#cote au

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday & WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @josephseedismyfather

Tagging @voidika @imogenkol @socially-awkward-skeleton @inafieldofdaisies @aceghosts @cloudofbutterflies92 @cassietrn @direwombat @noodlecupcakes @adelaidedrubman @raresvtm @derelictheretic @davrinsgriffons @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @yokobai and @seedsplease + anyone else who'd like to join.

Music for A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore and The UnTitledverse and WIP snippets for The UnTitledverse and The Silver Chronicles. Listen and read below the cut:

First song for my Sole Survivor OC Nate Gust Sarid from my Fallout 4 WIP A Symbol For A Better World in my A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore series. Nate... is amongst many of my Fallout OCs in particular who goes through a rough stage in his life. The life he knew originally ends with a bang, he and many of his neighbors are frozen in stasis and he witnesses his wife die and his son get taken and wakes up again decades later as the "Sole Survivor" (...or is he?) in a world trying to heal but still under conflict. And while he wants nothing but to find his son and avenge his wife, he instead gets caught up in helping the factions around the Commonwealth just to get the resources and aid necessary to find his son (as well as make the Commonwealth safer for his son when he brings him home). The only one who seems to just want to help him with no strings attached is strange flippant woman named Ress who really wants to kill her own dad (whoever he may be). Honestly Nate gets the most depressing narrative for a Fallout OC of mine and his arc is to find hope again (which starts with his friendship with Ress, which kickstarts her own arc of becoming someone more than she perceives herself to be, e.g. a symbol of hope instead of a bad omen like her father). Putting him up there with Alph Dolen (my Lone Wanderer OC) and Finidy Mona (my Chosen One OC). Anyway, song below:

"High, high hopes."

"Had to have high, high hopes for a living Shooting for the stars when I couldn't make a killing Didn't have a dime, but I always had a vision Always had high, high hopes ("High, high hopes!") Had to have high, high hopes for a living Didn't know how, but I always had a feeling I was gonna be that one in a million Always had high, high hopes

Mama said, "Fulfill the prophecy Be something greater, go make a legacy" Manifest destiny, back in the days We wanted everything, wanted everything ("High, high hopes!") Mama said, "Burn your biographies Rewrite your history, light up your wildest dreams" Museum victories every day We wanted everything, wanted everything

Mama said, "Don't give up, it's a little complicated All tied up, no more love and I'd hate to see you waiting"

Had to have high, high hopes for a living Shooting for the stars when I couldn't make a killing Didn't have a dime, but I always had a vision Always had high, high hopes Had to have high, high hopes for a living Didn't know how, but I always had a feeling I was gonna be that one in a million Always had high, high hopes ("High, high hopes!")

Mama said, "It's uphill for oddities Stranger crusaders ain't ever wannabes" The weird and the novelties that don't ever change We wanted everything, wanted everything ("High, high hopes!") Stay up on that rise Stay up on that rise and never come down, oh Stay up on that rise Stay up on that rise and never come down

Mama said, "Don't give up, it's a little complicated All tied up, no more love and I'd hate to see you waiting" They say it's all been done, but they haven't seen the best of me-eh-eh-eh So I got one more run and it's gonna be a sight to see-eh-eh-eh

Had to have high, high hopes for a living Shooting for the stars when I couldn't make a killing Didn't have a dime, but I always had a vision Always had high, high hopes ("High, high hopes!") Had to have high, high hopes for a living Didn't know how, but I always had a feeling I was gonna be that one in a million Always had high, high hopes ("High, high hopes!")

Had to have high, high hopes for a living Shooting for the stars when I couldn't make a killing Didn't have a dime, but I always had a vision Always had high, high hopes Had to have high, high hopes for a living Didn't know how, but I always had a feeling I was gonna be that one in a million Always had high, high hopes!" ("High, high hopes!")

Macklemore, Ryan Lewis, Melle Mel, Grandmaster Caz, Kool Moe Dee & Eric Nally's "Downtown" is a song I typically listen to when working on my Detroit: Become Human WIP called Detroit: Battleground from my The UnTitledverse series (I also listen to Nicki Minaj's "Starships" while working on the WIP but that's a post for another time). And I gotta be honest... I don't know why. Does a song about an interaction between a shopper and a moped salesman got anything to do with androids fighting for their rights with the help of a cat and dilophosaurus as a malevolent virus goes around killing the rich and wealthy while stealing autonomy away from sentient androids got anything to do with each other? Unless you're really looking deep into things... not really. I'm sure if you squint you could find something, like how I imagine Detroit to be this downtown city even though I've never been there and I'm probably wrong. Like yeah... I just think the WIP and song vibe with each other on the level that Madonna's "Like A Prayer" vibes with Deadpool and Wolverine... neither had anything to do with each other but they still work! Anyway, listen below:

"Downtown, downtown ("Downtown!") Downtown, downtown She has her arms around your waist With a balance that will keep her safe (Downtown)

Have you ever felt the warm embrace (Downtown) Of a leather seat between your legs? (Hey, hey-ey-ey, hey, hey-ey-ey, hey, hey-ey-ey, hey, hey-ey-ey!)

Downtown You don't want no beef, boy Know I run the streets, boy Better follow me towards

Downtown What you see is what you get, girl Don't ever forget, girl Ain't seen nothing yet until you're

Downtown You don't want no beef, boy Know I run the streets, boy Better follow me towards

Downtown What you see is what you get, girl Don't ever forget, girl Ain't seen nothing yet until you're Downtown!"

First WIP is for the FC5 Bloodborne AU, showing a snippet where John and Jacob had rallied their followers to attempt their first assault to take the Convent back and confront Vicar Faith... but just before they encounter a powerful obstacle in the forms of the Church Hunters, and very much before they notice the first sign that somethings different about the Bliss. Read below:

Passing by the rocks, John looked out his side of the window, and saw the glimpses of the Convent; a property that once belonged to the Project before they made the deal with that deceitful snake, Paul Yellowjack.

As Jacob turned the corner, John could see how drastically it changed since last they handed it over.

The congregation hall was bigger, altered into a chapel. The dormitories were present, but seemed to be in disuse; and given the bodies of black-garbed Hunters laying outside the small stone walls, John made an educated guess as to why.

He grimaced at the distant sight of the so-called "Church Hunters" patrolling within the vicinity of the Convent. Adorning large wide-brimmed hats, cloaked in white over their dark hooded garbs, the hulking creatures were far from human; they were twice as tall as ordinary people, their skin drained of all colors except a ghostly pale, their features eternally etched in a ghastly stiff and emotionless face, their glazed blank eyes somehow more soulless than their shorter and more temperamental cousins.

John wondered how this one night managed to have him prefer their twitching, jittery and screaming Angels to the Monastery's stoically calm, sluggish moving and low moaning Church Hunters.

Though John could easily explain that as away as the result of the former being volunteers or those too full of doubt that Bliss was needed to elevate their minds, even if John didn't like it. Meanwhile, the latter were a vehement vileness towards the beauty God their souls' vessels, nothing more than husks that the disgraceful Saint Matilda managed to gain since Faith was appointed the Monastery's vicar.

The reminder of their astray "sister" was enough for a scowl to nearly break through.

"Guess Dansky was right for once," Jacob spoke up, surveying the Convent from afar as he pulled the truck to a stop, thankfully not pushing any further, "They're keeping people out, even those who are supposed to be their own."

That detail both disturbed and confused John; despite their lives often being full of vice, the Hunters risked their lives and sanity ensure the safety of everyone, regardless of affiliation, from the vile beasts that roamed the county, compared to the Church Hunters, who resided around properties owned by the Monastery, like guard dogs.

Such a quality was something that John and his brothers could agree on finding an admirable trait about the Hunters. But to see them so callously murdered by trusted affiliates just for seeking a well-known safe haven to recover made his blood boil. Though it also raised questions about tonight.

Like, why?

Why reveal their true colors on this night of all nights? What was the purpose of disposing their only forces against the beasts? How does the "Hunt of the Long Night" differ from previous nights? Was it a similar case to the "Night of Flames"? But why does Paul continue to broadcast his warnings and reminders to the civilians if he's assumed to be behind this?

John didn't have answers. Neither did his brothers nor any of their followers. But... perhaps their wayward sister did.

The other envoys full of Jacob's Chosen and John's bravest men and women also pulled to a stop, awaiting further action.

John reached to the backseat for the automatic rifle he stored in there, with Jacob checking the ammo of a pistol in the glove box.

Jacob looked to John, watching as his younger brother checked the magazine and loaded it back it upon seeing it was full, flicking safety off. John was surprised when his older brother placed the pistol against his chest, forcing him to hold it.

"Take it," Jacob gruffly ordered, gesturing to John's empty holster. When John tried to refuse it with a push away, Jacob stared at him harder, and looking into their shared blue eyes was something John didn't see much often in his older brother; behind the insistence was worry.

