Leon just let out a sigh. Still smiling at the scene. After the children were satisfied with their work, they waved to the snowman, before turning around, definitely having seen him watching them before. Or at least one of them had seen him and told the other. If the way all of them were accurately waving to him, before running off, was anything to go by. He definitely should not have dismissed that possibility.

"It somehow looks a little lonely, don't you think, Leon?" Guy asked,

Leon rolled his eyes and shook his head. He just hoped Guy wouldn't get any idiotic ideas, which would ruin the hard work of the kids. At least while the weather held up cold, which it would for a while longer, the snow man would stay standing.

That was something Leon always made sure, whenever he saw some of the kids build something there. That it survived the longest time possible. And while he wasn't always as successful as he liked to be, he tried. Leon's face fell as his thoughts drifted. Hating how he hadn't been able to try his best with her, too blinded by his own goals at the time. His own selfish desires. 

"Well, let's go and have some fun, alright?" Guy said.

Leon flinched slightly and looked at Guy. Who was grinning to both ears at him. As if he had noticed the shift in his behaviour. No he definitely had noticed. Before Leon could even try to object, or even try to get out of it by saying he still had work to do, Guy had already started pulling him away from the window. Somehow Leon found himself glad for the little distraction. He had no way of changing the past, and even if, it would probably cause a horrible butterfly effect in the long run.

Leon let Guy pull him towards the door. He didn't even know why Guy liked to walk through his castle so much. Whenever anywhere else he would simply use spacial movement to get where he would need to be. Never when he was visiting Leon. The moment they left the room, Leon pulled his hand from Guy, opting to simply walk next to him. Somehow he has a feeling, Guy had something planned for him. He just hoped it wouldn't be too bad.

Though with his attention having been taken away too quickly Leon hadn't seen the second snow man having miraculously appeared next to the one the children had built. Standing rather close together now, twig arms touching. Sporting a black bandana and small stones placed beneath the eyes, forming two half moon shapes each.

[demona-andariel]

Object of Obsession - 1 / 46

Fandom: Halloween

Pairing: Michael Myers x OFC

Summary: In Haddonfield everyone knows the legend that was Michael Myers. Content and at ease, they’d forgotten what it was to feel fear in the month of October. But now, he finds himself back and ready for blood but then a bond forms between him and one of his victims. A bond he can’t seem to break. And it starts to make him do things he never thought of doing before.

Warnings: (Encompassing the whole story in no particular order) kidnapping, noncon, explicit sexual content, smut, loss of virginity, rough sex, blood and violence, knifeplay, canon-typical violence

Author Note: Minors DNI!

Word Count: 3,172

Chapter 1 - The Beginning

A fake witch jumped up, cackling through a terrible voice box, causing Gretchen Carter to jump and let out a small scream. Hugging her books closer to her chest she let out a sigh, trying to calm her heart. The damn witch always scared her when she left the public library. She hated the month of October, she hated Halloween and she wasn’t a fan of Haddonfield. But for the fact, that her boyfriend lived in town, she never would have moved. Not that she was staying for very long. Once Brandon figured out what he wanted to do she’d join him. Twenty-two and already financially independent due to her parents dying and her inheriting a bunch of money. It left her with the unique ability to live wherever she wanted and do whatever she wanted.

Nearing her car, she pressed the key fob to unlock her car.

A hand wrapped around her waist and twirled her around, causing her to shriek in delight. “M’lady?” her boyfriend Brandon said as he tipped a non-existent hat. “Will you be joining me on an adventure tonight?”

Her heart jumped at the thought as she leaned up to kiss him. “It is not an adventure we planned?” she asked.

His eyes twinkled. “Can I help you?” he asked as he grabbed the books from her hands. She gulped, not entirely comfortable with it, but didn’t fight him letting him take half the pile. “Learning to cook?” he teased.

She smiled. “I mean, I gotta learn how to be a good housewife right?” she teased back.

He gave her a look then shook his head. “You’re far too independent to be stuck at home all day long,” he commented. Opening the back door to her back seat, he placed the books he had into the backseat and then turned to grab the rest of them. Setting them down, he cocked his head to one side and picked one up. “The Occult World,” he read.

