#i hope you like it!! i had entirely too much fun with it

[secretmaniacc]

FILL THE VOID

Pairings: the salesman x Fem!oc

Summary: After avoiding him for two days, she finds herself pinned down as he insists they go out to dinner, just as he promised in their bet. Reluctantly agreeing, she anticipates an elegant evening, but the night quickly takes an exciting and dangerous turn.

Warnings: slow burn, language, violence, Dom!salesman x baddie!oc, teasing, degrading, kissing, gun play, Russian roulette, knife play, semi public sex, hair pulling, mentions of blood, oral sex, male recieving, p in v, rough sex, spanking.

Wc: 6.2k

A/n: so sorry for the wait here’s pt.2 for “ride or die” since some of y’all liked it and I’m very happy for that, did some justice this time and spiced it up they can be out of character sometime so forgive me, hope y’all will enjoy it really worked hard on this one, not proofread <3

For two days, she’d managed to avoid him—strategically timing her office hours to when he wasn’t there, ignoring his messages, and pretending not to notice the way he seemed to linger just out of reach. But deep down, she knew it was only a matter of time before he caught up with her. 

That time came at the end of a long day when she thought she was safe. She gathered her things and prepared to turn around and head towards the door, only to feel a familiar presence.

“Thought you could avoid me forever?” His voice was low, smooth, and infuriatingly smug. 

Her hand tightened on the strap of her bag as she turned, schooling her features into something calm and unaffected. “I’m busy. Move.” 

He grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Busy ignoring me? Impressive effort, but I don’t take silence well.” 

“I’m not ignoring you,” she lied, stepping forward to brush past him. 

His arm shot out, blocking her path. “Really? Then why haven’t you answered my messages? Or were you too busy pondering about how much fun we had in the alley?” 

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” she shot back, her tone clipped as she tried to push past him again. 

But this time, he shifted, moving to block her entirely and locking the door with a quick twist of his wrist. The faint click of the lock sent a chill down her spine, though she refused to show it. 

“Let me go,” she said, keeping her voice steady even as she felt her pulse quicken. 

He leaned back against the door, his arms crossed lazily, as though he had all the time in the world. “Not until we settle something.” 

She arched a brow, masking her unease with irritation. “And what’s so important that you’re resorting to theatrics?” 

His grin widened, his gaze sparkling with that insufferable confidence. “I’m a man of my word. And I promised to take you to dinner, didn’t I? Unless, of course, you’d rather recall how I made you feel so good in the alley.” 

She blinked, caught off guard by the reminder. “That was two days ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.” 

“It matters to me.” He stepped closer, the teasing edge in his voice making her heart stutter. “You won, fair and square. So, dinner. Tonight.” 

“Not happening,” she said firmly, though the conviction in her voice wavered slightly. 

He tilted his head, studying her with mock curiosity. “Why so stubborn? Afraid you’ll enjoy it?” 

Her jaw tightened. “I’m just not interested.” 

“You’re lying.” 

She glared at him, determined not to let him see how her resolve faltered under the weight of his gaze. “You’re impossible.” 

“And you’re avoiding the truth,” he countered, stepping closer until there was barely a breath of space between them. “But that’s fine. Say no if you want—I’ll still show up outside your door.” 

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said, though the uncertainty in her voice made her doubt her own words. 

“Try me,” he challenged, his tone light but his intent clear. 

She sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly in defeat. “Fine. One dinner. But don’t make a habit of this.” 

His grin broadened, a glimmer of triumph lighting up his face. “Perfect. Wear something elegant—something that’ll fit the place. I expect you’ll be just as stunning as you were in the alley” 

“Excuse me?” 

He ignored her indignation, leaning in close enough for his breath to ghost against her cheek. His lips brushed lightly against her skin, leaving behind the faintest trace of warmth. “See you tonight,” he murmured before stepping aside and unlocking the door. 

She stared at him, momentarily thrown by the unexpected gesture. The smug look on his face only made her irritation flare, and she pushed past him with a sharp, “Don’t be late.” 

As she walked away, she tried to ignore the fluttering in her stomach, brushing it off as nothing more than irritation. But the faint smile tugging at her lips told a different story. 

-----

She stood before the full-length mirror, the soft glow of her bedroom light catching the gentle shimmer of her crimson dress. The bodice hugged her figure like it was made for her, the delicate cowl neckline draping gracefully across her collarbones, while the fabric flowed into a silky skirt that brushed the floor with every subtle movement. Her long, black hair fell in effortless curls to her waist, framing her face with a touch of timeless elegance. A sheer wrap rested loosely on her arms, adding a layer of ethereal softness that seemed to dance with every step. 

Her phone buzzed on the dresser, pulling her from her thoughts. She glanced down to see his text: "I’ll be there in five." Letting out a small breath, she grabbed her purse, gave herself one last look, and headed downstairs. 

The evening air was cool as she stepped outside, heels clicking softly against the pavement. There he was, leaning casually against a sleek black Audi A6, its polished exterior gleaming under the streetlights. He wore a tailored black suit that framed his tall, broad figure perfectly, paired with a crisp white shirt and a black tie that added a sharp elegance to his appearance. His dark hair was neatly styled, though a rebellious strand fell over his forehead, softening his otherwise sharp features. 

As she approached, his gaze locked on her, a flicker of admiration crossing his face before he straightened and stepped toward her. Without a word, he took her hand, lifting it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. 

“You look breathtaking,” he murmured, his voice smooth yet sincere, his eyes holding hers for just a moment longer than necessary. 

A faint blush warmed her cheeks, but she managed a small, teasing smile. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” 

His lips twitched into a smirk as he opened the passenger door for her, gesturing for her to step inside. 

She settled into the plush leather seat, the soft scent of new car and faint cologne filling the space. The interior was sleek, with polished silver accents and an impressive digital dashboard glowing faintly in the dim light. She trailed her fingers over the armrest, the comfort and luxury surprising her. 

“You own this?” she asked, glancing at him as he slipped into the driver’s seat, his hands confidently gripping the wheel. 

He chuckled softly. “Why? Did you think I’d show up in something less fitting?” 

She shook her head, amused but still impressed, as they drove in silence toward their destination.  He would make teasing comments here and there that earned a chuckle from her.

The car pulled up to one of the most elegant restaurants in town, its grand facade glowing with soft golden lights. Outside, a long line of patrons waited eagerly, some dressed to the nines, chatting in anticipation. 

Her brows lifted in surprise at the sight. “You didn’t mention this place,” she said, her voice laced with curiosity. 

Before he could respond, two security guards stepped forward, opening her door with practiced precision. One took the keys from him while the other escorted them toward the entrance. She noticed how the murmuring crowd shifted, heads turning as they walked past. 

The guards held the doors open as they entered, bowing slightly in his direction. She bowed back out of respect, but he merely did, wrapping his arm around her waist as they stepped into the opulent dining area. 

The restaurant was stunning. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over tables draped in crisp white linens. Floor-to-ceiling windows revealed a breathtaking view of the city skyline, and a soft melody from a grand piano filled the air with an elegant ambiance. 

They were guided to a private table near the window, the staff pulling out her chair as she sat. As he took his seat across from her, she leaned in slightly, her tone playful. 

“Care to explain why everyone is treating you like you’re some mafia boss?” 

He chuckled, resting his chin on his hand as he looked at her. “Let’s just say I know how to make an impression.” 

She rolled her eyes, but a smirk tugged at her lips. “Oh, I’m sure you do.” 

The waitress approached with a professional yet warm smile, handing them menus. “Welcome. May I offer you something to start with?” 

She glanced at the menu, the luxurious options catching her off guard. “Are there any prices on this thing, or do we just guess?” she quipped, arching an eyebrow at him. 

He laughed softly. “Don’t worry, dinner’s on me. Feel free to splurge.” 

She smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Good, because I was planning to order the most expensive thing just to annoy you.” 

“Be my guest,” he replied smoothly, his grin teasing. “But I hope you know that means dessert is non-negotiable.” 

her eyes scanning the intricate names of dishes written in french. Brows furrowed, she tilted the menu closer as if the words would magically make sense the second time around. 

“What is... uh, rat-a-tou-ille??” she sounded out slowly, glancing up at him with genuine curiosity. 

His lips curved into an amused smile. “Ratatouille. It’s a vegetable dish—stewed with tomatoes, zucchini, eggplant, and herbs. Simple but classic..” 

“Oh, okay. That doesn’t sound too bad,” she nodded before her eyes caught another word. “And this one? Coq... au vin??” 

“Coq au vin” he corrected with a small laugh. “Chicken braised in red wine with mushrooms and bacon. Very traditional.”.” 

She tapped her chin with her finger, pretending to consider it seriously, then moved on to another dish. “Bou-ya... bouillabaisse?” 

“Bouillabaisse,” he supplied smoothly. “.It’s a fish stew with a mix of seafood, Want me to keep translating, or are you planning to make me read the whole menu for you?” 

She shot him a playful glare. “Hey, these names are intimidating, okay? I didn’t grow up speaking fluent…. Uh, whatever this is."

“french” he said, unable to suppress the laugh that bubbled out. “I have to admit, though, this clueless act of yours is kind of adorable.”

She rolled her eyes, heat rising to her cheeks. “Whatever. I’ll just stick to this one.” She pointed to a dish she didn’t recognize but liked the sound of. 

When he glanced at his menu filled with prices unlike hers, his smirk grew wider. “Interesting choice,” he mused, leaning back in his chair. 

“What?” she asked suspiciously. 

“Nothing,” he said, clearly holding back a laugh. “Just that it’s the cheapest thing on the menu.” 

Her jaw dropped. “Are you serious?” 

He nodded, still grinning. “Repick. Or I’ll do it for you.” 

She groaned, flipping through the menu again. “Fine. You pick.” 

He didn’t even look at her menu, already knowing it by heart. “Filet de boeuf Rossini,” he said confidently.

Her eyes widened slightly. “That sounds... fancy.”

“It’s perfect,” he replied with a wink. “Trust me.”

The waitress returned, taking his order for a sole meunière and hers for the beef Rossini. “And a bottle of Château d’Yquem,” he added casually.

When the waitress nodded and walked away, she raised an eyebrow. “Château d’Yquem? What’s that?”

“You’ll see,” he replied cryptically.

Moments later, the waitress returned with a sleek silver ice bucket, placing it on the table with a bottle of golden wine nestled inside. The light caught the liquid, making it shimmer, and her eyes widened as realization hit.

“This is wine?” she asked, pointing to the bottle. 

“Not just any wine,” he said, pouring a glass with practiced ease. “It’s... exclusive.” 

“How exclusive?” she pressed.

He took a slow sip, his lips curving into a knowing smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Her eyes widened. “You’re drinking liquid gold?”

He laughed at her incredulous expression, his voice rich with amusement. “Relax. Tonight’s on me, remember?”

She rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

“Part of my charm,” he replied with a wink, setting his glass down.

Silence evoked as the air in the restaurant shimmered with quiet luxury, a symphony of muted chatter, piano tunes and crystal clinks filling the room. She leaned back against the chair, her delicate fingers tracing absent patterns on the edge of the table. Her gaze flickered toward the expansive window, the city lights sprawling like a living canvas. There was an effortless grace to her, the way her crimson dress caught the glow of the chandeliers, the silk shifting like liquid fire with her every move.

He couldn’t look away.

His pupils sharpened with intensity as he studied her, the soft curve of her jawline, the way her lips parted slightly as she sighed in quiet awe. Her black hair, cascading in soft curls to her waist, gleamed under the golden light. She was a vision, suspended somewhere between elegance and rebellion, her beauty a contradiction he couldn’t quite define but didn’t want to stop trying to.

She tilted her head, her profile catching the faint light of the chandelier, and his breath hitched. As he took a sip of his whiskey, the taste burned less than the thought that this moment—her, here, now—felt like something he shouldn’t deserve.

He smirked at himself, shaking his head slightly. Get a grip.

But then she glanced back at him, catching his stare, her brow arching in question. “What?” she asked, her voice laced with curiosity.

“Nothing,” he replied, his smirk deepening as he set his glass down. “Just taking it all in.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the slight tug of a smile at the corner of her lips.

Moments later their food arrived, the rich aroma wafting from her plate made her mouth water. She picked up her fork, taking a cautious bite. The moment the tender beef hit her taste buds, her eyes fluttered shut, and a soft hum of delight escaped her lips. 

“This is... amazing,” she said, already diving in for another bite. 

He watched her, captivated by the way she was completely absorbed in her food. Every little sound she made—those happy, involuntary noises—pulled his attention. For a moment, the bustling restaurant around them disappeared, leaving only her. 

“You’re staring, again.” she said suddenly, snapping him out of his daze. 

“You make it hard not to,” he admitted with a small smile. 

She flushed, quickly taking another bite. “Just eat your food, so we can get done” she muttered. 

He chuckled, cutting into his fish. They settled into a comfortable rhythm, exchanging light banter between bites. At one point, she attempted to spear a piece of his fish with her fork, but he caught her wrist with a grin. 

“Ah, ah. That’s mine,” he teased. 

“Sharing is caring,” she retorted, but he held firm, playfully shaking his head. 

He shook his head with exaggerated defiance, a sly grin tugging at his lips. “You want it that bad? Beg for it.”

She narrowed her eyes, “‘Never mind,’” she said, her voice thick with sarcasm as she went back to eat.

He chuckled, leaning closer. “Come on, don’t act like you didn’t do it.”

“That’s it, I’m leaving,” she said, standing up abruptly and grabbing her bag.

He burst into laughter, his gaze never leaving her. “I’m messing with you,” he said, grabbing her wrist gently and pulling her back into the chair.

She shot him a glare, crossing her arms. “You’re impossible.”

“But you love it,” he replied, giving her an amused smirk.

She sighed, reaching for her glass of water. As her gaze drifted across the room, it landed on a couple at a nearby table—so engrossed in each other they might as well have been the only two people in the restaurant. The man’s hand rested on the small of the woman’s back, and their faces were inches apart, whispering between soft kisses.

Her nose wrinkled. “Ugh. Get a room,” she muttered, her voice dripping with disdain.

He followed her line of sight, his brow arching before a low chuckle escaped his lips. “Jealous?”