Not that John could blame him... tonight had been rough on his older brother, especially with the failed arrest nearly costing Joseph's life and the compound being uninhabitable due to the Beasts lured over by the helicopter's crash.

"John. Just take it," Jacob insisted roughly, and though John wanted nothing more to show his brother that he was capable on his own, he gave in, taking Jacob's pistol.

Jacob gave a satisfied nod, patting John's shoulder before exiting the driver's seat, going to the trunk to get his rifle.

John looked ahead to the convent, where he saw the blue hue of some Church Hunter's lanterns illuminate, grimly alluring.

He swore he could see the outlines of a green mist swirl along the walls, but when he blinked, it seemed more like fog.

Shaking his head, exhaling a breath to steel his nerves, John exited the truck to help Jacob rally their faithful together.

Another FC5 snippet for my You're Almost Like Family WIP where John is able to have a (somewhat) civil negotiation (after many failed and fatal attempts beforehand) with Silva at a gas station with neither having any weapons on hand to defend themselves against unknown stalkers with murderous intent... Enjoy reading below:

John straightened up as soon as he saw her silhouette approach closer, eventually watching the Deputy enter the gas station.

When she turns to him, his eyes instinctively checked her over. He's relieved the moment he saw no gun and no knife. No weapons means he said and done the right things this time, though he's not foolish enough to believe she trusts him... after all, she doesn't need weapons to end his life once again.

He gives her his biggest, most welcoming smile that he can. The Deputy responds by narrowing her grey eyes at him, clearly suspicious.

Alright, John thinks as he grits his teeth, We'll work on that.

"Ah, Deputy," he greets with wide arms, without his coat this time, showing that he too had honored the agreed conditions with his empty holster, "You don't know how glad I am to see you make it here."

The Deputy didn't immediately respond, instead observing and analyzing him. John's heart quickened in pace; being in close proximity of her didn't ease his nerves. He prayed that he didn't make the wrong move, say something that would mistakenly tip her off to some non-existent threat.

She was a skittish thing; easily on guard by the smallest movements, tense from the slightest change in tone, most likely to strike if she feels threatened. Even if John wanted to poke fun at her previous failed attempts to get here, he knew she didn't know about those cycles, so his phrasing just comes across as odd.

He almost exhales aloud the breath he was holding in when he sees the neutral stoic expression return. Not a scowl, not wide alarmed eyes and most definitely not a confident smirk before he sent him to suffer through another agonizingly long cycle.

She crosses her arms, her gaze focused on him as she curtly replied, "I'm here now. Spill or I leave."

Straightforward as always.

This next part had been something he'd been practicing for a while. Taking in account the previous attempts ultimately leading to failures, John had been extra cautious this cycle; he did everything he could to avoid her wrath, her distrust and a reason to immediately kill him.

He left the Ryes alone - hell, he even spared Rae-Rae and her mutt - he gave his men strict orders to not kill anyone they detained, even if some were traitors like Alex or resistant like Wendell, and left Fall's End just north of the gas station they were in alone after she reclaimed it once again. He refrained from... getting Deputy Hudson's confession, at least just yet. Nadi was sore about the disuse of the Revelator, but if she knew of what he was going through, he's sure she'd understand the necessity.

He allowed the Deputy to escape, twice. Gave her the tools to escape. He hoped this could at least spark an interest or a benefit of the doubt, at least to hear him out.

Her life depended on it. And his sanity too. Lord, he hopes they can work together to put an end to her untimely demises. At least to stop him from restarting back to the night of the arrest.

"Straight to the point then?" John questioned, one of many that he'd rehearsed throughout these botched attempts to talk with her. She gave an affirming nod, though this time without the irritation that broke through the stoic expression, but John didn't waste time to speak, "As you know Deputy, the Reaping has split us into those who believe in my brother's project and those who disagree with his vision."

The Deputy's brow furrowed, but John continued before she made a snide remark towards him and his family, "Yet through the gaps of this conflict, my best men and women have reported to me a string of strange behavior we believe originates from an unaffiliated and rogue party to our factions."

That wasn't exactly a lie; Sinclair and his faithful brothers and sisters had all, along with himself, witnessed Silva's demise to assassinations and sabotage from an unknown assailant... unlike him, they just don't remember the previous cycles.

Silva looked to him at the mention of "unaffiliated" and "rogue party", processing the information with scrutiny. As expected, she asked with a raised brow, "What makes you say that?"

"Well-" John said with a suave tone, attempting to lean on the kitchen counter, but misplaced his hand, unintentionally sliding a plate off the counter.

The plate's impact on the floor shattered it to pieces, resulting in a reverberating crash across the Golden Valley Gas station upon the dishware breaking.

The Deputy looked alarm, her arm reaching for her holster, though found no handle since it was thankfully empty. She relaxed, and stared at John with an incredulous expression for a short moment of silence.

John just covered his face and coughed to hide the embarrassment. Surely no one passing by would be able to hear that, right? It'd be quite inconvenient if the Deputy and himself were discovered together, not because they'd might mistake one or the other for working together, but because the Deputy would throw him under the bus, at the best and most hopeful scenario she'd just arrest him... though knowing her, she'd equally consider killing him to clear up any misunderstandings.

Not that such a thing had happened... yet.

He just hoped the chances of anyone walking or patrolling nearby was extremely low.

"Ahem," he faux coughed, hoping to get back on topic as he let go of leaning on the bench, "As I was saying- you see, your Resistance may not be aware of it yet, but there's been a low number of activity in murders towards members on both our sides; most that result in shells of a unique bullet that I know neither of our people use, capable of breaking through the human body with extreme ease."

Again, that was technically true; he's seen plenty of times when that bullet propels through the air and always creates an entry and an exit wound upon fatally hitting it's intended target- the Deputy.

Although the "murders on both sides" was a little speculative. John just assumed given the first time he witnessed the Deputy's demise, it was likely the assailant had been disguised as a Chosen, given Alexander seemed to have noticed them first. As for the Resistance... well, the assassin must have retrieved their disguise from somewhere during one messy attempt to recapture Fall's End.

Regardless, the Deputy appeared to be very attentive to his words, which was a good sign. It meant she either knew something or was believing him.

He's still standing uninterrupted, which is a testament in of itself.

"So... an unknown third-party is killing both of our members? If that's true... why are you bringing it to my attention? Why not protect your own and leave this boogeyman to come after the Resistance?" the Deputy questions, looking John up and down, trying to catch the slightest tic of deception.

John grins, and he finds a small vindication from the Deputy's huff of regret, especially from all the times she was snide with him, "That's because, my dear, I have reason to believe that you are this "boogeyman's" intended target."

Another WIP snippet for the Classroom of the Elite chapters of The UnTitled Stories collection. Or Ayanokōji recounts everything from Year 1 right up to the end of Year 2, How I Met Your Mother Ted Mosby style, the series:

"You're pitiful."

I had directed my gaze from my observations on our peers towards you; my sneering, obnoxious desk neighbor.

I remember raising a brow at you, with your poised shoulders and chest held up high with such assurance that I wondered if it was possible for you to lose balance and fall flat on your face.

A rather uncouth and petty fantasy, sure, but I stand by the fact it would have been well-deserved considering your attitude back then.

"Pitiful? How?" I had questioned you. I hadn't understood your comment, nor what prompted it.

You hadn't wasted a second when it came to mocking me, "'Oh, I want to eat with somebody', 'I wish someone would invite me to lunch'. Your thoughts are quite obvious. It's utterly pathetic."

I had observed as you unwrapped your grilled cheese sandwich, a delectable food, one I would have felt envious for.

You were always good at reading me. It left me baffled by just how many times you accurately discerned my intentions. I suppose it shouldn't have been a surprise that we'd flock to one another, despite how impossible it should have been...

Though as you know, I couldn't leave you to ridicule me without poking a jab in myself, "Aren't you also alone?"

My attempt to insult you back was ultimately nullified from your next immediate response, "That's true, but I for one prefer to be alone."

You easily bit into your grilled cheese sandwich just as you easily deflected my comebacks. Knowing further derisive comments would ultimately end in failure against you, I had accepted defeat with a soft exhale.

I peered towards our other classmates; watched at how most of the other girls flocked to either Hirata or Kushida, and noticed the absence of Sudō and the other boys.

I had hoped helping him out the day before would have sparked an interest from him, but I supposed my demeanor wasn't as approachable as I thought it was. I hoped he hadn't noticed my desperateness to gain a friend, considering how distant the girls are.

With nothing left to do for the lunch period, I had announced, for your ears only, "I'm going to hit up the cafeteria."

Once I had exited our homeroom, I had came to terms with the fact that I would likely spend most of my years here alone for the foreseeable future.

What I hadn't anticipated was one of our peers going out of her way to seek me out.