She shrugged her shoulders as she took it from him and set it in her backseat. “It’s almost Halloween and I always get in the mood to read about the supernatural.” It was a half-truth, half-lie. Halloween wasn’t the only time she liked to read up on the occult.

He smiled, taking her words at face value. He rarely questioned her. “Yeah, Haddonfield loves Halloween. As you can tell. You’d think we’d hate it after all those murders years ago. But I don’t know. I remember my mom saying that a mayor wanted to make some money off the tragic events and decided to embrace the Halloween theme. She doesn’t think it’s right since she remembers. She was just a kid then. But, people like making money off tragedies.”

She nodded then shuddered as chills ran through her body. The myth and legend that was Michael Myers. Part of it was based on a true story of that she was sure. He had killed his family as a child, and when he was all grown up, he’d escaped from the mental hospital he was kept in and went to finish the job by trying to kill his sister. While getting to her, he killed multiple other people. He’d been shot and killed, but the locals claimed they never found his body. And his sister disappeared, leaving town to never be seen or heard from again. There were other rumors of sightings of the masked man holding a knife.

Her mind seemed to travel and suddenly she was in a forest area filled with a dense fog. The leaves danced with a sudden breeze and whispered. Danger. She looked up and there he was. He walked out from the fog wearing coveralls, a shiny clean knife in one hand, white mask over his face. The Michael Myers of myth and legend. And he was walking straight for her. She gasped in surprise. The ground was slippery from the morning dew and she slipped on it as she was trying to get away from him, falling on her ass to the ground. Somehow he’d easily walked the distance between them in moments. She looked up as he raised his knife over his head to plunge it down into her heart-

“Gretch?” Brandon asked with concern as he gently pushed her, snapping her back to reality.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” she asked. She hated her imagination. It always brought her to places she didn’t want to be.

“You’re looking a little pale. Are you feeling alright?” he asked as he gently cupped her face.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He searched her eyes. “You know, we don’t have to go through with it tonight. We can do it tomorrow or next month. Or any day.”

She looked up at him, using her hands to roam his body till she could get under his shirt and touch his skin. She rubbed his sides. He let out a cough.

“I want us to have sex tonight. I’m done waiting. You, me, your car, virginity gone!” she demanded.

He gulped, lust entering his eyes. “Then I shall pick you up at 8,” he said, grabbing her hands, he brought them up to his mouth and kissed them.

“And don’t forget to dress up,” she called out. “We’re going to Michaela’s costume party tonight.”

He smiled and blew her a kiss before briskly walking away.

She was glad he left. She wasn’t sure she could control herself much more. Although they’d been dating for a year, they didn’t actually meet in person till this past summer when she’d come up to see him. After that, it was her getting her finances in order, finding a place to rent, and figuring out how to move. She’d been living in town for a little over three months and they still hadn’t done the deed.

Sighing, she got into her car and started the engine. It wasn’t that she was against sex. She just never found the person she wanted to have sex with. But when she met Brandon she knew he was the one. Her soulmate. Her mind had immediately taken her away into a vision of sorts. They were in his car, kissing, touching, petting. They were going to have sex. They both knew it. They both were ready.

A shiver ran down her spine as the idea of what she knew was going to come slowly clouded into darkness. She let out a sigh. Her brain was a funny thing. It liked to tease her about things, but never finish them. But tonight, oh tonight. She was going to finish what her brain started. She felt her stomach flutter at the thought.

A rumble overhead caught her attention. She looked up and frowned as a storm started to take shape.

The sound of people laughing and celebrating grated on him. He wanted to kill them all. He had no reason for it. It was just what he was supposed to do. He watched a group of people in costumes walk along a road as they made their way into a house that was much too loud. Unfortunately, too many people. For now at least. He could pick them off, one by one as they left, most likely drunk and too stupid to notice he was there until he dealt them the killing blow.

But, it wasn’t quite Halloween. Not that day or time mattered, but this time he wanted to start out slow and progress. The town of Haddonfield had made a mockery of him. He was going to make them fear his name. His hand clenched around his knife.

The wind rustled around him. And he looked up toward a hill situated a little bit outside of town. His breathing deepened. He knew that place. The kids called it Lover’s Lane. During his wanderings, he’d seen a car or two parked up there. Young teenagers were fucking. Easy targets.