She snapped her head back to him, her eyes narrowing. “Jealous? Please. That’s gross. There’s a time and place for that sort of thing, and it’s not next to someone trying to enjoy a meal.”

His grin widened as he leaned back, clearly enjoying her reaction. “You’re awfully opinionated for someone who didn’t seem to mind when I kissed you.”

Her cheeks flushed instantly. “That was different!”

“Oh, was it?” he teased, his tone playfully smug. “Because if I recall, you were the one leaning in first.”

Her jaw dropped. “I was not! You were the one who couldn’t keep it together and kissed me like some—”

“Like what?” he interrupted, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Someone who’s not afraid to take a chance?”

She glared at him, struggling to find a comeback that wouldn’t dig her deeper into the hole. “You’re crazy,” she finally huffed, crossing her arms again.

“not as much as you,” he replied, his smirk softening just enough to make her annoyed

The unspoken tension hung like a storm cloud between them, unshakably present as they lingered in that charged moment. “Are you actually saying you wish you were that couple?” he asked, leaning in with a seriousness that made her heart constrict.

Her heart raced at his words, a flutter of uncertainty and curiosity mixing with annoyance. “I just think PDA is a bit much!” she shot back, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her voice. “I mean, can’t people keep it to themselves?”

“Really?” he challenged, his voice low, brushing against her ear as he leaned closer. “Or maybe you’re just afraid of what it could feel like to let loose, to feel something real for once?”

Her breath caught in her throat as a rush of heat spread across her cheeks. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she shot back, a desperate edge in her voice. She could feel the tension weave between them like a live wire, crackling with possibility.

“Maybe I do,” he replied, that daring glint in his eye making her pulse quicken. “Maybe you just need the right moment to let go.”

The couple at the table nearby erupted in laughter again, and she found herself glancing back at them, trying to refocus. But when she looked up, he was watching her with an intensity that made her skin tingle. “Forget them,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, pulling her even further into his orbit. “What do you want? Something real? Or more of this… competition?”

Before she could formulate a response, he suddenly stood, extending a hand toward her. “Come with me.”

“Where?” she asked, hesitating but feeling a rush of adrenaline at the thought of doing something entirely unexpected.

“A place where we can talk,” he replied, a challenge sparking in his eyes. “Unless you’re too scared to follow.”

With her heart racing and her mind swirling with uncertainty, she placed her hand in his. He led her through the restaurant’s bustling dining area, weaving through startled diners and busy waitstaff. But there was no turning back. The thrill of being drawn into the unknown ignited something within her.

They approached a door at the back of the restaurant, and she felt both exhilarated and apprehensive. He flung it open, and they stepped into a dimly lit hallway lined with fancy doors that seemed to whisper secrets.

“Seriously, where are we?” she asked, blinking in the low light as confusion mixed with an adrenaline high.

“Somewhere more private,” he replied, his voice low and dangerous, eyes flickering with mischief and something deeper. “We won’t be interrupted here.”

Her pulse raced, excitement and fear coiling in her stomach. “Is this your idea of romance?” she shot back, the challenge lacing her voice, even as heat coursed through her.

“Maybe it’s just my idea of taking risks,” he countered, stepping closer, the space between them charged in a way that made her skin tingle. “You might even enjoy it.”

The energy shifted as they stood beneath the dim glow of the overhead light, their breaths mingling in the tight space. She caught herself wanting to feel the weight of his words, the electricity in the air. “What if someone catches?” she asked, half playful and half serious, but the way he was looking at her made her thrill with curiosity.

“Let them,” he said, eyes smouldering, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between them. “Are you really going to back down now?”

She felt a rush of defiance surge within her, mixed with undeniable attraction. “I’m not afraid,” she said boldly, but her voice wavered slightly, betraying the thrill and lust she was trying to suppress.

“Then let’s find out how dangerous this might get,” he murmured, his breath hot against her ear, igniting the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

With that, he turned on his heel, pulling her deeper into the hall, and she felt her heart pounding with excitement and uncertainty. Each step into the unknown only drew them closer together, and she couldn't shake the thrill of what lay ahead—the thrilling uncertainty,

He paused in front of an ornate door that looked far more expensive than the rest, its golden handle glinting in the dim light. With a knowing smirk, he pushed it open, and she was met with an intoxicating scent—rich cologne mingling with something deeper, something intimate that tugged at her senses.

As they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The room was lavishly decorated, a blend of modern luxury and classic elegance. An oversized leather couch sat in the center along with a table, surrounded by walls adorned with vibrant artwork that seemed to pull her in. Warm lights cast a cozy glow, and a plush rug covered the floor, offering a sense of comfort veiled in sultriness.

“wow,” she breathed, taking in the opulence, momentarily forgetting the tension simmering between them.

“Sit,” he commanded softly, gesturing toward the couch. She hesitated for only a moment before obeying, settling into the soft fabric while he moved around the room, his gaze scanning various items scattered about—a vintage record player, a collection of intriguing books, and an array of exotic liquor bottles.

Stopping at a sleek display cabinet, he opened the door and pulled out a pistol, its silver surface gleaming in the warm light. A grin played across his lips as he turned to face her, an unsettling excitement dancing in his eyes.

“We’re going to play a game,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Russian roulette.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “Are you serious?”

“Relax.” He waved his hand dismissively, the light glinting off the barrel. “Only this time, we’re playing with a twist. There’s only one bullet, and each time the gun goes off, we have to strip a piece of clothing.”

A mix of thrill and apprehension surged through her. “That’s insane.”

“Maybe,” he replied, his smirk deepening, “but wouldn’t it be fun?”

With a defiant spark in her eyes, she leaned forward. “Fine, let’s play.”

He sat across from her, the couch sinking slightly under his weight, and loaded the bullet into the chamber with a casualness that both intrigued and unnerved her. He spun the cylinder and brought the gun to his temple, pulling the trigger—click. He laughed, a dark sound that echoed in the room,

“Not so scary, right?” he teased, loosening his suit jacket. With a fluid motion, revealing a fitted dress shirt that clung to his frame, accentuating the muscular definition of his arms and shoulders. The sight made her pulse quicken

“Your turn.” He passed the gun to her.

She arched an eyebrow but took the gun, feeling its weight in her hand. She couldn’t believe they were doing this. She spun the cylinder herself, heart racing, and then pressed it to her temple. Click. A rush of relief washed over her.

“Now it’s time to shed that scarf,” he said with a teasing tone. With a quick, decisive movement, she untied the delicate fabric and let it fall to the floor, feeling freer, more emboldened.

“Here you go,” she responded, tossing the gun back to him. The tension was tangible as he caught it effortlessly.

filled with a languid confidence. “Ready?” He pressed the barrel once more to his temple—click. The sound rang through the air like a taunt, a challenge freighted with electricity.

“Lucky again,” he grinned, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“What’s next? Your shirt?” she quipped, eager to see how far this would go.

His gaze flicked to her, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he loosens the tie taking it off, before he began to unbutton his crisp white dress shirt. With each button undone, the cloth pulled away to reveal the chiselled muscles of his torso, the defined lines and curves making her breathless. He threw the shirt aside, letting it flutter to the ground like a fallen banner of surrender.

She couldn’t help but take in the sight, her breath momentarily caught in her throat. she breathed, both impressed and challenged by the game they were playing.

“Like what you see? Now it’s your turn,” he teased, giving her the gun once more, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

She took the gun, spun the cylinder yet again, and pressed it against her temple—click. Relief flooded her, but the tension was palpable.

“Let’s play it safe,” she decided, slipping off her heels and leaving her feet bare on the plush rug beneath her. The contact with the soft Fibers felt grounding after the intensity of the game.

“Back to me,” he said, taking the gun from her hands once more. He spun the cylinder, glancing at her with that effortless chill. “Here we go.”

With a languid movement, he pressed the cold metal against his own temple, a shrug of confidence reflecting in his posture. He squeezed the trigger—click. The sound reverberated, leaving an unsettling silence in its wake.

She felt a small knot of apprehension twist in her stomach. Could they keep going like this? The stakes were rising, and she felt the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

He turned to her, offering her the gun again. “Your turn. Only two triggers are left, make sure not to die.”

With a mixture of determination and nerve, she accepted the gun from him. Her heart raced as she spun the cylinder for what felt like the hundredth time.

He stood to remove his shoes, casually tossing them to the side. That simple act ignited something within her, a thrilling edge of power and vulnerability. Just as he prepared to sit down, she lunged forward with a sudden burst of resolve.

With a swift motion, she pinned him against the couch, the gun now aimed firmly at his chest.

"What’s the matter?" he teased, the laughter in his eyes shifting to something darker. “Afraid you will die?”

“Not a chance,” she challenged, taking a seat on his lap, her pulse racing. In a moment of reckless defiance, she kept the gun pointed at him. “You think this is a game?”

He laughed, a wild, psychotic sound that echoed against the walls. his hands resting firmly on her waist, the gun now pressed against his chest as he leaned in closer. “I love it when you take charge.”

“You’re going to regret underestimating me,” she said, catching a glimpse of the wild delight dancing in his eyes.

“so it’s Game over for me?” he taunted, his words dripping with boldness. His hands slowly wandered to her thighs, fingers teasing, sending pulses of electricity coursing through her. “Shame, really. I’d hate to die without pleasuring you.”

Her breath hitched at his insinuation, his cocky demeanour igniting an uncontrollable fire within her. The tension crackled like static in the air, urging her to respond.

“You wish.” she said, her voice wavering slightly with the rush of emotions surging through her.

With a fury of need and desire, she leaned in and captured his lips in a fervent kiss, their mouths colliding in an explosion of pent-up frustration and attraction. The world around them melted away as her heart raced. The moment was electric, and in the whirlwind of passion, she pulled the trigger.

But all that followed was a click.

The sound ricocheted in the silence between them, and her eyes widened in shock as she pulled away. The thrill morphed into a dizzying rush as realization struck—there had been no bullet, no fatal ending, only the raw, intoxicating energy swirling in the air between them.

That's when he took the gun from her hands, his movements quick and decisive, a spark of defiance in his eyes. With a swift motion, he tossed it across the room, the gun landing with a loud thud against the wall.

“If you wanted my tongue against you, then you’ve fucking earned it,” he spat, crashing their lips together in a fierce, hungry kiss.

Her hands tangled in his hair, tugging tightly, igniting a low groan that reverberated into her mouth.

"You wanted to fucking kill me, sweetheart," he growled, biting her bottom lip, eliciting a sharp whimper from her.

“It was your game,” she countered, the adrenaline pulsing through her like fire.

“And yet,” he replied, his voice dark and sultry, “I’d never kill you.”

“I wouldn’t either.” She pulled back, a smirk curving her lips as her eyes roamed over his swollen lips and messy hair, an enticing sight.

“So, why did you aim that gun at me? Say it.”

“Because I was too damn scared, you’d do it instead of me,” she admitted, feeling his grip on her loosen slightly.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you really know how to make a scene,” he murmured, his fingers deftly unbuckling his belt with confidence.

“Kneel,” he demanded, helping her rise before guiding her down so she knelt on the floor, her dress cascading around her like a waterfall.

“You want to act like a little slut? Then suck until your mouth isn’t filthy,” he spat, and she flashed him a smirk as she slid his pants down, revealing his hard on.

Her hand wrapped around the base of him, moving up and down slowly, the rhythm sending soft growls of pleasure from his lips. As she continued pumping back and forth, in a rhythmic pattern the more he strived for her lips.

“Did you not hear me? I said suck,” he snapped, frustration threading through his tone.

She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “You call me a slut yet can’t wait a moment longer?” With a teasing glimmer in her eyes, she leaned forward, taking his tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it while maintaining a steady rhythm with her hand. His breath hitched, a bead of sweat forming on his chest as he succumbed to the jolting pleasure.

Without warning he bunched her hair up in his fist and pushed his tip to the back of her throat, thrusting himself deeper into her mouth until she gagged. The sight of her watering eyes only seemed to rile him up.

“Look how fucking beautiful you are, my darling. Take all of me, just like the good whore you are," he breathed, pleasure dripping from his words.

Her eyes glistened with tears. and he watched her head bob back and forth.

"fuck I'm going to—" he gasped, releasing her head and pulling back slightly. But before he could finish himself off, she caught his hand, her determination surging, and continued, letting the warm liquid hit the back of her throat while he moaned, curses spilling from his lips until he finished.

He fixed his gaze on her as she swallowed every drop, wiping her bottom lip clean with a satisfied smile. “You’re not finishing with me down here,” she challenged, cheeky confidence returning.

“Insanity suits you,” he replied, standing and holding out a hand to help her rise. “Now let’s see just how wet you are for me.”

He led her to the table, and a surge of vulnerability washed over her as he slammed her against it giving him full access to her clit, while her stomach pressed against the polished wood. His hands roamed the insides of her thighs, and she softly moans as he moved her lace underwear to the side, his fingers brushing against her trembling skin

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, he pulled her head back, connecting their lips once more, sucking on her bottom lip. After He released her hair, his hand quickly found her clit, eliciting a moan that was both pleasure and pain.

“Make a scene, sweetheart. Let everyone hear how much you enjoy this," he seethed, delivering a sharp smack that made her gasp, her stomach hitting the table harder.

As he moved her dress out of the way, he slowly removed her thong. Her grip tightened on the table's edges, anticipation thrumming in her veins. But just as she exhaled, he pressed a blade to her neck, drawing a gasp from her lips as he grabbed another fistful of hair to pull her back.

“I’m going to fuck you until you beg to finish, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a low growl. “But this is on my terms. Move too much, and your blood will splatter.” She nodded slowly, and without warning he pushed himself inside of her.

She gasped, feeling every inch of him stretching her, she felt his eyes darken with lust as he fucked her against the table. Each powerful thrust accompanied by the sound of the table squeaking beneath her, the blade scratched at her skin making her hiss at the foreign pain of the knife grazing her neck.

“you like that? hmm” he asked, delight etched in his expression.

“I do. It hurts," she admitted, breathless.

“Tell me to stop,”

But the words caught in her throat, her senses overwhelmed as the blade pressed deeper, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes back in pleasure.

“ But that's the thing, you like that huh? You don't have to hide what you truly want. I know you like this blade at your neck. Watch how good you take my dick slut" he groaned into her ear picking up the pace and she could already feel herself coming close to finishing.