"Um... you're Ayanokōji-chan, right?"

I had stopped in my tracks to turn back around, to see the owner of that familiar voice.

...Yes, it was Kushida. The same girl with short beige-colored hair and gradient crimson eyes to compliment her well-endowed figure and shorter stature, especially in that uniform. You know, the school-approved shorter skirt one?

...Yes, those were observations I had made, it was the first time I'd actually met her face-to-face. The relevancy of these details shouldn't be the focus here.

Continuing on, I gave her my attention, and as one of the leading girls in our class, regarded her with respect as well.

"Yes, that's correct," I had answered her, and made her brighten further when I responded, "And you're... Kushida?"

She had seemed quite impressed that I had remembered her name at the time, I had been uncertain as to why though, but I could guess now that she was glad her reputation was spreading, especially within our class.

"I'm glad you remembered my name," she had told me with a overly cheerful smile, "I wasn't too sure if you paid attention during introductions, but thanks anyhow."

I had merely hummed in reply. I hadn't gotten used to being paid gratitude towards yet, so it was quite awkward for me at the time to receive it, especially for something so trivial.

Kushida's adorable expression shifted to something slightly nervous, her hands clasped together in front of her as she softly asked, "It wouldn't be much trouble if we talked for a sec?"

Her small and non-threatening demeanor hadn't alarmed me back then, even when it should have, so I gave her an affirmative nod as she led me down the hall a bit, away from our homeroom.

It was there where she revealed her intentions to me, "The reason I stopped you is because, well, I wanted to ask two very small questions."

I had nodded, letting her know to continue. I had a lot less stress that far back, so it left me free to pursue my growing curiosities.

"Well the first was if I could get your phone number?" she had asked, making me blink in momentary surprise before she elaborated, "I wanted to get it yesterday, but I had been preoccupied with everyone else that you managed to slip away before I could ask you, and I got the impression that you maybe wanted to be left alone as well."

It wasn't an illogical point of deduction, nor an incorrect assumption, considering how fast I wanted to leave, especially after how I blew my introduction. It was worse than Inogashira's, and her timidness managed to earn her encouragement whereas my awkwardness and social ineptitude cost me such sympathies.

I'm getting off-track. From there, I had answered with a resounding and hopefully excited, "Yeah, we can exchange phone numbers, I don't mind. What was your second question?"

Kushida's elated expression of victory toned down when she got to what I know she actually wanted to ask, "Well, Ayanokōji-chan, I wanted to know if you were on good terms with Horikita-san?"

I had tilted my head at the mention of you, almost glancing back to our homeroom to ascertain whether you were secretly close by, eavesdropping. But I dashed that ridiculous thought away, since I determined you weren't that kind of person at the time.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," I had informed her, where her shock broke through her expression, "I wouldn't go that far. We're barely acquaintances, really. Why do you ask?"

I was curious to know how our peers perceived the two of us; I thought it could have been vital knowledge to know, especially when weighing our interactions thus far.

All I received were a confirmation of misconceptions since the beginning of the school day, "Really? You two seemed really close, though. She never lets any of the other girls talk to her, and from what I've seen, you're the only one in our class- in the school, really- that she seems to ever talk to."

She looked away for a few seconds as she stated, "I thought that... maybe you would have the best insight on how to best approach her? She turned me down yesterday, and refused me earlier this morning. It's my goal here to be friends with everyone, especially in our class, but she doesn't seem to want friendship at all. But since she talks to you, I was hoping that maybe you could tell me what kind of personality she had, or if she was the type to share her mind only with close friends?"

I think I would have frowned in that moment, hearing how you flunked your chances to get familiar with the class, though I was a bit preoccupied with Kushida's cute pout. In spite of that though, even if I was still learning on who you were as a person during that time, I knew I couldn't give what I did know away, even if it was to Kushida.

So I had gone for the safest response, "I think that's just the kind of person she is. I can't really help much, I only met Horikita yesterday."

Kushida appeared to be disappointed upon hearing this, her shoulders slumped down. It was a strange moment for me, considering I didn't know if it was appropriate to console her over something that seems so small now.

However, there was a passion that had reignited in Kushida, one I would witness grow throughout our years here, as she grappled onto my hands and declared, "But I still need to be friends with Horikita in spite of all her refusals. No one deserves to live their entire school year alone. It's just not right."

She had looked up at me with pleading eyes, "Could you... maybe help me?"

Her extreme insistence to achieve your friendship should have tipped me off to her actual intent, but I'm sure you can understand why I overlooked this, given her convincing facade.

Admittedly, I too was desperate to gain the friendship of one of my fellow female peers, considering just how poorly my luck was going.

Even if she and I weren't really friends back then, I'd like to think that's where the spark began.

And finally a snippet for my "Kiyotaka Ayanokōji went to ANHS with Ichika Amasawa and Takuya Yagami at beginning of First Year" COTE AU in my What If? WIP. During the Mixed Training Camp exam, after a rendezvous with Karuizawa the day before that involved, ahem a promise~, Kiyotaka is subsequently harassed later the next day during lunch by his fiendish kohais who were hiding in the bushes to witness such a private moment, and they will not stop their relentless teasing. Witness below the average older sibling experience when the younger devils discover the existence of your unofficial and refused to be stated in all but name girlfriend, enjoy:

[Note: Bit rushed here, will edit in final product]

I wondered what was going on with them. They were staring at me with such intensity that it was disrupting my desire to finish breakfast.

Yagami, Amasawa and I were sat at the same table; not an unique sight, given what the classes believe our history to be.

They glanced to one another, then back to me. Yagami observed me with curiosity, hands clasped together resting under his chin, which isn't unusual, as he's done it multiple times over the course of the year.

But his behavior combined with Amasawa's intense staring at me while she rested her cheek against one hand with a big teasing grin on her face and those familiar devlish eyes?

"So, anything you want to share with us, senpai~?" Amasawa was the first to speak, leaning forward as her grin grew manic, and glancing to Yagami, I may have caught a small smirk from him.

Something was off. I wondered... was today the day they'd betray me? Had Yagami finally played his hand against me, made his move to overcome me? Would this be the day I would be expelled, unexpectedly and without anyway to prepare myself? While I was not against improvisation, nor did I appreciate not being informed that I was playing into this trap, I would be sufficiently pleased if I was undermined by a fellow pupil after so long being father's "masterpiece".

However, it turned out to be something so, so much worse.

"Share what?" I questioned cautiously, clueless.

Amasawa and Yagami shared another amused glance. I felt like I was in danger, like when Horikita brings out her compass kind of danger.

"Oh, don't play dumb with us senpai~... there's no point in hiding it," Amasawa pushed further, much to my own growing confusion.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about?" Really, I didn't know what this was in reference too.

"Oh, you know Ayanokōji-san," Yagami spoke up next, trying to goad me into revealing something I was still out of the loop of, "It something that pertains to the relationship of you... and a certain blond classmate of yours... does that ring any bells?"

...Were they referring to Kei? What would she have to do with anything?

"...I don't follow," I told them, considering they already know that Kei was an accomplice of mine, and yet they seem to be acting clueless of that fact.

The two devils made eye contact with each other, with Yagami giving an affirming nod as he and Amasawa did the worse thing possible.

Play into their dramatic antics.

"Oh Kiyo~, tell me, if I ended up in the same situation as Tachibana-senpai, would you save me?" Amasawa, most inaccurately, reiterated Kei's words with such overt exaggeration.

"Kei, I won't let you be expelled. I'd do whatever it takes," Yagami impersonation of me, although slightly less monotone and with subtler emotion, was uncannily close to perfect.

Never in my life did I feel I would be capable of feeling flabbergasted by what I was hearing. Their commotion got a few side-eyes our way, but no one seemed that invested.

These two giggling hyenas were quite troublesome.

"I thought we were being watched," I shook my head, "Where were you hiding?"

"The bushes," Amasawa answered, and looking to Yagami, I received a nod of confirmation.

"So how does my choice of words towards one of my accomplices have to do with my relationship with her?" I questioned, still lost on their reactions.

"Aw senpai~, don't be dense with us now," Amasawa stated, her teasing grin never slipping.

"Of course we've observed how you act towards most of your accomplices and allies," Yagami explained, "Horikita being a prime example. Your investment in her may have been confusing at first, but it was understandable; she's useful in ways the others may not be."

"Same with your "friend" group," Amasawa added, jerking her head over to a direction where I could distantly see Keisei, Airi, Akito and Haruka sitting nearby each other, "Most of them are useful to your personal goals and learning. Not necessary, but useful nonetheless."

"However, with them, you don't find it necessary to protect them, even if they have lower grades like Sakura-san," Yagami pointed out, "Horikita-san's already gained your confidence where you don't necessarily have to protect her, as she can do that herself, but you'll still watch out for her. But with someone like Karuizawa-san, whose grades are poor, usefulness decreasing now that Horikita's leading presence within the class is increasing, not to mention..."