His body moved automatically as he tried to control his breath. People were wrong in thinking he didn’t feel. He did feel emotion. Butterflies fluttered in his chest at the thought. He was going to start his killing spree again.

Gretchen stared out of the window of her car as Brandon drove them. It was going to rain, she could smell it in the air, she’d seen it in the clouds earlier. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like they were going to fuck outside.

Brandon looked over at her, putting his hand on hers and squeezing. She smiled as she looked over at him. She hadn’t talked much since he’d picked her up. He’d arrived dressed as a knight, and she had dressed up as a princess, making sure that her costume had two separate pieces and a loose enough long skirt to hike up in case she got impatient.

She let him drive her car since her car had the biggest seat of the two. But after they had kissed and headed on their journey she’d been quiet. It wasn’t that she was having second thoughts. Something was bothering her, and she was trying to figure out what.

She’d packed an overnight bag with some extra clothes and she wasn’t exactly sure why. She had a feeling she would need it and she had learned to listen to her feelings.

“Is this it?” she asked excitedly as he turned down a hard-to-see dirt road. The first words that were spoken since they started their journey.

A smile crossed his face as he winked at her.

Her heart skipped a beat. This was it. She couldn’t wait. Before her parents died she’d promised that she’d wait to have sex till she was eighteen. Once she hit eighteen she figured she could wait some more till she found the right guy. She wasn’t in a rush. Looking at Brandon, his wavy short dark-brown hair, dark eyes, and handsome features, she knew she’d hit the jackpot. She shook her head at her silly thoughts. It didn’t matter that he was handsome, that was a bonus. He was kind and gentle, and most importantly, they were connected.

He pulled up to a clearing and parked the car to overlook the town. She let out a gasp as she looked at it from above. It did look quite beautiful.

“You look beautiful,” he said as he looked at her dreamily, running a hand through her long brown hair. His brown eyes met her hazel ones. She caught his hand and planted a kiss on it, looking up at him through her eyelashes. “Fuck,” he whispered as he leaned over to kiss her.

She felt her cheeks go red as she blushed, greedily kissing him back.

“How did I ever get so fucking lucky?” he finally asked, pulling away.

“The gods smiled upon you,” she teased as she pulled down her strapless top. Her breasts popped out and he bit his lip while groaning. She reached out, locking her fingers behind his head as she pulled him into a deep kiss, her tongue demanding his. He obliged. His hands ran along her sides till he reached her breasts. She let out a moan as he flicked her nipples and played with them. Why in the world had she waited so long?

She couldn’t wait much longer. Her hands traveled down his body onto his pants, feeling the bulge. She could feel a tingle in her pussy. She was getting wet. Her hands found the button and zipper and she quickly freed his cock. Breaking free from their fondling she looked at it, a smile crossing her face. He was hard and ready for her. He grabbed her hand as she reached for him.

“Uh, Gretch,” his cheeks blushed a deep red. “You got me really hot and bothered earlier today. I don’t think I can last much longer. For right now that is.” He breathed heavily.

“Oh,” she said. Thinking quickly, she climbed over the front seat into the back and slid her underwear down. He quickly joined her, rubbing up against her as he felt for her sex while kissing her again.

Her heart thumped in her chest and she moaned as his fingers found her clit. She let out a giggle as her body filled with intense emotions.

“Are you sure you want to do this here?’ Brandon asked her in concern as he lay over her. “I mean, your apartment.” She nodded then shook her head in answer to his questions. Her mind went back to the images she had when she first met him. They’re in the car. He’s over her. They’re going to fuck. She knows it. Her soulmate- A frown crossed her face as her thoughts turned into darkness once again.

“Gretch?” he asked, noticing the change in her face.

She shook her head, banishing the dark cloud away. This was a good thing. She wanted to lose her virginity to Brandon. He was her soulmate. Her destiny. Her future.

“It’s nothing,” she said, leaning up to kiss him. Her heart pounding with anticipation and- fear?

“This might hurt a little bit,” he said with a shaky voice. “What I’m told.”

“I’m not an idiot,” she grabbed her purse from the back of her seat, digging through it till she found a condom and pulled it out as well as a small bottle of lube. “Safety first! And lube it up, let’s go.”

He let out a chuckle then his breathing deepened as she slowly tore the condom package while looking at him. One of his hands vigorously rubbed one breast, while the other went under her skirt and played with her ass.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he growled.