A few more cuts on her neck and he flipped her over, her back colliding with the table, the sharp contrast of sensations sending goosebumps over her skin.

He poured his focus on the cuts, pressing kisses over the crimson marks as the metallic taste lingered in the air. The euphoric mix of pain and pleasure sent her into a frenzy, her nails digging into his bare back as he slipped himself back inside of her her.

“You won’t be the only one leaving this room marked,” she moaned in between their kisses. Both of them cursing and filling the room with the sound of their pleasure.

Their bodies moved in sync, letting the euphoria continue and their pace become sloppy. a dangerous dance of desire and desperation, the air thick with their shared moans and whispered curses.

“I’m gonna—"

“Not yet,” he interrupted, the tension in his voice low and commanding.

“I can't—” she yelped when he stopped, a sharp smack to her ass, only hard enough to sting.

“You can, and you will,” he grunted, slamming into her again, her hips bucking against him as he threw her leg onto his shoulder, pushing deeper. His penetrating gaze bore into her, making sure she didn’t disobey.

“Beg if you wanna finish.”

“Please,” she pleaded, breathless urgency coloring her voice.

“You're mine. Never forget that. Got it?" he growled. She hummed in agreement.

“Use your words,”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours, please—”

“I know, sweetheart. I know. Cum for me. Be a good girl,” he murmured, and she quickly became undone. After a couple more strokes he finished after, his head rolling back in delight.

Her legs quivering and the short circuit of her brain stopping for just a moment. It was almost as if her body was made to be with him alone, each pulse and surge a beautiful convergence of pleasure and pain.

He tucked himself back before effortlessly lifting her off the table. Her feet barely touched the floor before her legs wobbled beneath her, struggling to support her weight.

"I can’t walk," she muttered, clutching the edge of the table for support, the remnants of their passion still buzzing in her veins.

"What was that?" he asked, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

"You heard me. Shut up and help me stand up," she sneered, irritation mingling with the lingering satisfaction in her tone.

He rolled his eyes, but his expression softened as he stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her waist to keep her upright. "Alright, sweetheart. I’ve got you," he murmured, his voice low and steady. With gentle firmness, he helped her regain her footing, guiding her away from the table as she leaned into him.

They took a few tentative steps, and he chuckled again, the sound warm against her ear. "You really know how to make things interesting."

“Oh, shut up,” she replied, though a smile betrayed her annoyance. “You’re lucky I’m even standing,” she added with a playful roll of her eyes.

“Lucky? I was thinking of round two,” he shot back with a grin, winking at her as they made their way towards the couch. Unaware of long night they’re about to witness.

part 1

[14dayswithyou]

I literally have the most amazing and wonderful community in the entire world???? T_T In this essay, I will—

This is going to be raw and unedited because I want to get my initial thoughts out there before I forget n go back to crying /pos, but?? Yawl.... I can't even begin to find the words to express how appreciative and grateful I am for each and every one of you!! ;v;

I've spent the past few hours reading through everyone's personally written messages, then rereading them all again to let it all fully sink in. I'm being genuine when I say that I've never felt this loved or appreciated in any community before in my life.

Those in the Discord server might know about this already, but since the start of this year, I haven't really been enjoying myself (nor have I been as active) in the yandere VN community. There was far too much infighting between devs, parasocial communities, and toxic anons that ruined so much for me — so I withdrew from it all and remained in my own small bubble. Even then, I still got belittled, harassed, doxxed, and even became the target of Tall Poppy Syndrome by others; most of which nearly made me want to leave altogether, but the overflowing amount of support from everyone in the 14DWY community made me want to stay.

And even now, after reading all those heartfelt messages... I think it's permanently solidified the little space I occupy here on the internet :3

So... Yeah, long story short (and a story that will likely end up as its own separate Tumblr post gjskskjd), I wasn't enjoying myself at all in the yandere VN community... but I did have the time of my life in the 14DWY community. And it's all thanks to you guys.

I'm genuinely sooooo proud to have such an endlessly kind, social, and talented community; and I'm glad to have brought such an interactive and friendly group of people together over our shared interest in such a nice concept. 14DWY is essentially a labour of my love — and although I'm ultimately creating it for me and my silly interests — it's still something that I want to make worthy of you guys as well. All the love and support you've shown me and 14DWY motivates me to do my very best, and y'all deserve nothing less. So...

Thank you all for finding a comfort character in my Totally Normal Guy and his Totally Not Eccentric quirks. Thank you for all the insanely talented creations y'all make and share with me. Thank you for sending in your silly (/pos) questions and turning them into inside jokes and AUs for the rest of the community to enjoy. Thank you for talking with me and making this space a genuinely fun place for me to be in again.

From the bottom of my heart; thank you all so much. I really hope everyone has had an amazing year so far, and I hope 2025 will be as kind to you as you all were towards me.

I also want to give a big fat massive huuuuuuuge shout-out to Ashe / @flaneur001 my love (/p) for organising the 14DWY letter event on Discord, and for contributing so much of their time and dedication to the 14DWY community. You say you've only been part of the community for a year, but to me, that was a year well cherished and appreciated. The 14DWY community (and me especially) have all been so lucky to spend this past year with you, and I sincerely hope you've enjoyed it as much as we have. You've done so much for me, the community, and the 14DWY Discord server, so it's only fair that you get the recognition you deserve. So thank you, Ashe!! And a big thank you to everyone in the 14DWY Discord who participated in this event as well!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some cryin and sobbin to do <3 /silly /pos

[cherrysolo]

CALL IT EHAT YOU EANT!! and also runner up bf luigi in college 😇

summary: you and luigi were roommates, meeting in sophomore year at Upenn. now during your final year as a students, it was harder than ever to keep your feelings at bay.

this is pure fluff and really cheesy, but it was so fun to write! I hope you guys enjoy it <3 inspired by “call it what you want” by miss taylor swift!

he was your best friend, you guys did everything together. studying, cooking, and laughing until the sun rose. even though you guys only got aquatinted about two years ago, it felt like you’ve known him your entire life. you truly believed you were soulmates, he knew you better than anyone else. his starry eyes always sparking up your darkest nights, and you truly hoped he felt the same. lingering eyes, soft touches to your back, and quaint signs of pda, that made you believe maybe he wanted more.

you’ve had enough of trial and error of relationships, awkward coffee shop dates, and hinge hookups. you wanted something real with meaning. but, lu loved you like you were brand new, even if you were only friends. he loved everything about you, your smile, your laugh, the freckles that scattered across your face, and your passion for taylor swift. he thought you were a bit crazy sometimes staying up late to see what surprise song she would sing, but his favourite was when he would catch you blasting her music in the kitchen, dancing around like nobody was watching. you thought you had annoyed lu with your obsession, constantly yapping his ear off about news about taylor, and rep tv theories, but he truly loved it more than ever. seeing your face light up, and babbling on about something you’re so passionate about, he could sit there for hours staring at you.

“I want to wear his initial

On a chain 'round my neck, chain 'round my neck

Not because he owns me

But 'cause he really knows me

Which is more than they can say,”

You recall late November, sitting at your kitchen island blasting reputation and studying for your psych final. sipping on a camomile tea, going over the same notes for hours, you were beginning to fall tired. until you heard the door unlock.

“y/n? im back from class,” luigi exclaims, walking through the door with a shy smile.

“hey lu, im in the kitchen,” your heart begins racing whenever you see him, even during small moments like these.

he places his bag down, and leans against the kitchen island. his eyes dot between you and your speaker, quirking his eyebrow.

“this is the snake album right?” he questions. you start laughing with full force, he really does try his best.

“yeah, it’s called reputation, lu. remember? I’ve only told you about a million times,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

“im just messing with you pretty girl, i could never forget your favourite things,” he smiles, making your cheeks flush pink, and he falls even more in love with you.

“anyways, i got you an early christmas present,” lu pushes a small bag across the island. your eyebrows quirk, looking at him in confusion. you guys never did christmas presents for the years you’ve been friends. you guys always decided on a movie night together, luigi didn’t like materialistic things anyway.

“this is random. what’s the occasion? Christmas isn’t for another few weeks,” you bite your lip nervously, your brain scatters to think of what could it be.

“let’s just say my close friend taylor inspired me,” luigi smirked.

you take a small box out of the bag, and realize that it’s tiffany blue. he got you a piece of tiffany jewelry,

“no, this is way too much! I can’t accept this,” you exclaim, shaking your head, pushing the box away.

“y/n… just open it.. please?” your eyes dot back and forth between luigi and the blue box.

you hesitantly unwrap the ribbon and open the box, to uncover a silver necklace. the necklace has a heart shaped pendant with the letter “L” engraved on it. your heart stops, your face heats up, then you lock eyes.

“you know? the lyrics you always sing around the house?” luigi softly smiles. your mouth goes completely dry.

“wow. yeah, I didn’t think you noticed,” luigi starts walking towards you and grabs the box.

“do you mind? why don’t we put it on,” gesturing to help you put on the new gift. you move your hair out of the way, so that he has access. your breath hitches and so does his. you feel his fingers slightly touch your neck, and lay the necklace onto you. you feel his fingers clasp the necklace, then slowly move to your shoulder as you face him.

“wow, it looks beautiful on you, y/n.” luigi softly whispers. his eyes flickering back from your eyes to your lips. both of you are breathing heavily, not knowing what will happen next.

“thank you, lu. it’s stunning, you really do know me,” you say breathless, your eyes fluttering to his lips.

“I’ve been wanting to do this forever, is this okay, y/n?” luigi places his hand to your jaw, his thumb lovingly rubbing your cheek. you nodded, breathing too heavy you couldn’t speak.

your lips brushing his, and the mix of heavy breaths and urgency filled the air. he grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, making up for lost time. you both pull apart, blushing and overwhelmed.

“wow,” lu kisses the side of your mouth,

“maybe I do really know you,” he winks, returning to kiss you again.

the end.

[mononijikayu]

araw – araw — gojo satoru.

You smiled, tired but radiant, and beckoned him closer. "Satoru." you whispered, your voice soft and full of emotion. "Come meet your son." He approached, his heart pounding in a way no battle or curse had ever caused. As he looked down at the small, fragile life wrapped in the softest of blankets, his breath caught in his throat. You gently placed Satoshi in his arms, and the world seemed to still. "He’s perfect." Satoru couldn’t help but murmur, his usually excited voice tender filled with quiet awe and wonder. "You’re amazing, you really are." Tears pricked at the corners of his cerulean eyes as he looked back at you, the love and gratitude in his gaze almost overwhelming. "This… this is the best birthday gift anyone could ever give me."

GENRE: post hidden - post inventory arc (2010s)

WARNING/S: domesticity, fluff, angst, trauma, implied death, violence, romance, hurt/comfort, character death depiction of death, depictions of loss and depression, mention of pregnancy, depiction of the aftermath of birth, depiction of parenthood, depiction of blood, depiction of killing, depiction of suffering, depiction of anxiety, mention of death, mention of grief, profanity, family drama;

WORD COUNT: 4.2k

NOTE: i wanted to write today because it's genmei (you)'s birthday. you in this story were born on january 10th, 1986 - a few years older than satoru!!! there's only a month distance between satoru, megumi, satoshi and your birthday - so the household is always fun like that. oh and the card, megumi and tsumiki wrote thank you mom on the card!!! please listen to this song a lot too, opm is really great!!! i hope you enjoy this a lot like i did. i love you so much!!! see you on the next one <3

masterlist

u s and t h e m

if you want to, tip! <3

IT'S INTERESTING THAT THIS IS THE FIRST TIME HE COULDN’T FIND A GOOD PLAN. But it was true, this is the first conundrum he’s ever had to face in his life. Gojo Satoru doesn't think he's ever been good at not knowing how to do this before.

He's managed to face down curses that could obliterate cities, stood toe-to-toe with some of the most formidable foes in the world, and always come out on top. 

But he supposed that he will only ever be undone by you. Perhaps it was always the case ever since he’s met you. That was as inevitable as falling in love with you. Everything was going to be a challenge. And he loved that. Because he loved you. 

As he stands in the quiet of the early morning, he finds himself completely at a loss as he takes in the silence of the brightening dawn. He sighed tenderly as he found himself stopping his cerulean gaze right in front of him—you. 

You were still comfortably fast asleep, with soft breaths escaping your tender lips, you looked peaceful despite the exhaustion etched on your face. Just the way he likes it. Much more so nowadays, knowing how tired you’ve been. 

You were a new mother. And being a new mother, it was a lot of work. Even if you took turns taking care of the little treasure you brought into the world, Satoru knows that you work harder than he ever will.

He knows you stayed up all night keeping Satoshi asleep, cradling your son in your arms whenever he stirred.  And just as much, you also keep up to date with Megumi and Tsumiki, no matter what happens. 

Of course, he would tell you off so that you would continue on your bed rest or continue about taking as much time to heal as possible. But you couldn’t help it. This has been your entire life for almost half a decade.

You like being involved with everything. But Satoru worries, he always does. He can’t help it. He was just as much a father as he was a husband. You gave him everything that’s good in his life. And he means it. 

Yet now this leaves him in a conundrum.

How the hell could he top this gift of a lifetime?

How can he equate this gift on your birthday?

It was only a month ago, on his birthday, when you handed him the most precious gift in the world: your newborn son, Satoshi. The memory of that day is etched vividly in Gojo Satoru’s mind, a moment he revisits often, especially in the quiet hours of the night when the world is asleep, and it’s just the two of you and little Satoshi.

He remembers the soft glow of the hospital room, the way your bright eyes shimmered with a mix of exhaustion and pure joy as you gently cradled the tiny bundle of life, a life that both of you created, a life you had risked heaven and earth for, lay tenderly quiet in your arms.

Satoru had entered the room, his usual confident stride slightly hesitant, his light blue gaze locked onto you. The second his eyes met yours, he felt something shift deep within him—a kind of warmth he had never known before. One that he never thought he’d ever feel.

You smiled, tired but radiant, and beckoned him closer. "Satoru." you whispered, your voice soft and full of emotion. "Come meet your son."

He approached, his heart pounding in a way no battle or curse had ever caused. As he looked down at the small, fragile life wrapped in the softest of blankets, his breath caught in his throat. You gently placed Satoshi in his arms, and the world seemed to still.

"He’s perfect." Satoru couldn’t help but murmur, his usually excited voice tender filled with quiet awe and wonder. "You’re amazing, you really are."