Yagami leaned forward, a faux yet pleasant smirk clearer on his lips now, "You claimed to us that you had no need for her anymore months back, whether it's because her usefulness was at its end or you wanted a low profile notwithstanding... but when Ryūen took her instead of Amasawa and I as you initially believed? You dropped everything, had us drop everything to get her back."

Yagami leaned back, green eyes maintaining an air of assurance, "You've promised to protect her, from others and expulsion. I can guess you'll want to teach her to defend herself too, academically and physically. If I were to really stretch far enough, you're going to get rid of any threats to her well-being too."

"Admit it Ayanokoji-kun... you've gone soft for her," Yagami finally states. It was almost irritable, though I can't deny he had a point.

Learning these observations from these two was odd; being made aware to my behavior outside-perspectives usually involved being made privy to the fact I can't emote, like when Satō pointed out I apparently never smiled on our date, despite the fun things we did.

That was expected though. However, these two shared my history; raised in the same White Room, though with slightly different methods.

For them to take note of behavior unfamiliar and unusual would be something think on.

However, I couldn't tell whether they were being serious, jesting or determining an vulnerability to target, so I wasn't to sure how trustworthy their words were. Besides, I didn't feel anymore different towards Kei, so they had to be wrong. Yes, that had to be it.

"I'll need to return to my group for the next stage of the exam," I excused myself, grabbing my unfinished tray as I made my exit.

Yagami didn't make a comment as I set off, merely enjoying his tea, but Amasawa, true to herself, was set on causing trouble for me, "Be sure to say hi to your GIRLFRIEND for us, senpai~!"

That got the attention of most of the remaining students present for breakfast, and I made haste in my escape to avoid prying eyes connecting back to me.

Such troublesome kohais.

[iamumbra195]

I've been obsessing over Classroom of the Elite and recently the idea of crossover between CoTE and Spy x Family struck me.

This scenario would take place in an AU where Anya and the Eden kids are aged up to be the same age as Ayanokouji. Eden and the Advanced Nurturing High School (ANHS for short) are both incredibly competitive so combining the different aspects of the schools like the existence of Stella Stars, Tonitrus Bolts, Imperial scholars in Eden and class/private points and the student council in ANHS. In this scenario, the Imperial Scholar with the most Stella stars would become the student council president. Characters like the Horikita siblings, Nagumo Miyabe and others from CoTe would be interesting to explore in this kind of setting. The different halls/classes compete for the top just like in CoTE but perhaps a little less intense.

Moving on, let's say Ayanokouji was accepted into the school at the age of 16 through some intervention by the school's headmaster/chairman despite the fact that he typically wouldn't have been accepted. Anya thinks nothing of him at first but as time goes by, she begins to notice the contradictory nature of his thoughts. She discovers the existence of the White Room and is unpleasantly reminded of her own past and so, she decides to befriend him. Being raised by a spy and an assassin amid a cold war, she didn't mind the callous and rather Machiavellian nature of his thoughts. His schemes were fun to play along with, almost like she was six and trying to help her father's mission succeed all over again.

To Ayanokouji, Anya was a bit of an enigma. She wasn't the most academically intelligent but she was sociable and friendly, surrounded by teens with influential backgrounds like Becky Blackbell and Damian Desmond when she herself seemed rather ordinary. But at times he couldn't help but find her intuition and ability to read between the lines a little uncanny. She had a way with people that almost made it feel like she was reading his mind. Not that he minded, of course. It made her more useful to him.

Honestly, I just wanna see Ayanokouji hanging out with the Eden kids and I think this would be an interesting AU to explore.

[robotomyy]

aaaannnnd NARINDER for COTE !! For this AU he ended up needing to divide his / the Lamb's / the crown's power between the two earning him a collar with the eye. He deals with being haunted by his siblings , deeming him a traitor for joining the cult causing him to resent the Lamb for a while, though being mentally tied to the other doesn't make it easy to cope with it all, it resonates in anger and aggression living in the cult. He notices Rhivu is dealing with his own issues at first using it as leverage to harass him but he eventually comes around to being an ear.

IM BRAINSTORMING HEHEH

[randomnameless]

Bonjour ! Aussi pour les UA de Mercie et la Cheffe Suprême qui sont de lointains parents, ça pourrait aussi être que l'ancêtre de Mercie était la soeur / frère de Willy mais, qui aurait rejoint Némésis pour une raison x ? (Rhéa était une mauvaise influence capillaire pour Willy qui a commencé à porter des mulets)

Lycaon finit par glisser sur un couteau dans les escaliers qui lui rentre dans la poitrine par hasard, à chaque marche et passe par la fenêtre par accident avant de faire quoi que ce soit avec l'autre moitié de la famille, puis Hildegard I le saurait plus ou moins mais, ne les auraient pas éliminés malgré les repas de famille pourries car, elle savait que l'emblème de Seiros n'apparaitrait pas (et avait d'autres chats à fouetter avec Aegir ?) mais, Ionius n'aimait pas que d'autres personnes avaient les yeux violets alors, il a dégagé toute la famille ?

Haha, Cheffe Suprême ça fait très sectaire quand on y pense!

Rhea est toujours une mauvaise influence dès qu'on parle de cheveux, je suis sûre que c'est elle qui a insisté pour se teindre les cheveux, et a embarqué Seteth et Flayn dans cette masquarade, même si je tire mon chapeau pour Seteth, ça doit être compliqué de se teindre la barbe...

(Par contre leur teinture est mieux réussie que celle de Rhea, mais en regardant le désastre qu'est son portrait d'unité dans 3 Nopes, c'est pas bien compliqué de faire mieux qu'elle!)

Tu veux dire et si Lamine (ou son beau-fils/belle-fille?) était un membre de la famille Hresvelg? Rhea mentionne dans Nopes que Willy était un noble d'Enbarr avant de devenir Empereur (ou alors, contre-uno : Willy ferait partie de la famille de Lamine, et aurait atterrit à Enbarr pour une raison quelconque, puis aurait ensuite été adopté par des patriciens locaux?)

Hildegarde 1, très très tristoune après l'accident des 23 marches de son... grand-oncle?, aurait, peut-être, en effet, laissé les autres gus du nord tranquille si elle savait qu'ils ne seraient jamais des rivaux sérieux pour le trône de Willy puisque ne pouvant pas avoir d'emblèmes de Seiros - même si je trouve ça étrange qu'avoir un Emblème ce soit devenu la condition pour être Empereur ?

Ou alors, Derick von Aegir, qui a vu Hildegarde utiliser un oignon pour apparaître très très tristoune lors des funérailles de Lycaon, l'a menacée de raconter tout aux autres nobles du royaume, voire même à Willy, et a pu obtenir son duel pour gagner le trône tout en évitant les escaliers - et Hildegarde, se disant que quand même, pour éviter un prochain accident de la part de ses cousins, a essayé de monter un récit justifiant son ascension au trône -> Lycaon devait devenir Empereur parce qu'il était l'héritier l'un des héritiers de Wilhelm et de Seiros, il est mort d'une maladie l'ayant déséquilibré et entrainé sa chute dans les escaliers, mais dans ses derniers moments, son petit demi grand-oncle adoré lui a dit qu'il voulait qu'elle lui succède. C'est totalement vrai, demandez à son Vestra!

Mais pour éviter une future incertitude pour l'avenir de l'Empire, Hildegarde, après avoir écrasé Derick, annonce au monde (les gens importants hein, donc Enbarr) que dorénavant, le futur Empereur sera l'aîné de ses héritiers - évidemment avec un emblème de Seiros pour bien montrer que oui oui oui, les membres de cette lignée descend bien de Seiros et Willy (même si leurs oreilles sont rondes, mais ça, ça va aussi être éludé parce que quand même, vous imaginez prétendre descendre d'une chose inhumaine? De toutes façons, qui savait que Lycaon avait des oreilles pointues? Et comme Seiros a récupéré ses restes, personne ne le saura jamais, étant donné que les "agents pathogènes" qui ont mené à la chute de la créature dans l'escalier ont eux aussi, eu divers accidents :( ).

Plusieurs années passent, et Ionius qui a peur de ne pas avoir d'enfants avec emblème (son premier bâtard n'a pas d'emblème, et celui de Hans 2, l'héritier de son épouse légitime, n'est qu'un emblème mineur! Et puis Hans 2 a besoin de lunettes, la honte!) voit d'un mauvais œil ces "cousins lointains" qui peuvent lui voler le trône, si jamais Hans 2 meurt (apparemment les escaliers sont maudits? C'est une vieille légende familiale!) et qu'aucun de ses enfants n'a d'emblème de Seiros (une de ses concubines lui a donné un gosse avec un emblème de Cethleann! Il a voulu la répudier, mais sa famille a fait de gros yeux et Vestra lui a dit que ce n'était pas faisable!), ces "cousins" qui se sont mélangés à des sauvages du Nord quand même! (oui, la généalogie complète de la lignée Hresvelg s'est perdue en route) ne vont pas s'asseoir sur son trône si le critère "possession d'un Emblème de Seiros" tombe et que seul celui de "descend de Willy" compte!