Her eyes danced with mischief. “I know,” she replied. Suddenly, she grew shy again.

She handed him the condom and lube for him to put on. He rolled his eyes as he let her go to roll the condom on. “You’ve done this before,” he commented. It was true. She’d given him blowjobs and handjobs before with and without condoms. But this felt different. For some reason, she felt shy and timid. She wanted him to take charge right now. He’d had sex before. He knew what to do. She wanted him to lead her.

They weren’t exactly comfortable in the backseat of his car. She moved her skirt up, wishing she hadn’t worn her costume. She should have taken the whole thing off, but she was worried that someone else would come along and see her naked.

“Oh wow,” he said, staring at her pussy, making her blush again. He kissed her again and she eagerly returned his kiss, his hands wandering her body, fondling her breasts. She moaned as she moved her hands under his shirt. They had on too many clothes, her brain complained. Deep down she knew it would be way easier with fewer clothes, but they could get real naked another time. Right now, she wanted to get this done. Finally, pulling back he nodded toward her. “Ready?” he asked.

She nodded and looked down to watch. She could feel him staring at her. She could feel the love in his eyes as he started to enter her.

Her senses screamed danger. “Brandon… Brandon!” Gretchen screeched, pushing him away from her, but accidentally toward the danger she saw. Her eyes widened in terror, pressing herself back into her door, quickly covering her body.

Lightning flashed as thunder struck while at the same time the car window busted as an arm with a knife came through, slashing Brandon’s back. He screamed in pain and turned. The hand not holding the knife unlocked the door and threw it open. He didn’t have much time to react as the knife plunged into his leg. Gretchen screamed as she grabbed Brandon, trying to keep him from being dragged out of the car. It was useless. The man pulled Brandon out with ease and he landed with a hard thump on the wet ground. The skies broke and water poured down.

Gretchen screamed as the man pulled Brandon up by his neck with one hand. Brandon started to struggle to escape and to breathe. But the man didn’t seem bothered and barely even moved by Brandon’s effort. Instead, he slowly and deliberately put his knife through the fake knight’s armor, into Brandon’s chest.

Gretchen covered her mouth with her hands in horror as the man waited till Brandon stopped moving. He let the body go and stared at it for a moment as it dropped in a heap at his feet. Her Brandon was dead. Her future was gone. The killer’s body had no real features that she could latch onto. He was a shape in the rain. Slowly, he turned his head and through his mask, looked back at her. Coveralls, a bloody knife, a white mask, emotionless eyes. Michael Myers was real.

Her fight or flight instincts kicked in as she pushed the passenger door open and toppled onto the ground. There was no time to grab her shoes, not that they would have helped as they were high heels. She ran, slipping in the fresh mud, ignoring the pain as she stepped on rocks and twigs. If she made it to the main road she could get a car to stop. Maybe… No! They might not see her with the new downpour. Her mind showed her the way. She had to go into the woods. Michaela’s house was only a mile and a half away if she took the shortcut through the woods.

She had to make it. The trees were within reach. She could make it! She let out a scream as a hand grabbed her hair, pulling her back. How in the world had he caught up to her? She fell to the ground at his feet. The knife was inches from her face. She looked up at him. Was this why the images of her future were dark? Was this how she died?

She could see his eyes through his mask. No emotions. A killer. His hand reached down to grab her neck with one hand while the knife was raised up with the other. He wanted to kill her like he killed Brandon. No! She wasn’t going to die like this. Quickly, she bit his hand, surprising him as he pulled back. She tried to get to her feet and run. This was her moment. His fingers grabbed at her, and she felt a sharp stinging pain as his knife sliced her somewhere. Her feet slipped in the wet grass without having her arms to save her as she was struggling to free her hair from him, she fell. Pain shot through her head and she couldn’t move as the wind was knocked out of her. He stood above her. Brandon’s blood, still coating his knife, slowly dripping down thanks to the rain. So, she was right after all. Brandon was her soulmate. Her blood would soon join his. Damn, she should have had sex with him months ago. It was difficult for her to keep her eyes open. She wanted her killer to see the anger, the defiance. If she became a ghost, she was going to make sure she haunted his ass. The last thing she saw was his knife raised above her and then her world went dark.

Chapter 2 - Unexpected Turn of Events