Tears pricked at the corners of his cerulean eyes as he looked back at you, the love and gratitude in his gaze almost overwhelming. "This… this is the best birthday gift anyone could ever give me."

In that moment, Satoru realized what it truly meant to be loved and to love in return. Holding Satoshi close, he silently vowed to protect and cherish his family with every ounce of his being. That day, his life changed forever, not because of his immense power or the battles he fought, but because of the tiny life in his arms and the incredible person who had given it to him.

Now, as he watches you sleep, that memory fuels his determination to make your birthday just as unforgettable. You had given him the world, and now it was his turn to make sure you felt just as cherished, just as loved. But still, what could he do that could equate to that? What could ever be enough to make your birthday just as special?

Satoru could only sigh quietly, scratching the back of his head, as he gazed at you lovingly. How could he possibly top that devoted act of yours? How could he make your birthday as special as you made his?

His clear mind races with ideas, but none of them feel good enough. With a quiet determination, he stands up, stretching carefully to avoid waking you, his joints softly popping in the stillness of the room.

When he finishes, he tiptoes over to the crib where your little son, Satoshi, sleeps peacefully. The soft moonlight filtering through the curtains casts a gentle glow over the room, highlighting the delicate features of the little one. 

Satoru leans down, a tender smile tugging at his lips as he watches the slow rise and fall of Satoshi’s tiny chest. His little hands are curled into fists, and his lips form a small pout as his little one continues to find himself in dreamland.

"Hey, little treasure of mine." Satoru whispers softly, brushing a finger gently across Satoshi’s cheek. "You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, you know that? And it’s all thanks to your amazing mom. You should be nicer to mom, okay? ‘specially today. It’s your mom’s birthday, after all."

A soft murmur releases from your son’s lips. Satoru couldn’t help but laugh silently. He could understand him, he supposed. Satoru will take his son’s hum as an answer. He stands there for a few moments longer, lost in the serenity of the moment.

The quiet hum of the house, the soft breaths of his sleeping son, and the comforting presence of you in the next room—all of it fills him with a profound sense of peace and gratitude.

Determined not to waste another moment, Satoru quietly steps out of the room. As he pads down the hallway, he hears the soft murmurs of Megumi and Tsumiki stirring their rooms.

A small smile plays on his lips as he finds himself leaning against the wall by their hall. A little while later, he could see Megumi and Tsumiki padding into their rooms, still rubbing the sleep from their eyes.

"Satoru–san?" Tsumiki whispers, her voice gentle as she rubs the sleep from her eyes. "Why are you up so early?"

"Yeah." Megumi adds, stifling a yawn as he steps into the room. "And why are you standing there like that? You look like you’re about to pick a fight with someone. It’s weird."

Satoru raises an eyebrow, feigning offense as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Hey, standing around waiting for my kids to wake up isn’t weird. It's dedication."

Tsumiki giggles softly, covering her mouth with her hand. "Dedication to what, exactly?"

"To make sure we have the best start to the day, obviously!" Satoru replies with a playful grin. "Besides, today’s special, remember? It’s my wife’s birthday, and I need my secret weapons—aka you two—to help me make it perfect."

Megumi narrows his bluish–green eyes slightly, still skeptical. "Secret weapons, huh?"

"That’s right, you guys." Satoru says, ruffling Megumi's hair affectionately. "You two are crucial to this mission. So, what do you say? Ready to help make this the best birthday ever?"

Tsumiki and Megumi exchange a glance before nodding in unison, their sleepy expressions replaced by excitement. Though, excitement for Megumi is different than it was for Tsumiki. That’s just how his little ones were. Tsumiki giggles as she walks up to Satoru. Megumi hums, crossing his arms as he looks away. But from a corner, Satoru could see his little smile. 

"Okay, secret weapons reporting for duty!" Tsumiki says with a mock salute, making Satoru laugh.

"That’s the spirit!" he replies. "Now, let’s get to work before they wake up and catch us in the act."

Breakfast could be a start, of course. Satoru had all the intentions of making today special just for you. Together, they tiptoe to the wide expanse of the kitchen, careful not to wake you.

The early morning light filters softly through the pastel curtains, casting a warm glow on their little covert operation. Satoru takes the lead on the operations, whispering instructions like a seasoned chef conducting a top-secret mission.

"Alright, Megumi, you're on egg duty!" Satoru says, pointing to the carton of eggs on the counter. "Crack 'em like a pro."

Megumi steps up, carefully cracking an egg against the bowl’s edge. A small shell fragment falls in, and he quickly fishes it out, shooting Satoru with a determined look. "I got this."

"Careful with the eggs, Megumi." Satoru whispers with a grin, leaning in conspiratorially. "We don’t want to serve scrambled shells to your mother."

“Gen–san’s not my mom….” Megumi rolls his eyes but can’t help the small smirk tugging at his lips. Satoru goes behind him and pats his head. Megumi could feel his ears turn red. "I know, I know. I’m not five anymore…..I’ll do well with Gen–san’s eggs."

Tsumiki giggles as she stands beside them, diligently stirring pancake batter. "You’re not much better, Gojo–san. You almost dropped the syrup a minute ago."

Satoru gasps dramatically, placing a hand over his heart as he looks at Tsumiki with a mock look of hurt. "Hey, hey, this is a delicate operation. We’re dealing with high-stakes birthday breakfast here!"

He then drops the act and winks, making Tsumiki laugh softly and Megumi snicker. “Alright, alright. Let’s do well. You know how sharp their nose is. They’ll smell it from a mile away.”

As the pancakes continue to sizzle on the griddle, the kitchen fills with the comforting aroma of sweet batter and freshly cut blueberries he’s adding onto the pancake.

He smiles as he flips them. Soon enough, he took the eggs from Megumi and thanked him. Satoru starts cooking the eggs on a frying pan on the other side of the burners.  

Megumi soon grabs a plate and starts to put it near Satoru, who thanks him. Satoru expertly flips the pancake and continues with the scrambled eggs. Megumi takes a cup from the cabinet and takes it to the refrigerator, taking the milk and pouring it out onto the cup. He takes more and starts doing the same for the rest. 

Satoru starts to hum as he turns the stove off. He plates your pancake then for him and the kids, before adding the scrambled eggs too.

Tsumiki happily adds the final touches to the batter with a sprinkle of cinnamon, while Megumi meticulously slices strawberries and bananas with a butter knife and adds them directly onto the plates. Satoru thanks the two of them as he carefully puts away everything they used for him to wash in the sink later.

Once the food is ready, the three of them carefully arrange your own food on a tray. They’ll eat their own food later. The blueberry pancakes are stacked neatly, topped with fresh fruit and a dollop of whipped cream.

A small bouquet of a variety of wildflowers from the garden, that Megumi found outside sits in a tiny vase next to a handmade card that Tsumiki decorated with hearts, glitter, and a sweet message inside by the two an Satoru remained etched inside.

Satoru steps back, beaming at their creation. "Alright, team, we’ve outdone ourselves. Let's wake up to our birthday target."

Tsumiki giggles again, picking up the card with pride. "Gen–san’s going to love it."

With the tray balanced carefully in Satoru’s hands, they make their way back to your room, hearts full of excitement. Tsumiki tries to suppress her excited giggles as she holds her brother’s hand, following Satoru. This was just the beginning. Today, they’re determined to show you just how much you mean to them—one heartfelt, lovingly crafted breakfast first, before the rest.

They quietly enter the master bedroom, Satoru balancing the tray with exaggerated care. You slowly stir at the sound of footsteps, effortlessly blinking, still rather weary as they came to approach you with their own sorts of excitements on their faces. The sight of all three of them standing there, happily, which can only make your heart melt.

“Happy birthday!” They all cheer, their voices soft but filled with all tones of excitement.

Satoru places the tray in front of you, as you slowly sit up, looking at him. Your husband's cerulean eyes were twinkling as he looked at you and placed a small kiss on your cheek. “Good morning. Sorry for the sudden surprise here.”

“Surprise really is a word to use.” You mumbled at him, teasingly as you smiled at him. “It’s a lovely way to wake up.”

“We made you breakfast, and Megumi and Tsumiki made this beautiful card for you,” Satoru whispers softly, his voice filled with affection as he places the tray gently in front of you. He gestures toward the card, a proud smile playing on his lips. “Obvious by Megumi’s handwriting. Which, you know, could use some work—”

“Hey!” Megumi’s face flushes red, his features contorting in mock indignation. His glare shifts between Satoru and you, though the hint of a smile betrays his embarrassment.

You chuckle, reaching over to give Satoru’s hand a playful smack. “It’s lovely, Megumi. Don’t worry.” Your eyes soften as you glance at the card, the glittery hearts and thoughtful message warming your heart.

Satoru pouts dramatically, rubbing the back of his hand as if you’d truly hurt him. “You didn’t have to smack me so hard, you know?” he says, feigning sadness, his lower lip jutting out in an exaggerated sulk.

“Hm, sorry about that, my love.” you reply, rolling your eyes playfully before leaning in to press a soft kiss to his jaw. “You didn’t have to do all this for me, you know.”

“Hey, we had to, babe.” Satoru whispers, his voice filled with quiet conviction as he meets your gaze. His smile widens, the warmth in his eyes making your heart flutter. “It’s such a special day, isn’t it? Celebrating the person who makes our little family whole.”

Tsumiki beams at your side, her hands clasped together. “We just wanted to make sure you felt as special as you make us feel every day.”

Megumi nods, a shy small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah, it’s not much, but we hope you like it.”

Your heart swells with love, and you urge them together. When they are together close to you, you pull them all into a warm embrace. “I love it. Thank you all so much. This is the best birthday ever.”

Satoru wraps his arms around the three of you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “You deserve the best, today and every day.”

You sit up, touched beyond words, and pull them all into a hug. “Thank you so much. This is the best birthday ever.”

Your beloved kisses the top of your head, his heart swelling with love. “No, thank you—for everything. We love you.”

Just as you all settle into the warmth of the moment, a soft, familiar cry echoes from the nearby crib. Satoshi's little voice rises, breaking the serene silence of the morning. Your husband Satoru chuckles, quickly pulling back slightly from the group hug.

"Looks like someone else wants to join our little celebration." he says, his bright blue eyes twinkling. 

You smile, beginning to rise, but Satoru gently places a hand on your shoulder. "I’ve got this, babe." he whispers, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "You relax and enjoy your breakfast."

Satoru turns to Tsumiki and Megumi. “Both of you too. Go and eat breakfast too. We might go out later, to have fun. So you should go and get some strength too.”

“Okay!” Tsumiki nodded and started to pull Megumi with her, who was telling her that he could walk without being dragged by her. But she didn’t listen to him. She just happily pulled him along. You shook your head and smiled, starting to eat your breakfast.

Satoru carefully strides over to the crib, his heart melting at the sight of Satoshi, his tiny fists waving in the air towards his father, his little face scrunched in a mix of confusion and need. Satoru carefully scoops him up, cradling him in his arms with as much gentleness as he could.

"Hey there, little treasure. Good morning.” Satoru murmurs softly, rocking him gently. "Did you miss out on the fun? Don’t worry, we saved the best part for you."

Satoshi’s cries quietly down as he snuggles into Satoru’s chest, his tiny hands gripping the fabric of Satoru’s night shirt. Satoru slowly makes his way back into your bedroom and takes a moment to look at you, before he walks back to the bed, sitting down beside you, with Satoshi nestled in his arms.

"Look who decided to wake up to join the party, mama." he says, smiling as he hands the baby to you.

You cradle Satoshi, his soft coos filling the room as he gazes up at you with wide, curious blue eyes. He looks so much like your husband, when he’s waking up. It was all too cute.

“Good morning to you sweetheart.” you whisper, brushing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “You wanted to join the birthday celebration, huh?”

“What do you want to do later?” Satoru asks, his voice light, though there’s an earnestness in his gaze. He watches you take a sip of milk, his bright blue eyes softening as they linger on you. “We gotta celebrate your birthday somehow—”

You pause, lowering the glass, and look up at him with a furrowed brow, a bit confused. “But we already are, aren’t we?” you reply, your voice warm with sincerity. “This is already an amazing celebration, Satoru.”

He smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he gently shakes his head. “Babe, I know you’re happy with this, but I want you to have a great birthday. Something that feels just as special as you are to me. Just as special as when you gave me our Satoshi here.”

Your heart melts at the tenderness in his voice, but a tiny knot forms in your stomach. “Satoru, I just….” you start, placing the glass down carefully.

“This... this is more than enough. I’ve got you, the kids, and this beautiful morning. I couldn’t ask for anything more. This is as special as Satoshi’s birth to me.”

Satoru leans forward slightly, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a quiet determination. “I know it’s enough, babe.” he says softly, almost like a promise. “But I want to give you the world. I want you to feel all the love and appreciation I have for you today.”

You can see the vulnerability in his bright blue eyes, that rare side of him that only comes out when it’s just the two of you, when the world around you fades away. Gojo Satoru is always so strong, so confident, but moments like this, when he’s giving you his whole heart— to show you just how deeply he cares.

You reach across the table, gently placing your hand over his. “You already do, every single day, my love.” you whisper, squeezing his hand. “I’m already the luckiest person in the world, just having this. Just being with you and the kids is everything I need for a great happy birthday. Nothing else matters but this.”

Satoru’s face softens, a smile finally reaching his eyes. He lifts your hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly. “I’m so lucky to have you, you know that?” he murmurs, the words filled with meaning. 

Your chest swells with love, and you lean in to kiss him softly, a promise to share in this beautiful moment together. “Just as I’m lucky to have you with me. Every day.”

epilogue

When the excitement of the morning passed you and Satoru spent the whole day with the kids, just playing board games and watching movies. But there was one little detail you couldn’t shake off: Satoru had been extra secretive. And the kids were too. Somehow, you didn’t know what to do about this. 

Satoru’s only secretive for three reasons — he wants to protect you, he wants to hide his sweet treat stash or he’s hiding something from you and that’s either him breaking something or your birthday present. The odds were always interestingly hard to know, when it comes to that. 

As the day went on, you couldn’t help but notice him acting a bit too casual, as if he was trying to hide something behind that trademark mischievously sly grin of his. You had a feeling. No, you knew.