(Et puis il n'aime pas, de toutes façons, cette idée d'avoir un emblème en commun avec l'autre chose là-bas, de Garreg Mach, ça a quand même autorisé la création du Royaume des Barbares, au détriment de l'Empire! Un nouveau conseiller, Chilon?, lui a dit que c'était possible de changer d'emblème et d'en avoir un plus puissant? C'est une possibilité à étudier plus tard.)

Bref, l'idée, c'est de démolir la famille qui a accueilli la femme du nord, et de la remarier avec un noble bien bouseux (les Bartels descendent d'un équarisseur qui a été anobli du temps de son arrière grand-père pour avoir éventré un sauvage de Brigid au colisée avec une fourche!), comme ça si jamais il y a un gamin aux yeux mauves, il descendra d'un bouseux, et ne sera jamais une menace pour sa dynastie.

Dedel se souvient juste que pôpa lui avait dit que les Bartels c'était de la vermine, alors quand Emile en fait de la chair à pâté, c'est tant mieux, mais bon, il faudrait pas non plus qu'il devienne important, alors on lui donne une armure et on lui fait faire le sale boulot, comme son arrière-arrière grand père, d'équarisseur.

---

Dans un UA où tout le monde survit, avec des largesses temporelles, les repas de famille c'est Willy avec ses cousins Lamine/Martritz, les enfants de ses premières conquêtes et ses frères et soeurs, Seiros/Rhea, Lycaon et les Nabatéens.

Les Nabatéens sont un peu froids avec Lamine et les Martritz parce qu'apparemment il y aurait eu du mauvais sang entre l'un des leurs et Lamine elle-même, les humains Hresvelgs sont en froid avec les Nabatéens parce que Willy ne vit pas avec eux parce qu'il préfère Seiros et c'est de sa faute à elle de toutes façons (Rhea caca!) qui manipule le pauvre Tonton/Père Willy et elle va lui prendre tout son argent (qui leur revient à eux!) et leur gamin va hériter de son poste super important de je ne sais quoi, mais c'est super important - mais les Hresvelgs n'aiment pas les Lamine/Martitz non plus parce que ce sont des "pouilleux".

Willy essaie de faire en sorte que tout le monde s'entend, Rhea de même (sauf avec la cousine/soeur de Willy Lamine), mais un drame survient quand Dedel, la nièce de Willy, pousse "accidentellement" Lycaon qui fait une chute de tricycle. Sa tante Hildegarde affirme qu'il est tombé tout seul, et "l'enquête" ne va pas plus loin, mais Lycaon refuse de jouer avec sa cousine Dedel et préfère jouer avec son autre cousine Cethleann.

[grandmaraboutorogan]

valise magique sans conséquence,sans dangers du Grand Marabout Parfait (00 229) 91 32 34 ,la vrai valise sans dangers et sans conséquence,payer sa valise chez le Grand Marabout HONNETE OROGAN...

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[ivalice-tifalucis]

WHAAT!!!!!

SEND HELP FOR I CANNOT BREATHE

THIS IS NOT A DRILL

[readingloveswounds]

denis i would LOVE for you to explain why you don't see any symbolism in throwing people down the well when it's protestants doing the tossing.

[sofiaemily92]

Examen des Gouttes Prostalife: Tout Sur Les Gouttes Naturelles Qui Stimulent La Libido Et La Santé De la Prostate

Prostalife est la solution ultime pour tous ceux qui cherchent à améliorer la santé de leur prostate et à améliorer naturellement leur libido. Prostalife Gouttes Revue est bonne. Avec les gouttes Prostalife, nous avons soigneusement élaboré une formule puissante utilisant une combinaison brevetée d'herbes, de vitamines et de minéraux qui agissent en synergie pour rééquilibrer votre corps. Prostalife à quoi ça sert ? Notre complément alimentaire entièrement naturel convient aux personnes de tous âges, offrant une approche holistique de la santé de la prostate et du bien-être général. Prostalife gouttes prix au Burkina Faso, en Côte d'Ivoire et au Sénégal, Prostalife Gouttes est raisonnable.Découvrez les avantages remarquables de Prostalife et reprenez le contrôle de votre vitalité et de votre confiance.

[monlivrepratique]

Pronostic foot. Comment GAGNER avec des COTES

[simplegenius042]

Late WIP Wednesday & Six Sentence Paragraph Friday

Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton @cassietrn @cloudofbutterflies92 @direwombat @voidika @nightbloodbix @aceghosts and @adelaidedrubman

Tagging @strangefable @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @minilev @g0dspeeed @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @corvosattano @carlosoliveiraa @titiagls @derelictheretic @afarcryfrommymain @megraen @shallow-gravy @onehornedbeast @softtidesworld @snake-in-the-garden @wrathfulrook @shellibisshe @chazz-anova @purplehairsecretlair @florbelles @inafieldofdaisies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @skoll-sun-eater @starsandskies @vampireninjabunnies-blog @yokobai and @thewanderer-000 + anyone else who wants to join in. Here's the taglist.

Three WIPs for Far Cry The Silver Chronicles, A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore and six sentences paragraphs for a little Classroom Of The Elite AU fic not related to any of my series as of now (though I do have a separate fic in the making for The UnTitledverse). You'll find these under the cut:

Here's a WIP prologue for The True Sinners, where Joseph, per the Voice's orders, seeks out the Tarot Card Holder to tell him of his family's fate in a clearer form than the Voice can give as well as the identity of the Muse. The Voice had only given Joseph one warning; to take the Tarot Card Holder's words with a grain of salt, though his Tarot's knowledge is indispensable for their... newest wrench in the plan, the Holder himself should be considered untrustworthy and far beyond the human he had once been. Enjoy Joseph trying to keep his cool as the newest dickhead in the series, the Tarot Card Holder, tries to strike our favorite prophet's nerves down below:

The humming continued on as the Holder seemingly glided along the wooden planks from inside his stand. Joseph could not see his legs from underneath the extensive robes he wore, and watched in silence as the Holder, with his disproportionate size, did not disturb the various items he skimmed past in his little shop.

Hooded back turned to his customer as he rummaged through his piles of oddments, Joseph cleared his throat, proceeding with the matters he wished to discuss, "I've come here to seek your help, actually."

He received no response or reaction from the Holder, who ceased his humming in favor of grumbling, callously picking items up and throwing them away.

Seeing that didn't get the Holder's attention, Joseph continued, "It's of the upmost importance. The Lord had guided me here to help me understand what it is I'm not seeing in my visions. The old world is on the brink of a great Collapse that will-."

The Holder piqued up at that, stopped rummaging through his messy mound of junk. His hooded head slightly turned towards Joseph, indicating his attention had been reached, and his deep voice rumbled out, "A Collapse you say?"

Joseph let out a breath, briefly smiled to himself as he proceeded to explain, "Yes. I have seen visions of a Collapse that will end the current world and-"

"-And bring forth a new one, wipe the slate clean, etcetera, etcetera," the Holder interrupted, tone radiating mild annoyance as his hand motioned with haste, "I know what a Collapse is. I'm just confused on why that sadistic prick of all mechanisms wants a last resort of horrifying proportions like that to come this early in such peace."

Joseph blinked, brows furrowed as he sets his aviators back up. He watched the as the Holder's robed arm returned to dig around once more. The Holder stopped his movements, tugged at the object he found, and yanked it out of its little hidey hole.

Finally turning to Joseph as the stacks of trinkets collapsed and collided into clatters behind him, the Holder paid it no mind as he approached the front of the stand to see Joseph, face-to-face.

Or rather mask-to-face, considering the Holder's porcelain disguise.

The Holder leaned over the counter with one arm, and even without the stool Joseph sat on, or the size of the stand giving its owner an extra foot in height, he understood that the robed clairvoyant would still be two feet taller than him.

Joseph felt slightly intimidated being looked down upon by such a huge person, especially with all the Lord had said of this person. And yet, Joseph still held onto his faith. As long as he had faith, he would be safe from whatever vile temptations this man had.

"Whatever peace you may think is occurring isn't set to last for long," Joseph insisted, "And the Lord had guided me here. In His own humble admittance, in his own infinite wisdom-"

The Tarot Card Holder snorted with a shake of his head, "More like desperation."

Joseph breathed in a calming patter, just as his beloved had once taught him, "I am here seeking your help to know the fate of my family. A fate that he himself cannot foresee anymore."