Your husband had something planned. He has to have had something planned. As much as you do say you don't want to do much, you know your husband can be too eager to do something. Even if it's just presents. And knowing Gojo Satoru, it was probably something expensive, flashy, and completely unnecessary.

"Hey, ‘toru." you say, cornering him in the living room as he casually tosses a playful grin your way. “What’s this I hear about you getting me a gift?”

His eyes widen in mock surprise, though it’s clear he’s trying not to break into a full-on grin. “Gift? What gift? I didn’t get you anything, like you told me to.” he says, feigning innocence with an exaggerated shrug. “Cause you know….I’m a good boy.”

“Don’t lie to me, Satoru.” You cross your arms, your eyes narrowing as you give him your best ‘I know you’re up to something’ look. "I’ve seen that gleam in your eye before. You’re up to something ridiculous. Plus, Megumi blurted out something.”

Satoru chuckles, stepping closer to you with that playful swagger of his. “I don’t know what you mean, love of my life. Megumi could just be making it up too.” he says, winking.

"Uh, uh. You think our Megumi's the type to do that."

"I mean, it could happen, you know. Teens can be like that!"

"Satoru, he's not a teen yet."

"Yeah, but it still could happen." He points out to you, with a sly look. “Plus I’m sure whatever it is, you’ll love it. You deserve it, after all.”

“Aha! So you did get me a present!” You look at him and he smiles at you. He did not look guilty at all about outing himself. You shook your head at his reaction and then sigh, your shoulders slumping slightly.

"You didn’t spend a ton of money on it again, did you?”

Satoru’s grin falters just for a moment, but he quickly recovers. "Well, maybe just a little… okay, a lot.” He pulls a small, shiny box from behind his back with all the dramatic flair of a magician revealing his final trick.

Your eyes widen. "Satoru, no. You promised no big gifts this time! You and I talked about this!"

He opens the box slowly, and inside is a… luxurious watch. The kind that could probably buy you an entire year's worth of groceries. You stare at it, the gold and sleek design shining under the light.

It was probably a one of a kind one too. Satoru never gave you presents that were something people can get in mass consumption. He always wants to make sure you only got the best from him. And he had too much money on him to care about it. Even when you nag at him about it.

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You didn’t… You didn’t have to do this, Satoru. This is—”

“Absolutely perfect?” Satoru interrupts with a grin, obviously pleased with himself. “I thought you’d love it! It’s a little flashy, but hey, it’s your birthday, babe. You deserve to sparkle just as much as I do.”

You stare at him for a long moment, the weight of the situation sinking in. "Satoru, seriously. This is too much. We’ve talked about this… I don’t want you spending money like this on me."

He tilts his head, giving you that look, the one that says he’s not going to take no for an answer. “Babe, this is nothing compared to the actual present I was going to get you.”

You blink, your mind trying to catch up. “The what now?”

“Yeah.” He nods nonchalantly. “I was going to buy you an entire island, but I figured that might be a little over the top. You know, for your birthday and all.”

Your mouth hangs open for a second before you burst into laughter, unable to hold it in any longer. “An island?! Seriously? Are you trying to bankrupt us? I know we have a lot of money, Satoru but this is—”

Satoru shrugs, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Hey, I was gonna throw in a private jet too, but… we can save that for next year, actually.”

You shake your head in disbelief but you found youself chuckling at his thoughts. You can't help but feel a rush of affection for him. “I’m going to make you return it.” you say, though you can’t quite mask the smile spreading across your face.

“You won’t.” he says, smirking. “I already wrote a very convincing love letter to the shop owner. And you. It’s done. You gotta accept it!”

You laugh again, rolling your eyes playfully at your husband. “You’re impossible, Satoru. But I love you anyway.”

“Good to know, babe. I love you too.” he says with a wink. “Because I’m keeping that watch, and you’re wearing it every day from now on. Let me spoil you at least, hm? That's your husband's job!”

As you take the watch from him, still shaking your head in disbelief, you know one thing for sure: You’ll never win this battle. You know you can’t. Not when he loves you most in the world.

But at least you’ve got the most ridiculous, over-the-top husband in the world for everyday of your mortal lives together who loves you the most in the world and somehow, that’s more than enough.

"You should have gotten me a Casio."

Satoru narrows his eyes at you. "Baby, I have the money. We are not getting you a Casio."

[shalscumbunny]

Could I maybe get some Noncon uvogin crumbs if you like writing for him, if not Shalnark crumbs 🙏🏻

Hungry | Uvogin X Female!Reader

Summary: Uvogin clearly loves you, needs you, he is completely obsessed, your body is a treasure, the best appetizer that life can offer him, your body is simply so beautiful, so sensual, it makes him hungry for you.

Pairing: Uvogin X Female!Reader

Warnings: Vaginal sex, aggressive sex, female reader receiving oral sex, nipple sucking, vaginal bleeding, cumflation, pet names, stomach bulge due to penetration, non con, body manipulation, dacryphilia, impregnation kink, size kink

Author’s note: Good news! We will do both and start with Uvogin! because you deserve it! ❤ I hope u like it!

Sites: AO3

Being captured by Uvogin was a far cry from what the other members of the Phantom Troupe would have done. While the others would opt for discretion, leaving no traces and avoiding trouble, Uvogin literally had no problem capturing you in broad daylight and carrying you off like a rag doll thanks to the significant size difference. Even with all your strength, you wouldn't have been able to put up any resistance. 

And now you'd regained consciousness and your breath caught in your throat as you saw him standing at the foot of the bed where you lay, that giant, muscular figure, even bigger than a bear. You couldn't even swallow, your eyes fixed on him.

"You're a heavy sleeper, I like that" His deep voice made you tremble. 

"Please... let me go... I don't have any money" You begged, looking at him fearfully. 

"I don't want money, I don't use it" He replied mockingly. 

For someone so big and heavy, you were astonished when, in the blink of an eye, he was on top of you, pinning you to the bed. You only just noticed then that the bed was his, no one else would have a bed that big.

For the first time in your life, you were genuinely scared. You recalled the countless wildlife documentaries you’d watched during idle hours on television. For the first time, you identified with those small animals in the jaws of their predator.

“I’m a thief, thieves just take what they want…” You jumped as you felt his large hand grab your lower hip. “I want you, from the first time I saw you… so I’ve decided to take you.”

“I’m not an object you can possess” You tried to defend yourself, completely terrified but indignant.

You heard his deep, rumbling laugh. He seemed amused, as if he were playing with his prey, mocking your boldness at this moment.

And indeed, Uvogin was enjoying himself. From the first time he saw you, he liked you, he liked you a lot. Beside him, you were small, like a rabbit next to a bear, but it wasn’t just your appearance, he liked your personality a lot too.

He always saw you arguing, shouting, and being so stubborn, which was charming. He was surprised by how much naughtiness there was in such a small and... delicious... body.

“I should teach you how to behave in front of me. You’re mine now, you must obey me and respect me, especially obey me”

You froze as you watched his left hand wander and position itself on your abdomen. The hand was bigger than your torso; he could literally grasp your entire body with just one hand. You wanted to scream at him to stop, but you didn't have the courage when you looked into his eyes.

You twisted as his hand moved up your chest, his heavy fingers playing with your breasts aggressively, your legs trembling.

"W-wait... d-don't do that" You gasped, trying to turn away.

You wriggled trying to avoid him, but it was literally easy for Uvogin to rip your clothes off in a second, leaving you in just your panties. Your eyes filled with tears, and your face flushed.

"Do you really think you can stop me? Come on! Keep trying, it's fun to watch you struggle" Uvogin removed your bra, revealing your breasts, your nipples erect from the stimulation and the sudden cold.

"Let go of me!" You whimpered between gasps until his mouth captured one of your breasts, sucking and biting aggressively.

You were speechless, only forced moans came out of your mouth, while your legs managed to kick him, but you didn't really hurt him in any way, on the contrary, you began to feel a terrifying bulge forming in your kidnapper's crotch.

Your body trembled as his teeth tortured your breasts, as if they were flavored gum, a flavor he loved, while his big hands obscenely massaged your hips and ass.

Your weak hands tried to force him back, scratching and pinching, but that only excited him, it excited him to see you so tearful and defenseless, so much his...

One of his hands left your hip forcing you to open your legs revealing your wet panties which made him smile, he was hungry, hungry for that wet treasure on your legs.

“I don’t think you’re hating this” He whispered in your ear licking it and at the same time making you whimper.

Completely stupefied you saw his large middle finger caress your wet underwear making you move your hips involuntarily at the feeling of need.

“Are you wet, bunny?” He whispered caressing your clit with the wet fabric of your panties, the friction stealing your breath

“No! Please not there! Stop!” You begged between desperation, shame and pleasure

Uvogin was having one of the best times of his life, his middle finger roughly massaging your pussy, which looked tiny and small in his hand. Ecstatic to hear your whimpers and shame. It pleased him to be the one who inspired pleasure and terror in you, he was proud.

You couldn't hold out much longer, you came in your underwear between cries and begs and Uvogin was quick to take them off, revealing your excited and sticky pussy, you couldn't even anticipate Uvogin's animal acts, he took your breath away by sticking his finger inside you, already filling you completely.

Your cry of pain and pleasure made you open your mouth, which Uvogin took advantage of to plant a dirty kiss on you, inserting his tongue in your mouth and capturing yours.

All you could do was whimper on his tongue while your pussy squeezed his finger completely needy, you felt like it was pumped inside you quickly and roughly, making you cum several times.

“Good bunny, you see, you wanted it” He congratulated you with a growl in your ear, pulling his soaked finger out of your dilated pussy.

You saw him stand up, so you thought it was all over, however, the relief didn't last long, as you saw how he spread your legs and positioned his face between your thighs.

“I’ve been starving for hours” He murmured, licking your pussy with his tongue, making you shiver

“Please… no more” You begged, overstimulated

“Calm down bunny, now that you’re mine, we’re going to improve the stamina of this delicious pussy” Uvogin kissed your clit “My name is Uvogin, yes bunny? That’s the only name you’re going to moan from now on”

You tried to kick weakly, but with no effort Uvogin spread your legs wide and began to devour your pussy as if he hadn’t eaten in years, within seconds you had already cum for the first time, your insides were moving as he sucked on your clit, red with excitement, and his tongue penetrated your rubbery walls, it was more than you could handle, your head was clouding over and you were losing your mind.

At first you were just begging him to stop as you came on his tongue and chin, but every time you came, you started to lose track of the fact that you were literally being raped by your captor.

But soon Uvogin’s middle finger started pumping into your tight pussy as his tongue tortured your raw clit, making you cry for more and more as Uvogin greedily tasted your pleasure juices.

“Ah! Uvogin! Uvogin” You moaned his name, practically screaming it, exploding with pleasure

Uvogin proudly stood still, proud of the mess you were, seeing the bed all wrinkled from your attempts to escape and then the writhings of pleasure he caused you, because only he could, because you were only his.

You looked so silly with your mind clouded with pleasure, innocent even, like a submissive little bunny to him, adorable and tiny next to him, yes, you were definitely a bunny, his bunny.

“You know, I love bunnies, they’re so cute and pretend to be innocent, just like you” He purred in your ear as he pulled down his pants, your mind was so clouded with pleasure that you didn’t even notice the giant, hard cock between your thighs, completely swollen, veined and throbbing to be inside that fertile little pussy of yours.

His huge tip throbbed at your soaked and needy entrance, he knew it wasn’t going to fit in the easy way, so he would get it the hard way and teach you to take it the hard way, from now on that would be your duty.

“But bunnies are just like you, little whores eager for someone like me to fill their cunts and impregnate them” His deep voice made you writhe in pleasure

Uvogin took your chin, opening your mouth, kissing you once and at the same time giving you a deep thrust with his huge cock that knocked the air out of you, causing you to bite his mouth in the kiss, but he didn't care.

The strong stab brought you down from the cloud of pleasure, your body trembling from the pain, you even felt like you were going to faint, everything upset you, even feeling the blood from Uvogin's lips in your mouth.

You managed to break away from the kiss in tears, the unbearable burning and pain making you kick to separate yourself.

“Ah! It hurts! Please I don't want to” You begged between cries, watching your pussy bleed from the aggressive and huge intrusion

Uvogin loved you in the end, as much as he wanted you, so he comforted you by kissing your hair and caressing your clit to help you cope with the pain.

“Shhh… shhh… you’re taking it well” He whispered hotly to you pulling out a little and again penetrating you all the way “You’re going to like it, you’re going to get used to it”

You didn’t even have the strength to fight, you just whimpered into his hairy, big chest, amazed because only half of his huge cock was inside you, you even felt like you were going to die, you saw his fat cock stretching your rubbery, aching walls while you clearly saw how your belly was slightly bulging in its shape.

This time it took you a long time to get used to it, you cried every time he entered and exited your sore pussy that at least wasn’t bleeding anymore, but the stimulation on your clit managed to make you finally cum after a long time.

“See how you’re getting used to it, bunny, look how well you’re taking me” Uvogin congratulated you, increasing the pace of his thrusts

Your pussy squeezed him in such a delicious way that he felt lucky, it was a dream to see you so pretty and so small receiving his huge, fat cock while his heavy balls contracted, eager to release the semen they held.

All you could do was gasp and whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders and back, the intrusion was no longer so painful, your clit was so needy that it enjoyed Uvogin’s attentions and your pussy squeezed his cock as if it were begging for more, you didn’t even last long when his head hit your sweet, rubbery spot that made you forget the pain.

“I can’t anymore… ah… ah…” You begged between moans

Uvogin also knew that he wouldn’t last any longer, so he didn’t care about hurting you, he began to penetrate you with more force and kiss you needily.

“Pretty bunny, I’m going to fill you up, just like you deserve it, okay?” Uvogin’s muscular arms held you tight to him “I’m going to impregnate that pretty womb of yours, I’m going to make you a pretty mother of several children so that you remember who you belong to forever”

You didn’t even understand it well, your mind was clouded, completely lost between pleasure and pain, Uvogin wanted to impregnate you? Who cares! You only needed that thick, hot semen to satisfy you, to end the hot need of your body, even though your mind and heart cried out for help.

It finally happened, you rolled your eyes in pleasure as Uvogin filled you to the brim, brutally hitting your cervix, while hot, copious loads of thick cum filled you, starting to bulge your belly.

“Good bunny” Uvogin moaned in pleasure as he licked and bit at your neck “I was so hungry for you”

Thank u so much for reading this shit 🖤

Shalnark version-> HERE

[achilles-rage]

leaning in for a kiss but pulling away last second from the psychical intimacy list with also 3)friends with benefits from the smut prompt list with buck

yay i love this!! (also so sorry this is ass. i wrote the entire thing, and then tumblr mobile went down and i lost it all, so i had to rewrite it from memory)

also please keep sending these, they're fun!!

"leaning in for a kiss but pulling away last second" from this post, and "friends with benefits" from this post

MDNI- 18+ only!

you know you shouldn't be here. you know that this can only end horribly. buck is one of your best friends, and you can't imagine how awkward it would be if things went wrong, but you still find yourself here, on buck's doorstep, close to midnight.

your situation had started a couple months ago when you both came home drunk from the bar. one thing had led to another and you were sprawled out on his bed, both of you completely naked as he thrusted into you slowly, yet deeply.

you had both woken up the next morning slightly embarrassed, vowing it would never happen again, but somehow, when either one of you were lonely, you always end up in this same situation.

tonight is no different. you came to his house after an exceptionally bad date, hoping that buck could take your mind off of things.

he pulls you into his apartment quickly, and after telling him every painful detail of your date, your lips find his, and pretty soon, you're straddling his lap on the couch.

your kisses are hungry, yet lazy, and your hips set the pace as a slow grind against his lap as you claw at his shirt, eager to feel his skin against yours. he parts from your lips just long enough for you to take his shirt off of him, his hands not leaving your hips as they help you move against his hard cock beneath his jeans.

when you finally sink onto him, feeling the burning stretch of him filling you up so perfectly, you grip his shoulders hard. you catch yourself thinking about having him like this all the time. having him as yours completely, not just as a fuck buddy.

it’s not just that he’s good at what he does, either, although he definitely is, he also makes you feel so loved, so seen. 

“god, you’re gorgeous,” he always tells you while his hands roam your body, “always so good for me.” and your heart always soars.

you’re always so overwhelmed with his attention, and he has such a special way of making you feel adored. if it wasn’t with his words, it would be with his touch; groping and squeezing at every part of exposed skin while his eyes follow the path of his hands, drinking in your soft belly, and your chest, and your thick thighs. you can see the way he looks at you, but you can also feel the way he treasures having you like this. all his for the night.

he helps you roll your hips against his, eyes trained on the way your face contorts in pleasure and the way his cock disappears past your glistening folds. and, when you both finally cum, he buries his face into your chest, using one arm wrapped around your soft middle to keep you pressed firmly against him while the other hand focuses on your clit, fingers circling the sensitive bud and ensuring that you get every last bit of pleasure that he can give you.

he always kisses you after too, and then cleans you up, but tonight, you can’t bring yourself to kiss him back. the entire night you’ve been thinking about how much you want him as more than just this, and you feel embarrassed that you’ve fallen for the man that you have a friends with benefits situation going on with.

you can’t let him kiss you. it’s always gentle, and you’re afraid that if he kisses you one more time, your heart will break completely. as if his kisses are more intimate than having him inside of you.

he brings his lips towards yours, pulling you into him with one hand on the side of your neck, and at the last second, you drop your head and lean back slightly. 

he notices immediately, and pulls back, brows furrowing in confusion when he sees your sad eyes.

“hey, hey, hey. what’s wrong? look at me.” he says softly, bringing a finger up to the underside of your chin and forcing your face back up.

“i can’t do this anymore.” you whisper. you look up into his eyes, and you can feel your heart breaking more. he’s everything you could’ve asked for, and he’s nothing more than a friend.

“why not? did i do something wrong?” he asks nervously, feeling all the air being knocked out of him as your words settle in. you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him, and he silently prays that he hasn’t done something to fuck everything up.

“no. you did everything right. so right that you’ve ruined every man for me. and all i can ever think about is you.” you explain defeatedly, finally feeling a tear roll down your cheek as you laugh pathetically at your situation.

you’re not sure if you’re crying from sadness, or embarrassment, but either way, you know that you can’t let another tear fall. you don’t want things to get any worse than they already are.

without another word, buck pulls your lips to his, kissing you passionately. he tries to convey all his feelings into this kiss, trying to tell you that there’s no reason to cry, that he wants you too. you feel dizzy as you kiss him back, melting into the kiss and feeling unable to think about what this kiss means. all you can think about is his skin against yours. his cock still buried inside of you. his hands moving up and down the bare skin of your sides.

“i love you.” he whispers when he pulls away, bringing your foreheads together as his thumb moves in comforting strokes along your cheek.

“you- you do?” you ask, unable to speak louder than a whisper. you feel like what you heard couldn’t have been what he just said. surely you misheard him, and if you speak any louder, you’re sure your voice will crack, which will cause more tears to fall.

“i’ve always loved you.” he clarifies, pulling your forehead away from his and looking deeply into your eyes as he holds your face in his hands.

you let out a shaky breath, searching his eyes for any hint of deception. but you find none. his eyes are full of love, and you can see the hint of fear as well, as if he’s afraid that you don’t feel the same, despite all that you’ve said.

“i love you, too.” you whisper, sniffling softly as a grin erupts on your face. he grins as well, and then his lips are on yours again, claiming you as his own. 

“god, i love you so much.” he murmurs against your lips, hands moving in a desperate attempt to pull you impossibly closer. you’re finally his. all his.

[earthlybeam]

Hello! I just wanted to say that I absolutely love your writing. Especially the way you write Elrond! So good. You've very quickly become one of my favorite tumblr posters :) I don't know if anyone has asked this yet, but if not, how would Elrond, Círdan, and Gil-Galad react to the reader rescuing them from being captured by orcs/bandits? Thanks!

Thank you so much for your kind words! It truly means the world to me to hear that you enjoy my writing. 🥹❤️‍🔥🫶✨

As for your question, I actually wrote something similar to this idea before the title called “Elves reacting their you saving their life’s” it’s on my Masterlist pinned at top of my page you’ll find it in their, though I haven’t explored a scenario with orcs or bandits specifically—so I’d be more than happy to write it for you. It’s such a fun and dynamic setup, and I love the idea of exploring how Elrond, Círdan, and Gil-galad would react in that kind of situation. Thank you for the inspiration! 🥺🤌

how would the elves react to this?

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Elrond, Gil-Galad Círdan Version below.

📜 𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓭

Elrond might react to the reader/you swooping in to save them from a perilous situation like being captured by orcs.

The ancient woods of Eregion were silent, the kind of silence that came when predators were near. The golden light of dusk bled through the canopy, staining the forest floor in hues of amber and crimson. The wind barely stirred, as if the trees themselves held their breath. Somewhere within this tranquil facade, chaos brewed. Elrond Half-elven had been captured. The orcs had struck swiftly and without mercy, ambushing him and his small party as they returned from a reconnaissance mission. His guards had fought valiantly but were quickly overwhelmed. Now, bound and bloodied, Elrond knelt in a rough clearing, surrounded by the jeers of his captors. His silver-threaded tunic was torn, his dark hair matted with dirt and blood. Yet, even in this moment of vulnerability, his eyes shone like steel—cold, calculating, and unyielding.

The orcs had made a mistake. They had underestimated him. But even Elrond, for all his cunning, could not see a clear path to freedom. His hands were tightly bound behind him, the ropes cutting into his skin, a reminder of his helplessness. His weapons were gone, and though his mind raced with strategies, every scenario ended the same: with his blood soaking the earth. His pride and experience told him to fight, but in the quiet dark of the clearing, with the weight of captivity pressing down on him, Elrond knew he was out of options. For a fleeting moment, something close to frustration stirred within him—but he quickly pushed it aside. Anger wouldn’t free him, nor would it serve him here. He needed to think, needed to wait, but time was a luxury he no longer had.

The orcs were already bickering over their prize. One particularly large brute brandished a jagged blade and snarled something in their guttural tongue. Elrond didn’t flinch. He met the orc’s gaze with cold detachment, refusing to grant them the satisfaction of his fear. He had seen this before—death in various forms, and in many guises. If this was to be his end, he would meet it with dignity. But even as he steeled himself, he could feel the weight of his impending fate, the very real possibility of this moment being his last. And then, a sound—a faint rustle in the underbrush. The orcs didn’t notice, too consumed by their squabble, but Elrond’s keen ears caught it. His sharp gaze flickered toward the shadows at the edge of the clearing, where the fading light painted shifting patterns on the forest floor. For a moment, his mind raced. Was it a stray animal? A larger threat? No. The movement was too deliberate, too precise, to be mere chance.

A slight shift in the air, a tension, drew his attention fully. He felt a strange spark of hope—a quick, unfamiliar surge, like a breath after being submerged too long. And then, his senses sharpened, pulling his attention entirely to the darkness beyond. Something—or someone—was coming. Someone was there. Someone you. You had tracked the orcs for hours, following the trail of broken branches and spilled blood. When you’d come upon the scene—Elrond bound and surrounded—you hadn’t hesitated. There wasn’t time to formulate a grand plan or to consider the consequences. All that mattered was saving him.

From the shadows, you moved with practiced stealth, each step as quiet as the fall of a leaf. Your hand tightened around the hilt of your blade as you assessed the situation. The orcs were many—more than you’d expected—but their focus on Elrond gave you the element of surprise. It would have to be enough. Your attack was swift. The first orc didn’t even have time to scream before your blade slid across its throat. The second fell just as quickly, your dagger finding its mark in the gap between its armor. By the time the others realized what was happening, you were already upon them, a whirlwind of steel and determination.

Elrond’s head snapped up at the commotion, his sharp gaze locking onto your form as you cut through his captors like a storm. Surprise flashed across his face, quickly replaced by something else—something akin to awe. You moved with a grace that rivaled even the elves, your every strike precise, your every motion purposeful. The orcs snarled and lunged at you, but you were relentless. The clearing erupted into chaos as you danced between them, your blade gleaming in the fading light. One by one, the orcs fell, their cries echoing through the trees. Still, more kept coming, their brute strength and numbers threatening to overwhelm you.

Elrond, though bound and weaponless, wasn’t idle. He twisted his wrists against the ropes, his sharp mind analyzing every detail of the fight. When one orc charged toward you from behind, he shouted, “Behind you!” His voice, commanding even in captivity, gave you just enough warning to sidestep the attack and deliver a killing blow. Finally, the last orc fell, its body hitting the ground with a heavy thud. The clearing was eerily quiet once more, the air thick with the stench of blood. You turned to Elrond, your chest heaving as you hurried to his side.

“Are you hurt?” you asked, your voice breathless but steady. “Nothing that won’t heal,” he replied, his tone calm despite the ordeal. His eyes, however, betrayed the storm of emotions roiling beneath his composed exterior—relief, gratitude, and perhaps a touch of disbelief. You knelt behind him, cutting through the ropes with quick, efficient movements. As the bindings fell away, Elrond flexed his hands, wincing slightly at the raw skin beneath. He rose to his feet with the grace of one who had endured far worse, his imposing presence undiminished by his injuries. “You should not have come for me,” he said, his voice low but firm. “It was reckless.”

“Perhaps,” you admitted, meeting his gaze without flinching. “But I wasn’t about to leave you to them.” For a moment, Elrond said nothing, his piercing gray eyes searching yours. Then, slowly, the corners of his lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “Foolish,” he murmured, almost to himself. “But brave.” Together, you moved through the forest, leaving the carnage behind. Elrond insisted he was fine, though you couldn’t help but notice the way he favored one leg as he walked. When you offered to slow down, he waved you off with a faint smirk. “I am not as fragile as I look.” As night fell, the two of you stopped to rest in a small, sheltered glade. Elrond sat with his back against a tree, his eyes fixed on the stars above. You sat beside him, the silence between you comfortable but charged with unspoken words. Finally, Elrond broke the silence. “You saved my life,” he said, his voice soft. “I do not say this lightly, but I am in your debt.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” you replied. “I did what anyone would do.” “No,” he said, turning to face you fully. “Not anyone. Few would risk their lives for another, let alone against such odds. You have my gratitude—and my respect.” There was a sincerity in his tone that left no room for doubt. For all his wisdom and strength, Elrond was not one to offer his trust easily. Yet, in this moment, he looked at you not as a subordinate or even a savior, but as an equal. As the night deepened and the stars shone brighter, you realized that this moment—shared in the aftermath of danger—was the beginning of something far greater than either of you could have anticipated.

🏵️𝓖𝓲𝓵-𝓰𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓭

Gil-Galad might react to the reader/you swooping in to save them from a perilous situation like being captured by orcs.

The night air was cold, and the sky overhead was shrouded in a blanket of clouds. The dark, twisted trees of Middle-earth seemed to close in, casting ominous shadows across the forest floor. In the heart of the woods, Gil-galad, the High King of the Noldor, stood tall—his regal bearing unshaken, even in the face of danger. The faintest shimmer of starlight glanced off his golden armor as he and his companions prepared for an ambush. His keen silver grey eyes scanned the surroundings, always vigilant, always prepared for what came next. But even the most vigilant of Elven kings could be caught off guard. The attack was swift. Orcs, crawling from the dark crevices of the forest, came at them like a tide. The clash of metal on metal rang out as Gil-galad led his warriors with strength and precision, a beacon of light in the chaos. His movements were fluid, his strikes calculated, but even he was not immune to the overwhelming number of attackers.

In the midst of the fray, one of the Orcs, taller and stronger than the others, launched itself at Gil-galad with terrifying speed. It knocked the King off balance, sending him crashing to the forest floor with a heavy thud. His sword fell from his hand, skidding away into the underbrush. For a fleeting moment, Gil-galad’s breath was knocked from his lungs, his vision blurred from the sudden impact. The sting of the fall reached deep into his ribs, and the sharpness of the pain reminded him that even a King was not invincible. The Orcs closed in, snarling, their eyes gleaming with malice. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears, his pulse quickening as he struggled to regain his bearings. Gil-galad’s gaze sharpened despite the fog of disorientation, his mind already calculating his next move. He rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a blade aimed at his heart. He reached for his sword, but it was too far away. There was a fleeting moment, a brief weakness—something unfamiliar—that passed through him. A flash of helplessness that he rarely allowed himself to feel. It was swiftly buried beneath layers of command and duty, but it lingered just a little longer than he would have liked. Just as the Orcs began to close in, something unexpected happened.