The Holder hummed, resting his chin on his gloved palms, the triangular hood holding up like a strong tent, undisturbed by the motion, "And so it sent you to me of all creatures. You both must truly be desperate to get a win for once, huh?"

Joseph face crinkled as he eyed the Tarot Card Holder with weariness. A "win"? What is he talking about? Is this the deceit the Lord had warned me of?

"I don't know what you mean..."

The Holder's eyes, barely seen through his mask, bore down on Joseph. Letting out a huff of air, the Holder explained.

"I figured," he started, "But I must ask, how well do you know of the Muse chosen to take the role of "Hell"?"

Joseph did not comment on the words the Holder spewed out of his forked-tongue as the Voice had instructed, but he did close his eyes in thought, remembering the words and visions the Voice had shared with the Father. The fire. The Garden. Himself. And the ever-shifting future of his siblings, their life and their deaths. That was not the reason to why the Voice tasked him with seeking out the demeaning figure of the Holder.

No, he recalled, it had been the inconstant shape of Hell's figure which led God to push me towards this very stand. He remembered how volatile Hell's setting, form, and voice was within those visions.

"Nothing at all," Joseph admitted conclusively.

"I see," the Holder noted as he tilted his head, the mask betraying no emotion, revealing no humanity, "And yet you said you were here to know of the fate of your family. You do know the knowledge of someone's identity and the fate of loved ones don't exactly coincide correctly, right?"

As the Holder placed his hand from his chin to the counter, Joseph gawked in surprise as the Holder stood taller from within his stand, adding an extra foot in height than what Joseph initially believed. However, this stupor was momentary, as Joseph hunched forward, hands clasped together as he placed them on the counter, his rosary stuck between them.

"I am here to know the fate of my family and the identity of this "muse", this Hell who haunts my mind," Joseph elaborates, neck aching at having to look up so high at the broader figure, "I was under the impression you could provide me both."

The Holder chuckled, shaking his head as if he was admonishing a child, "You neglect the cost of such knowledge. If you've come seeking the Tarot's help free of charge, then I'll be the first to gleefully tell you that you can't have both. Pick one or the other, and hand over whatever possession you have on your person to complete this exchange."

The Holder glances from Joseph's face, which scrutinized the Holder, to his rosary to roaming around the rest of his body.

"Unless... you have another possession to offer alongside the one in your hands?"

Joseph caught on, glancing to the rosary in his hands, gripping it until his hands drained pale.

He avoided the Holder's eyes, and the larger of the two softly hummed, whether in understanding or waning patience of the exchange Joseph couldn't bring himself to focus. The Lord never mentioned this...

"It didn't tell you, did it?" The Holder deduced, chuckling, "Ah yes, such exchanges as these require you to offer something of equal value in return. Often time a gift from a loved one, regardless if they reside in the mortal realm... or have already departed."

Joseph brushed the ornament of the cross, the beads digging into the palms of his hands as he held on to it, like he was holding her hand again.

She always had faith. And she shared that faith with me, giving me back something I thought tainted and lost to the words and hands of Old Man Seed. Gifting me a piece of her, an immortalized memory, like the ink on my arm.

And he was expected to let it go?

"Why?" Joseph breathed out, voice so timid that he was surprised when the Tarot Card Holder scoffed in response.

"Why else?" his baritone voice drilled into Joseph's head, not so dissimilar from the Voice, yet this was more... cold indifference on the Holder's part. Irritation reeked out of his words, an annoyance that has grown over time from spending the many years, perhaps decades, answering the same questions over and over again.

In the Holder's eyes, Joseph was no different from any other person seeking out the Tarots' wisdom.

Taking Joseph's silence as lacking an answer himself, the Holder explained further, "A possession that was a gift from another is far more valuable to the individual than it would be if they got something for themselves. The level of care one must put in to preserve such gifts, makes it harder to let go."

The Tarot Card Holder's broad shadow encompassed Joseph's body, the shorter man hesitantly looking up to find the Holder had leaned closer to his face. And in the empty chasms of the masks sockets, Joseph spotted the dim glow of inhuman gold irises glowering into his pleading blue.

"So, Prophet. Are you willing to give up her rosary for the sake of your family? Or will you give it up for a stranger's face and name?"

Here's a WIP for The Waters Of Life Flow, my Fallout 3 fic in the A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore series. Imagine wanting to find your dad with your best friend but some strange, blindfolded woman hijacks that plan to get you to show her around the Wasteland that you've only set foot on (and can't back out under what may have been a threat of "consequences"... however vague that can be considered a threat). This is still in its early stages of development. Anyway, Alph and Amata walk Marissa "Ress" Bishop to Megaton as seen below:

The heat of the sun simmered down on the trio as two begrudgingly walked in front of one, a situation more likened to a warden keeping watch of her wards rather than two "locals" giving the "newcomer" a tour as their unofficially branded captor insisted.

Alph glanced to Amata, his best friend taking the heat outside the air-conditioned vault as well as he is. He could guess that her jumpsuit was itching against her skin as badly as his own was, the material clinging too close for comfort, the blue clothes damp from sweat.

He chanced a look back to the woman behind them, the glaze of her long platinum blonde hair shining with an ethereal beauty, almost like how he envisioned angels would have from Dad's descriptions.

However, Alph wasn't foolish enough to neglect the memory that this woman was anything but angelic. He saw how she killed those crazed people at the school. While not ungrateful for saving them, forcing both him and Amata to walk her around the area with his old, yet still functional, Pip-Boy was a different story entirely.

Especially since there is practically nothing noteworthy marked on my map, but she wouldn't know that.

Which was true, the two maps on his Pip-Boy only showed the markers that indicated the only Pip-Boy wearers in the vicinity, and the trails had made. The surrounding area around his marker was dark on the map.

Amata helped him mark down the coordinates of their Vault and he had the foresight to mark down the location of both the school and what had once been a neighborhood.

And now we're on our way to "Megaton"... or at least where I hope it is.

Alph snapped out of his thoughts when he heard a curious hum. His focus returned, and he realized that the woman had noticed his gawking, in spite of the fact she was still wearing a blindfold.

When she gave him what he assumed to be a friendly grin, he couldn't help but remember the manic one she wore when she slaughtered their captors. Freaked out by the bloody image, he turned his eyesight straight ahead, focused on maneuvering around the boulders in scattered around them rather than the woman behind them.

He heard her snort behind them, and Amata turned her head slightly to look back at the woman, but paused in the action, and shook her head as she kept forward.

Her face was flushed, dark skin boiling under scorching sun. He wasn't any better, with his lighter skin turning an uncomfortable red. How in the actual fuck is the psycho behind us not dying in those clothes?

Though the better question would be to ask how her pale skin hadn't been burned to a crisp from the flamethrower that mohawk guy blasted at her earlier, but he chalked it up to just defective equipment... for now.

He heard Amata gasp beside him, grasping his arm as she pointed forward.

"I-I think this is it!" she stated aloud, relief and joy flowing out of the laugh she let out. Alph focused forward, really missing his glasses, but through his blurry vision, he could see a mass of metal welded together to form a gate. There was also a robot out the front of it, the corpse of a giant insect full of charred holes only a few feet away from it.

Alph smiled, checked his Pip-Boy, and saw that the predicted coordinates were a match. He almost let out a chuckle.

Until he felt the hand of that woman pat his shoulder, then he soon lost his smile.

"Good job you two," she congratulated them, arms slinging over both their necks, "I knew you'd make perfect guides. Now unless you don't mind burning in daylight, I suggest you get a move on. Capiche?"

And here's six paragraphs for a small Classroom Of The Elite AU fic I've been working on, a little "What If" canon divergent scenario I've come up with. Essentially it boils down to "What if Kiyotaka Ayanokoji was accompanied by Takuya Yagami and Ichika Amasawa to the Advanced Nurturing High School?" as a ploy orchestrated by Atsuomi Ayanokoji to see how the masterpiece can perfect the two fifth generation students to be equal to him and give these two a chance to help Ayanokoji adapt socially. I haven't ironed out the exact details of how this is done, but I mostly wanted to write a fic where Ayanokoji was like an older brother-like figure to both Amasawa and Yagami (...in his own way) and how this would fuck up the plot. Also, my man Yagami needs a win after being done so dirty in the source materials. I will be combining elements from the anime, manga and light novel because I'm insane like that (especially for Yagami and Amasawa). Anyway, here's the six-paragraph introduction:

The bus ride had been uneventful thus far. We passed by Cherry Blossoms and the dwindling city buildings of Tokyo, and as a vehicle of public transport, occasionally pulled up at stops to pick up further passengers; few were casual citizens, most were high-school students.

I fell under the latter; amongst the seated boys and girls wearing white shirts under red blazers with gold trims, though with definite differences in the uniform depending on the student's sex, was myself, standing with one hand on my backpack, the other on the straphanger above me. I involuntarily shook as the bus drove on the road to my new location.