A rush of movement swept through the trees. In a blink, you appeared—your form silhouetted by the faint moonlight that filtered through the canopy above. Without hesitation, you leapt into the fray, your blade flashing like a streak of lightning in the darkness. The battle paused for a brief second as Gil-galad, still on the ground, turned his head in your direction. His heart skipped a beat—not from fear or shock, but from an overwhelming sense of awe. With swift precision, you cut through the nearest Orc, your movements an elegant dance of strength and agility. The creatures fell back, surprised by the sudden turn of events, their snarls turning to fearful hisses. But it wasn’t the Orcs that held Gil-galad’s attention. It was you. Your movements were effortless, your focus unwavering. You cut through their ranks, protecting the King as though you were born for this very moment. Gil-galad’s thoughts raced. He knew his warriors were skilled, but there was something about you—something about the way you moved, the way you fought with such certainty and grace—that left him speechless. A profound sense of gratitude and admiration swelled in his chest.

His breath was still ragged from the fall, but he forced himself to push off the ground, his hand gripping the earth for support. His eyes locked on yours as you cleared the final Orcs with a grace that could only come from an elf with purpose. The moment you turned toward him, your gaze filled with concern, his lips parted to speak, but no words came. For the first time in many long years, the weight of the battle felt distant compared to the relief that flooded him at your presence. He could feel the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, but it was tempered by an undeniable surge of gratitude. You had been there when he faltered—when the weight of the crown, the history of his people, and the perils of the battle had threatened to pull him down. You stepped toward him, your voice calm and steady as you spoke. “Are you injured, my king?” Gil-galad, still shaken but steadying himself, nodded. “I am unharmed, thanks to you.” His voice was low, but the words carried a sincerity that he could not conceal. There was no formality in his words, no regal distance between you. Only an unspoken appreciation. He would have never admitted it aloud, but in that fleeting moment, he felt an unfamiliar vulnerability, one he did not know how to shield himself from.

You bent down to help him, extending your hand. He took it, and as you helped him rise to his feet, a look of quiet admiration crossed his face. For a moment, he simply stood there, his gaze softening as he took in the full depth of your actions. A flicker of something more stirred within him—a warmth he hadn’t felt in ages. But it was the steadiness of your touch, the way you stood by him without hesitation, that left him in awe. The king, ever the leader, found his heart racing not with the weight of his title, but with something far simpler: a respect, perhaps something even deeper, for the one who had stood by him in the face of danger. “You have my deepest gratitude,” he said, his tone rich with meaning. “Without your intervention, I may not have made it out of this alive.” There was a weight in his words—an acknowledgement that, in this chaotic world of shifting alliances and countless battles, your presence had changed everything. He had long borne the weight of his kingdom, the responsibility of leadership, but tonight, that burden had been eased by you.

His eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the world around them faded. The sounds of battle, the crashing of blades, the cries of the fallen—all of it melted away as Gil-galad’s gaze softened. “Your bravery… it does not go unnoticed,” he added, his voice low and earnest. “I will not forget this.” As you stood by him, your hands still holding his, he felt the weight of the moment settle between you both. The connection was undeniable. He had seen countless lives lost in the wars of Middle-earth, witnessed the rise and fall of kingdoms, but in this fleeting moment, he felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time—trust. Perhaps, even something more. The night was still, the threat of the Orcs momentarily forgotten, as the two of you shared a brief but significant moment. It was then that Gil-galad realized the depths of your loyalty—not just as a warrior, but as someone who had saved him not for glory, but for the simple love of what was right. And as he returned to the fight, standing side by side with you, the King’s heart swelled with something he hadn’t expected—hope.

🌊 𝓬í𝓻𝓭𝓪𝓷

Círdan might react to the reader/you swooping in to save them from a perilous situation like being captured by orcs.

The salt-laden air of the Grey Havens stung the skin as the distant waves crashed relentlessly against the shore, their rhythm a cruel backdrop to the chaos unfolding on the docks. The normally serene harbor had become a battlefield, its once tranquil shores stained with the blood of the brave and the wicked alike. Orcs had struck swiftly, their guttural cries mingling with the clang of steel and the roar of flames licking the sky. A boat had been set ablaze, its wreckage casting an eerie glow on the water as smoke swirled into the darkening sky. Círdan, his silver hair flowing behind him like a banner, stood as an unyielding sentinel amidst the chaos. His movements were fluid, a dance of deadly elegance as he cut down the attackers one by one. Despite the ferocity of his strikes, his age was beginning to show. His breath, though steady, came with more effort now, and his movements were slower, less sharp than they had once been. The weight of centuries rested on his shoulders, and though his resolve was unbroken, fatigue crept into his limbs.

The orcs were relentless, and soon he was surrounded. A heavy cleaver struck his sword with a resounding clash, forcing him back against the stone wall of the harbor. The ground beneath his feet was slick, and for a brief moment, Círdan felt the full weight of age and weariness. His heart pounded in his chest, but still he raised his sword, determined to protect his people, to fend off the dark tide. Then, the sound—a rustle in the trees above, so faint it could have been mistaken for the wind. But not to Círdan. His sharp eyes flickered toward the movement, his heart quickening with hope. He knew what it meant. You were here. You had been tracking the orc band for days, following their trail with patience and precision. But when you had seen the smoke rising from the docks, when you had realized that the mighty Shipwright himself was in peril, there was no hesitation. You burst from the shadows, a whirlwind of action and determination. Your blade was already in your hand as you descended from the ridge above the harbor, landing with the grace of a predator.

The first orc never knew what hit it. You moved like lightning, your strike clean and efficient, the orc’s blood spilling across the stones before it even had time to scream. The second orc fared no better, falling at your feet with a single, well-placed blow. Círdan’s blue eyes widened in surprise at the sight of you, the flicker of disbelief in his gaze quickly replaced by something far deeper—recognition, relief, and perhaps even a touch of awe. You had come for him, risking everything to pull him from the jaws of death. “Stay behind me!” you shouted as you moved toward him, your voice firm and unyielding amidst the chaos of battle. For a moment, Círdan hesitated. He had always been the protector, the one to stand between others and danger. But as he saw you cut through the orcs with such deadly precision, the decision was made for him. He gritted his teeth, his sword rising once more to meet the next foe. Together, you formed an unstoppable force, a seamless unity that struck terror into the hearts of the orcs.

The battle raged on, but your combined strength was a force of nature. At one point, a brutish orc captain, wielding a massive axe, charged at you. Círdan saw it coming before you did. Without hesitation, he stepped into the line of fire, his sword parrying the deadly blow that would have otherwise struck you down. The force of the strike rattled him, but his gaze remained as steady as the sea. “You risk much for an old shipwright,” he said, his voice calm even in the midst of the battle. “I’m not leaving you here!” you replied fiercely, spinning to meet another attacker. “Not after all you’ve done for Middle-earth.” For a fleeting moment, Círdan’s expression softened, and his eyes lingered on you with a new respect. Few understood the sacrifices he had made over the centuries, the countless battles fought in the shadows, the weight of leadership that bore down on him. But you—here you were, putting everything on the line for him. And somehow, it stirred something deep within him.

With renewed purpose, you fought side by side, driving the orcs back, step by step, until their resolve shattered. The last of the attackers fell with a guttural cry, their bodies littering the stones of the harbor like discarded refuse. The once-bloody battlefield fell silent. The air was thick with the scent of salt and blood, but the clamor of battle had ceased. Only the gentle lap of the waves against the shore and the distant cries of gulls broke the stillness. Círdan stood beside you, his breath coming in measured, steady bursts. He was still strong, but the toll of the fight had left its mark on him. His cheek was bloodied, a thin cut running across his face, but his posture was unyielding. He looked at you with gratitude and something deeper—an understanding that had not existed between you before.

“You have my thanks,” he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with unspoken emotion. His blue eyes held yours, and for the first time in your presence, he spoke not as a leader, but as a fellow soul who had witnessed your bravery firsthand. “Few would have risked their lives for me. Fewer still would have succeeded.” You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. “You’ve spent centuries helping others, Círdan. It’s about time someone returned the favor.” A small, genuine smile tugged at the corners of his lips, rare and fleeting but filled with warmth. “Then I am fortunate it was you,” he said, his voice low but sincere. As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, casting a soft glow over the harbor, you and Círdan stood side by side, looking out over the water. The battle had been long and fierce, but the bond forged between you in the heat of conflict was even stronger. There was no need for words now. The understanding between you was clear.

Círdan placed a hand on your shoulder, his grip gentle but strong—a silent gesture of respect. “You have the heart of a mariner,” he said softly, his voice carrying the cadence of the sea. “Fearless, steadfast, and loyal. I will not forget this.” And as the light of the new day broke over the Grey Havens, you knew that, in your heart, you had not only saved a life—you had earned the trust and respect of one of Middle-earth’s greatest figures.

[tyrantisterror]

You're welcome! Thank you for being such a willing participant in the interactive side of this story!

And yeah I'll gladly answer some more questions.

So, as I said above, I realized in the process of writing the story that, from a narrative and thematic perspective, this story could not give Sailor a clear and definitive answer to what they are. Even in the ending where they chose to go back to the normal world, we get an answer that convinces Sailor, but still clearly has some holes to the audience. I think there are ways we could have skewed certain conversations to learn more about the hypothetical answers in-story, but it would have come at the cost of key moments of character development for Sailor and Calibani. And I also think it's possible we could have skewed the story in such a direction where giving a definitive answer to the question wouldn't have necessarily hurt the theme of the story, by dint of turning the story into a different theme entirely - a South-heavy story might have focused on Sailor confronting their own inherent selfishness and short-sightedness rather than questions of their identity, for example, while a West-heavy story might have been a more dense and wacky adventure full of foolhardiness where learning who/what Sailor is could happen quickly and definitively without fanfare in order to be pushed aside for more shenanigans. 58 choices - there's a lot of potential what-ifs here.

There would be no way to contact Earth in the story as told, no, just as there wouldn't be a map till the very end. But, like, Sailor is canonically living longer than just the nine or so days the story covers, the Sea of Monsters is big, and Sailor knows a mad scientist. It's possible Sailor finds a way to get a message back to earth at some point - but I guess we'll have to save that for a hypothetical At Sea Without a Map 2: Now With Map!

I generally tried to vote either for the answer I thought would get the most votes, or the one that would get the least, in hopes of not actually affecting the result too much (unfortunately tumblr doesn't let you see the results before the poll ends unless you vote, and for the sake of keeping to a more-or-less daily schedule, I kinda needed to keep an eye on it to know what I'd need to draw during my downtime moments). I think the TT-only version of At Sea Without a Map would have been pretty similar to what we got. We might have spent a bit less time with Calibani and bit more time getting into monster hijinks and drawing exposition about the setting from characters like Dr. Neptune, but otherwise it would have been pretty similar. I had more fun with the player-choices that contradicted my own instincts, though - it was fun being given free reign to just shoot the shit with love interest while ignoring the plot. Very indulgent I do wonder if Sailor might have turned out differently, though - I was very conscious of trying not to flavor things too heavily when Sailor was in my control in the narrative, i.e. when they had to make choices without a compass to set them in a direction. I didn't really start giving Sailor personality in-text until I got a feel for what we were turning them into together, and even then I always felt nervous about it - I never wanted it to feel like I was forcing you all to play a character that wasn't authentic to what you were choosing. This wouldn't be a problem if Sailor was just written by me and me alone, so they might have become something different by dint of me not having to worry about alienating voters with their actions.

At Sea Without a Map Post-Script

After two months of so, my little writing experiment At Sea Without a Map has come to an end. And because I'm vain, I not only felt compelled to share it, but to talk about it in depth after the fact, so here we are. This is going to be long, though, so I'm not only going to break it into sections, but put it all under the cut for the sake of your dashboard. So go ahead and dive into the depths of the Sea of Monsters with me one more time!

Part 1: Never Stop Blowing Up

The writing process of Wizard School Mysteries Book 3 was really strained - not because of the book itself, mind you. When I was actually able to work on it, Book 3 came together really well - I think it required the least substantial rewrites of any my novels thus far. It's just that real life was kind of beating the shit out of me while I was trying to get it done - or maybe the better metaphor was that it was just slowly but steadily draining me of energy all the time. I'm honestly surprised I got the book out in roughly the same amount of time as the first two - by the way life had been treating me, it should have taken longer.

But when I got done with it I was accutely aware of how tired I was. I still had the creative drive, but fuck I needed something simple as a palette cleanser - something easy, and more importantly, something that was allowed to be bad. I needed something creative to do that was surplus to requirements and fully within its rights to suck ass so long as I had fun making it.

Around this time, I decided to rewatch Dimension 20's Never Stop Blowing Up. Brief explanation of what that is: Dimension 20 is an actual play show, i.e. a recording of people playing D&D and other TTRPGs. I'd say its reputation is built on the contrast of its main DM, Brennan Lee Mulligan, who makes these meticulously crafted campaign plans, and his chaotic band of improv comedian players who promptly derail those plans spectacularly. Like, a good deal of the show's humor comes from Emily Ashford or Ally Beardsly doing something so off-the-wall that it shatters whatever the scene was going to be and creates a far more absurd and zany spectacle in its place. Which is why Never Stop Blowing Up is pretty notable, because it's the one campaign where Brennan himself is the agent of chaos, fully unleashing his own brand of madness that the players struggle to keep up with. And fuck does he seem to have fun with it.

Of course, all of the analysis above is purely from the outside looking in - it's likely that a lot of the "chaos" is played up for the audience. But still... there is something to the idea of a person who's been working on meticulously structured stories letting loose and just doing something extremely stupid.

So I decided to give myself a Never Stop Blowing Up moment - a short story that would be simple by design, with no standards to live up to or goal beyond "have fun telling a silly little story." I then came up with a few key criteria:

It can't be set in the Midgaheim/ATOM universe. I don't want the burden of figuring out where this story would fit among others.

It's gotta be a romance. People who've read my books might have picked up on the fact that I like to write about people falling in love, for the same reason I like to write about fire-breathing reptiles and friendly monsters (i.e. I use writing to indulge in things I'll never experience in real life). I've only used romance as subplots in my fiction before, and tend to feel a bit guilty if I focus on it too long - like I'm being self indulgent. Well, this is all about self indulgence, so the romance should be front and center.