I kept my idle gaze out the bus window, the flurry change of Tokyo's scenery from declining pink to the increase of concrete tempting me the chance to ponder on whether the sociopolitical status of Japan's society met the standards of equality, but I had held off on following that thought, especially with two eyes fleeting glances at me from the seats behind.

I found their staring difficult to ignore, more annoyingly so due to my keen awareness of the fact. I had wanted to remain inconspicuous, but their fidgeting would bring unwanted attention towards me, and on themselves, if they were too frequent. Perhaps not consciously, but subconsciously the rest of the students could become curious or worse, intrigued by my presence if the two continued their prolonged stares.

Though I couldn't exactly fault my kohais; regardless of how ridiculous the notion was, their observation of me was not unfounded. For Ichika Amasawa and Takuya Yagami, I was an enigma, a living legend in their generation. Not only a name, but a title, a successful set of data that they were expected to surpass in the curriculum.

I wasn't so concerned about Amasawa, as her apparent admiration of me likely outweighed any desire to do anything against me. Yagami though... despite his gentle demeanor, I suspected he was hiding his true thoughts of me underneath the surface.

Nothing I could do now; we were all on the same bus, heading into an unknown ocean of variables and outliers. A consequence of Matsuo's kindness upon taking care of the three of us, I suppose.

[camisoledadparis]

saga: Soumission & Domination 384

Fin de séjour aux USA

J'apprends le fin mot de la prestation spéciale par Ric et Jona. Côté tarif, effectivement mes Escorts n'ont pas été lésés.

Par les supérieurs de Jona, je suis avisé qu'ils ont donné aussi toute satisfaction. Ils me demandent de prioriser ce client auprès de mes deux escorts. Ils sont gentils mais c'est une entreprise commerciale que je gère ! Nous arrivons à un compromis où, si mes collaborateurs sont en contrat, ils prendront en charge le dédit, Quel que soit le montant.

Avant de quitter mes trois Navy-Seal, je les invites à venir en France. Ils seraient heureux de revoir Jona et François mais je sens un certain blocage. J'ajoute que quand j'invite, je prends en charge les frais inhérents aux déplacements et là ils sont totalement OK, Ils sont très curieux de voir ma " bande " de mecs à l'oeuvre au combat rapproché.

Pour le reste, mes nouveaux potes de Berkeley, j'organise une virée au grand Canyon avec descente en rafting d'une petite partie du Colorado. Nous remplissons deux gros rafts opposant les nageurs aux combattants. J'hésite, mais finis chez les nageurs. Bon choix puisque parmi eux s'en trouve deux qui ont déjà pratiqué ce sport. Nous finissons premier au campement intermédiaire, mais d'une très courte tête après plusieurs heures de course acharnée.

Deux autres rafts de même taille nous accompagnaient, Occupés l'un par une bande de potes Newyorkais, l'autre par des couples, qui, entre eux ne se connaissaient pas d'avance. Les Newyorkers ont essayés d'entrer dans notre compétition interne mais ont vite renoncé au vu de notre rivalité sportive.

Au campement, ils nous félicitent et on discute tous ensemble. Les couples un peu plus âgés que nous sont dans leur coin. Nous ne nous gênons pas pour nous chauffer entre nous alors que, les tentes montées, nous nous changeons pour la soirée. Si les couples continuent à vivre de leur côté, les gars de la cote Est se font prendre à partie.

Ok ils sont tous moins baraqués que nous, quoique certains puissent rivaliser quand même, mais la plupart pourraient bien finir entre nos cuisses, ils sont suffisamment mignons pour ça ! Ils ne mettent pas longtemps à nous découvrir tous gays puisque nos bisous sont réalisés en mode frenchkiss.

Ils ne sont pas choqués et je vois même certains regards qui s'appesantissent sur nos plastiques. Après nos bains de détente et propreté dans l'anse calme du Colorado, comme par hasard ils se fixent surtout sur celles modelées par nos maillots de bains (tous nous avions opté pour des boxers ou trunks bien moulants alors qu'eux étaient en short de surf).

Diner autour du feu de bois et premiers rapprochements entre les deux côtes américaines. J'ai repéré un des mecs, le plus jeune ou du moins physiquement il le parait. Dans les 1m75 musclé type coureur de fond plutôt que gymnaste, châtain clair, ses yeux légèrement en amande trahissent un métissage asiatique mais pas de première génération. Je fais avec lui mon " touriste Français ". Dan et moi discutons pas mal avec lui et deux de ses potes alors que mes amis ont intégré le reste de son groupe. Quand il est question de se coucher, j'observe un petit mélange des groupes (environ la moitié des Newyorkais se " trompe " de tentes).

Moi j'ai réussi à intéresser suffisamment ma proie pour qu'elle se laisse tenter par l'expérience. Au départ il est gêné qu'on ne soit pas tous les deux seuls. Mais les bruits que font nos colocataires l'excitent aussi et j'arrive à passer du simple frenchkiss à pareil mais avec les mains dans nos slips respectifs. Il bande dur ce petit salaud, dans les 18x4/5. Quand il prend mes 20x5, je le sens étonné. Je ne peux m'empêcher de lui glisser dans l'oreille qu'ils sont tous pour lui. Je le sens frissonner entre mes bras, peur ou désir ? Mes mains passent de sa queue à ses fesses. Tout petit cul rond. J'avais bien deviné que son longboard flottant cachait une merveille. Mes doigts glissent entre ses fesses et je titille sa rondelle. Il ne débande pas, bon signe. Ma bouche revient couvrir la sienne l'empêchant s'il l'avait désiré de protester contre cette intrusion. Lentement je lui masse la rondelle et parvient à enfoncer un majeur. J'étouffe son petit cri avec ma langue, il bande toujours. Moi aussi et j'ai vraiment envie de me le faire. Il le sent car il écarte sa bouche pour me dire qu'il est vierge. Je le rassure d'un " t'inquiète tu vas aimer ". À nos côté Dan est déjà dans un des nageurs de notre groupe et, bien que discrets tous les deux, nous entendons nettement les " trop bon ton cul " et les vas-y défonce moi " qui lui répondent. Je profite de notre différence de gabarit pour le retourner face contre notre matelas et dans le même mouvement plonger mon nez entre ses fesses afin de lui bouffer l'oignon.

C'est sûr, il ne connaissait pas cette pratique. Surpris, quand ma langue se pose sur le plissé délicat, il fond et je l'ai à ma merci. Je me place sur le dos, le bascule en 69 au-dessus de moi et continue ma préparation. Il a devant les yeux mes 20cm turgescents qui appellent sa bouche. Je ne le vois pas mais je sens son souffle se rapprocher de mon gland. Au bon moment, ma main posée sur sa nuque le pousse en avant et mon gland pénètre sa bouche. Reflexe, ses lèvres se referment dessus. Là, c'est lui qui me procure un frisson. Du coin de l'oeil j'aperçois Dans qui lui mime de me pomper. Je retourne à ma " préparation " et sens que mon petit puceau s'enhardi. Je ne parle pas de gorge profonde mais il met du coeur à l'ouvrage.      

J'arrive à lui mettre mes deux majeurs sans rejet de sa part. Ça me fait raidir encore plus, l'idée que bientôt je vais le défoncer.

Je le soulève à bout de bras, lui fais faire demi-tour et l'assois sur mes abdos. Mon gland se pose direct au bas de sa colonne vertébrale. Je l'attrape par le cou et approche son visage pour qu'on se roule un patin. Là, c'est sa langue qui cherche la mienne ! Discrètement je me kpote et pose mon gland contre sa rondelle en effectuant quelques rotations et levées de bassin. Mon gland lui travaille le sphincter et quand je le sens s'ouvrir, je lui glisse à l'oreille de gérer sa descente.

Il se redresse sur ses bras sans que ses yeux quittent les miens. Je sens doucement une bonne chaleur recouvrir mon sexe. Il recule vers mes cuisses jusqu'à ce que ses petites fesses les collent (mes cuisses !).  Pour un puceau il en voulait le petit !! Il reste sans bouger le temps de s'habituer à l'envahissement de son petit cul. Je roule du bassin pour lui signifier de mettre un peu de mouvement entre nous. Il me chevauche comme un bon petit cavalier, au pas puis avec un petit trot soutenu, il rode sa rondelle vierge sur mes 20cm d'acier. Je devine dans la pénombre ses yeux fermés. A l'écoute de son corps, je le vois sourire. Moi j'adore sa rondelle ferme. De temps en temps une crispation vient m'étrangler la queue, entrainant un brusque arrêt de la défonce, mais ajoutant encore aux sensations perçues des deux côtés.

Dan et son partenaire (un autre copain de Berkeley) nous rejoignent et s'occupent de mon petit Newyorkais. Sollicité par nos trois bouches, occupé par ma queue et en contact avec celles de mes deux potes, le petit jeune ne sait plus où il habite et il se prend un pied d'enfer. Je reçois de son sperme jusque dans les cheveux. Mes deux collègues giclant les leurs sur mon " étui pénien " qui, hyper contracté, provoque ma propre jouissance. Ils retournent sur leur matelas alors que je garde mon partenaire sur moi. Ma queue sort avant de complètement débander et je récupère discrètement ma kpote pleine. Il s'endort sur moi et je m'endors à mon tour.

Au matin je suis toujours son matelas ! Ma queue se réveille mais j'entends les bruits du campement, pas le temps ! Je m'étire et ce faisant réveille mon petit américain.

Il réalise soudain qu'il a passé la nuit sur moi. Rires dans la tente quand il sursaute, glisse de moi et s'excuse de tomber sur Dan. Je lui fais un petit bisou sur les lèvres et une tape sur les fesses. Nous sautons dans nos maillots de bain et course jusqu'au Colorado où un bain nous permet de perdre les effluves de la nuit passée. Je m'aperçois qu'on est pas les seuls. Mon petit mec se fait charrier par ses potes. Mais il a du répondant et les rires sont bon-enfant.

Petit déjeuner substantiel et on attaque la seconde partie de notre petit raid. Là, c'est l'embarcation des adeptes des sports de combat qui gagne. Ils ont pu profiter d'une erreur tactique qui nous a fait perdre la tête que nous avions depuis le départ.

Je profite du retour à la base en car pour récupérer les coordonnées de mon partenaire de la nuit et m'organiser une pause à New York pendant mon voyage de retour.

Départ de San Francisco :

Un peu plus de 6 mois en immersion totale, ça forge des amitiés. Tous mes nouveaux potes nageurs comme combattants ont mes coordonnées et savent qu'ils peuvent passer me voir en France.

Bien évidemment c'est encore plus le cas pour Tyler et Dan. En ce qui concerne Duke (le petit frère de Dan été grand ami de ma triplette), je lui confirme une invitation permanente à venir en France retrouver son trio d'amis. Que ce soit pour les vacances ou même un grand WE, il sait que ma porte lui est grande ouverte.

Grandes embrassades à l'aéroport d'où je pars pour New York. Je ne connais pas la ville et en plus Bobby m'a promis de me faire visiter rapidement.

A LaGuardia il m'attend. Je lui roule un patin.

De New York je ne connaitrais finalement que l'intérieur de son appartement où j'aurais passé deux jours à le baiser par tous les trous et dans toutes les positions que je connaisse. J'ai retrouvé ce petit cul rond et blanc d'absence de soleil et surtout la rondelle qu'il cache en son centre et qui attire ma queue sans arrêt ! Les trois pièces de son appartement, sa cuisine et sa salle de bain, la table basse et le canapé du salon, le plan de travail de la cuisine et celui du lavabo, la douche aussi où je l'ai encore enculé alors qu'on retirait sous les jets d'eau de la colonne de jets le sperme collé de notre dernière baise, je crois bien qu'à part la cuvette des toilettes, tout ce qui pouvait soutenir un corps a été utilisé.

Nous nous sommes même fait le jeune livreur de Pizza, un latino basané monté comme un âne, qu'il n'a pas fallu beaucoup poussé quand on lui a ouvert quasiment nus. C'est peut-être aussi parce que pendant que bobby le faisait entrer, j'étais collé à son cul et que je lui léchais l'oreille ! Je me souviens lui avoir proposé le petit cul de mon hôte comme pourboire supplémentaire, argumentant du fait que c'était une bonne chaudasse et que malgré mes grandes capacités je n'arrivais pas à le rassasier.

Quand son chino est tombé à ses pieds, on a pu voir une vraie grosse barre déformer son boxer. Bobby s'est jeté à ses genoux et directement lui a arraché ce dernier rempart. Dans le même mouvement il a embouché le gland le faisant glisser jusque dans sa gorge, compétence que j'avais réussie à lui inculquer récemment. Il s'est quand même étranglé, le livreur étant plus puissamment équipé que moi.

Alors qu'il se faisait pomper, il a téléphoné pour prévenir qu'il serait indisponible aux livraisons pendant quelques heures. J'ai aimé cette réorganisation de son emploi du temps.

Il est resté 2h30 avec nous. Kpoté il m'a aidé à rassasier le cul de Bobby, plus petit que nous mais plus costaud que Bobby, il s'est permis lui aussi des portés et des positions de sodo musclées. Bobby s'est fait plaisir avec une dans le cul et une dans la gorge, mais nous n'avons pu aller jusqu'à la double sodo. Malgré son envie, il n'avait pas rebaiser avec un mec depuis son dépucelage sur les rives du Colorado. Je crois bien qu'avant de partir, le latino lui a laissé son n° de portable. Pour qu'il n'ait pas à pâtir de son interruption dans sa journée de travail, je lui ai glissé dans les 200$ dans sa poche de Jeans.   

Bobby me raccompagne à l'aéroport, cette fois JFK et retour en France.

Jardinier

~~

~~

Southern California

[robotomyy]

HERE HE IS!!!!!!!!!!! My AUs gonna be called,,,,,,, Children of the Ewe !! lol

Its gonna be about Rhivu dealing with the constant dreams he has about his past life while having to run his cult + deal with sharing powers with Narinder (specifically being able to read each others minds) Most of the followers are clueless to the shared powers amongst the two aside from a smaller crown upon returning. Narinder's crown presents itself as a black collar w/ the red eye as to hide it. (his design will be drawn soon) They tease each other a lot but Lamb knows how to push Narinder's buttons either by accident or on purpose to get a reaction from him. FEEL FREE TO ASK ABOUT HIM!!! OR THE AU :3

[sseltzerr]

COTE AU where Kiyotaka end up back in the WR after making a deal with Tsukishiro ^^ I'll be posting an in depth explanation later on, but for now thats what you need. I originally had a different idea that spanned the whole song, but I don't have the time or energy for that, so here you go. I hope the three COTE fans enjoy this <3

[shurikenfan99]

Shuri AU

PLEASE TELL ME IM NOT THE ONLY ONE WHOSE THOUGHT OF THIS An AU where shuriken accepts Brokers offer, to uh be the churches theif. I need to know if any fics have been made on this, lord knows i'd make one but I don't have the time. Might- MAYBE, make a design for The Church of the TRUE EYE Shuri, i'd love to see other people make COTE designs for other phighters (unless thats already done and I'm late to the party)

[maitre-gotta]

Rituel magique pour gagner au loto et au 1xbet, le plus grand maitre marabout

Rituel magique pour gagner au loto et au 1xbet Rituel magique pour gagner au loto et au 1xbet, Vous avez toujours rêvé de gagner au loto et de devenir millionnaire du jour au lendemain ? Ne cherchez plus, car vous êtes au bon endroit ! Dans cet article, je vais vous révéler le rituel magique qui vous permettra de mettre toutes les chances de votre côté pour remporter le gros lot au loto et au…

[chic-a-gigot]

L'Art et la mode, no. 2, vol. 19, 8 janvier 1898, Paris. Pour la cote d'azur. Dessin de Nada. Bibliothèque nationale de France

Toilette de bal, en mousseline de soie "Parme". Larges bandes de Venise; liens de velours "violette" sur l'épaule gauche.

Prom dress, in "Parma" chiffon. Wide Venetian bands; "violet" velvet ties on the left shoulder.

—

Double jupe en cachemire-drap blanc. Veste "Footit" en serge bleue très claire: boutons de nacre; cravate de dentelle avec choux de panne "orange".

Double skirt in white cashmere-cloth. "Footit" jacket in very light blue serge: mother-of-pearl buttons; lace tie with "orange" panne cabbages.

—

Costume en crépon "améthyste" de forme cuirasse: pattes de drap blanc; cabochons d'améthyste comme boutons. Renard noir.

"Amethyst" crepe suit in the form of a breastplate: white cloth tabs; amethyst cabochons as buttons. Black fox.

—

Toilette de bal, en satin or brodé de paillettes et de gouttes d'eau cristal. Volant et jupe en mousseline de soie blanche sur rose. Orchidées au corsage.

Prom dress, in gold satin embroidered with sequins and crystal water drops. Ruffle and skirt in white silk chiffon on pink. Orchids on the bodice.

—

Toilette en tulle noir brodé; rubans de satin bleu "ciel" courant sur toute la robe.

Black embroidered tulle dress; sky blue satin ribbons running all over the dress.

—

Corsage de réception, en panne orange entièrement garnie de dentelle Cluny. Plastron plissé en mousseline de soie blanche.

Reception bodice, in orange panne entirely trimmed with Cluny lace. Pleated bib in white silk muslin.