It's gotta be SIMPLE, episodic even. Not complex plotting required.

I almost chose my xenomorph romance for this, but I had developed its outline to the point where it would be too complex to fit. I then considered a sort of superhero story that could be pitched as "what if Bringing Up Baby but Katherine Hepburn's character is a Harley Quinn-esque supervillain and Cary Grant's character gets turned into some sort of horrifying genetic mutant in the first ten minutes." That one hit a weird roadblock when I got to the character brainstorming phase (the first phase of any writing project I do) - I was trying to figure out what the mad scientist who turns out Cary Grant-figure into a mutant would be named, came up with the name "Dr. Skullfuck," immediately realized that having a character named "Dr. Skullfuck" is a Mark Millar-ass writing move that I could not allow myself to do, but then couldn't stop thinking of the name "Dr. Skullfuck" and giggling, which just brought all thinking to a grinding halt on that project.

(I'll still probably do it someday, though - just, you know, without Dr. Skullfuck)

Inspiration struck again, though. I'd been getting into Epic: The Musical, a musical retelling of The Odyssey, and it put me in the mood for a sea monster story. But, more than that, it got me thinking about one particular archetype from sea monster stories - but that brings us to the next part of this Post Script...

Part 2: It Was Always About Calibani

Ok, so, one of the big changes Epic: The Musical made involved Odysseus's encounter with the sirens, and before you read more of my rambling, I'd like you to watch two animatics for the two songs in question here:

A summary: one of the sirens takes the form of Odysseus's wife to try and tempt him into getting in the water, Odysseus tricks her into giving him directions, captures her and the rest of her kind, and proceeds to have his men slaughter them horribly. In the OG story the sirens don't die - nor does their song involve imitating a man's wife, for that matter, it's just a really pretty song.

This is done for an important narrative purpose - Epic: The Musical is focused on analyzing the moral ambiguity of Odysseus, and how it is constantly challenged by the impossible choices he is forced to make in his attempt to get home. At this point in the musical, Odysseus has decided to stop trying to be a compassionate man, shirking all mercy in favor of utter ruthless pursuit of his goals. These two songs are meant to be unsettling as hell - this is the beginning of a series of heartless choices by both Odysseus and his men that will culminate in the mutiny and complete annihilation of Odysseus's crew, as well as Odysseus himself being so hopelessly stranded that nothing short of divine intervention will save him.

I bring this up because when I first heard these two songs - specifically while watching these two animatics - it, like... it devastated me. I was so horrified and sad, so shaken by it. And part of it was for the reasons outlined above, but admittedly that wasn't the gut reaction I had. No, my immediate reaction was, and I quoute my own broken brain verbatim here: "You can't kill the sirens! They're not for killing, they're for loving!"

...now, those of you who know me are probably not surprised by this very stupid sentiment coming from me. One of my more popular posts is just me talking about how down bad I would be for various folkloric monsters whose whole shtick is "looks like a pretty lady but Watch Out." But as a person filled with immense self loathing and doubt, my brain immediately looked at that very stupid sentiment I expressed and said, "Wait, no, that's fucking dumb, I'm fucking dumb. The sirens are remorseless murderers. These sirens in particular preyed upon a man's love for his wife, who he has not seen in twelve years, to convince him to let them kill him. They are, by all standards of morality, Very Fucking Evil, and if they were not women you would not feel bad about them getting killed."

And as my brain argued with itself over this topic, I got to thinking about the various monstrous/othered sea women of The Odyssey - not just the sirens, but the witch Circe, the nymph Calypso, the monsters Scylla and Charybdis. And I thought about the others of their kind in other myths and folktales - selkies, mermaids, etc.

There's an archetype of sea monster that focuses entirely on one specific anxiety sailors are prone to, namely the fact that (for a good deal of human history) being on a boat meant spending a lot of time away from women. The horror of this monster is how it uses that desire for female company to tempt people into danger - like a mirage, it leads you to expose yourself to danger in pursuit of an illusory comfort.

But, unlike real world mirages, these monstrous sea women DO exist in their stories. More than that, they're often, like, sad and lonely. Their narrative purpose is just to be a temptation, but that doesn't change the fact that they do have lives of their own in these worlds. And, softie that I am, I can't help feeling sad for them, especially the ones who actually seem to want the same companionship the sailors they tempt want. Sailors don't stay with their Circes, they don't marry their Calypsos. The sirens live on a barren rock, alone, Scylla is left to wallow in misery at her monstrous form, and the selkie always has to leave for fear of being trapped by a person who won't love her on her terms.

I realized I had my hook for this simple, easy, silly little sea monster romance story: I was going to give a sea woman the happy ending she'd never get from anyone else.

Sailor may be the protagonist, but make no mistake: At Sea Without a Map was always, always, ALWAYS about Calibani.

The goal with Calibani was simple: I was going to set up a fairly standard Monstrous Sea Woman, but where other stories would let her be in one episode of the travel narrative and move on, this one would stick around. She'd be an unambiguous predator of human beings - an open and admitted maneater - but she would have no true malice to her. She, like all predators, eats what she can get to survive, and it just so happens that she's adapted to eat humans. And the story would pose the same question to the reader that my brain posed to me during Different Beast: is there any way you could make a siren-style sea monster sympathetic? Can you make a normal person who doesn't have my particular brain rot look at a maneating siren and think, "You're not supposed to kill her, you're supposed to love her!"

One of the few unavoidable plot points of At Sea Without a Map was that Calibani and Sailor's relationship would become romantic. What kind of romance it was could have varied substantially - it could have been one-sided, it could have been toxic, it could have been far more tragic OR far more comedic. But it was always, always going to be a romance of some sort - the goal of this experiment was to make you, the reader, love Calibani. All else was icing on the cake.

I decided to base Calibani's personality on Miranda from The Tempest - i.e. a sweet girl who is both wordly and naive, who understands the strange setting of our "lost at sea" story far better than the audience viewpoint character does, but views the mundane world of the audience viewpoint character with wonder and naiveté. In fact I almost named her Miranda outright... except I already had a character in the setting I chose for this story who had that name, and as an allusion to the same Shakespearean character no less. So I settled on naming her after Miranda's adoptive sibling (of sorts), Caliban - more fitting in some ways, as Caliban is a fish-human hybrid who is arguable more native to the magic island in The Tempest than Miranda herself.

(Calibani isn't the only Tempest name homage, either - her mother, Sycorax, takes her name directly from Caliban's unseen but oft-spoken of witch mother. Dr. Antonia Warefore takes her first name from Antonio, one of the human villains in The Tempest who hopes to use being lost at sea as a way to perform a coup. And the mothman Iriel takes her name from Ariel, the wind spirit in The Tempest who aids the wizard Prospero in controlling the magic island. If Sailor has a "real" name, it's probably either Ferdinand or Miranda, the two lovers who manage to blend civilization and the wilderness together with their romance.)

Visually, I wanted Calibani to not be any common archetype of sea monster woman, but rather something that evokes the popular images while still being her own thing. She's not a mermaid or a siren or a selkie - she's basically "what if a sea serpent was also a girl." In-universe, she's chubby because she, like all marine megafauna, needs blubber to survive. Out-of-universe, she's chubby because I've found that routinely drawing cute chubby girls is good for my mental health.

Part 3: CYOA

Now, while we live in a post-Muncher society where shame and cringe are emotions only the cowardly should experience, I am nonetheless Very Catholic about expressing my own feelings of, like, liking girls and shit. I cannot help feeling guilty when publicly expressing adoration of women without, like, an excuse - it's gotta be a joke or something, you know? I can't be genuine about it, or else Jesus will beat me with a cane for disrespecting women with my lecherous gaze.

But luckily I've cultivated a loyal audience of fellow monsterfuckers, which meant I had an excuse lined up: if I made this a choose your own adventure type deal, a story with audience participation, then you all would be my accomplices. And Jesus can't cane all of us! He doesn't have enough hands! I found a loophole bigger than his stigmata!

Plus I love collaborative story-telling - there's a thrill in not having total control of where the narrative is going. As Brennan Lee Mulligan must know, there's a joy in having to deal with the chaos thrown your way by letting others grab the figurative ball, even if just for a moment.

Part 4: Offbeat Melody

Since I did not want to set this story in Midgaheim, I decided to steer myself away from a vaguely medieval setting altogether. But I also didn't want to limit myself with the need for "realism" that putting it in a normal sea would require, and making a new setting whole cloth would start pushing this project into "not easy" territory.

Luckily, I had a setting lying around that I hadn't played with in a while, which just so happened to have a location that was PERFECT for the sort of Never Stop Blowing Up style madness I was aiming for. For a few years I ran a Monster of the Week TTRPG campaign called Offbeat Melody, and one of its core setting elements was taking the goblin universe hypothesis in paranormal science (yeah it's a real hypothesis) to an illogical extreme. We had specifically seen glimpses of the Sea of Monsters in Offbeat Melody, i.e. the parallel universe where monsters like Nessie, Ogopogo, Champ, and the like all hail from. Well, why not have a whole story set there? It's literally a universe devoted solely to creating sea monsters - what better place to strand our modern Odysseus?

Offbeat Melody was always sort of a Never Stop Blowing Up project, or at least NSBU adjacent. Some of my most unhinged story-telling moments are in that campaign - you could make a supercut of just the "commercial breaks" in the various sessions and it'd basically be an I Think You Should Leave episode. Taking one obscure corner of its multiversal world and exploring it in detail was perfect for this project.

Part 5: Monster by Monster

With our main romance as sorted out as could be for a CYOA story, it was time to figure out the "episodes" of this sea voyage. I settled on there being ten to roughly align with The Odyssey - just in terms of number, mind you, not in a one-to-one comparison. The first was, obviously, Calibani herself, which left nine more slots for me to fill with monsters. Let's go through them together in brief:

Tree Storks - any lost at sea story eventually has to get its protagonist into an island at some point, but this immediately begs the question, "Why don't they just stay on the island where it's safe?" The answer to that question has to be, "it's not safe there, actually." The Odyssey does this quickly and cleverly with a one two punch: the first island seems safe until you realize the food on it brainwashes you into forgetting everything except your desire to eat it, and the second island is full of delicious sheep but also giants who will eat you just as easily as they eat the sheep. When other islands show up in the story later, you immediately regard them with suspicion, because you don't know HOW they're going to be fucked up, but they definitely will be. My goal with the second episode was to establish the same sort of danger - that land is NOT safe, that islands WILL be fucked up and dangerous in ways you might not expect.

I also wanted to establish that this is not just a sea of monsters, but a very WEIRD sea of WEIRD monsters. It couldn't be any old monster on this island - it had to be one that was unique, unexpected, and maybe just a bit silly while still being menacing.

I've always felt that there's a lot of un-mined horror potential in storks, cranes, and herons - any bird with a long neck and spear-like beak it uses to stab smaller creatures from above. Just imagine yourself in a frog's place in the world - tiny, going about your business, when suddenly something shoots down at you from above and impales you before you even feel the shadow fall over your face. Or perhaps you did see the shadow - some of these birds spread their wings to create shade specifically to attract fish, and then spear the poor little bastards.

Well, what do people often look to islands for when out at sea? Shade - the shade of a palm tree. And palm fronds kinda resemble feathers, don't they? Wouldn't it be both ludicrous and terrifying is there was a stork big enough to mimic a palm tree - and wouldn't that be a DEVIOUS trap for a sun-drenched sailor to fall for? So the Tree Storks were born.

The Globster - I made a list of sea monster archetypes in the early planning for this project, and one I wanted to include was a kraken, i.e. some sort of tentacled sea beast. But I didn't want to do JUST a big squid or octopus, or even a riff on them. I wanted to take the idea of "big sea monster with lots of tentacles" into a stranger direction.

Since the Sea of Monsters is explicitly the home universe of lake and sea monster cryptids, I thought it might be fun if ASWaM's kraken equivalent was a globster - just a big ball of rotten meat. I love drawing monstrous faces, so I decided it'd just be, like, MADE of hideous rotten faces, all melting and congealing together, with its tentacles doubling as the tongues of its many mouths. A perfectly wretched image that, like the Tree Storks, would do well to establish how Fucked things could get in this setting. Plus similar monsters had appeared in Offbeat Melody, which would make for a fun sense of familiarity for the, like, five or so readers of mine who had listened to that campaign before.

Captain Peter & the Dolphin - Another thing I did in the early planning stages of this project was make a list of the different sea voyage stories I know and love, the most contentious of which is The Life of Pi. That's a story that I love on a literal level but kind of hate on a figurative level - its whole theme/message is that doubt is the worst thing you can have, that if you don't commit to believing something with zealous conviction you are a coward. As a person who thinks doubt is valid, that "I don't know" is sometimes the ONLY truly valid answer to a question, I have issues with that message.

But I can't help loving the beautifully ludicrous idea of a non-anthropomorphic tiger sailing the ocean on a big Odyssey of its own. Like, if that story didn't actively hate me for being agnostic, it would be one of my favorites.

So I decided to, you know, just steal the idea of a tiger Odysseus. The tiger in The Life of Pi is named Richard Parker. Richard Parker also happens to be the name of Peter Parker's dad. Hence we get Captain Peter - the figurative son of Richard Parker, if you will. And to ratchet up the absurdity of a tiger Odysseus, I made him a pirate and the sole sailor of his voyage. Somehow, this tiger has manned a boat on his own.

Captain Peter was intended to be the hero of another story - a sign for the readers that it IS possible for a stranded person (or, in this case, tiger) to survive out here. To that end, he had to rescue our heroes from another threat, but not one that would be interesting enough to take the focus off of the tiger pirate. Originally I planned for that threat to just be a big shark, but I ended up liking my shark design too much to put it in a role that small, so I quickly designed a nasty dolphin for the role instead. I think that worked out well, honestly.

Dr. Neptune - Episodes 5 and 6 were the mid-point of this journey, so I wanted the two monsters of those to escalate things significantly. I figured episode 5 was probably a good place to FINALLY give some meaningful exposition on what was going on, and there are a lot of stories about mad scientists doing weird shit on islands in my big list of sea voyage stories I love. So we get Dr. Neptune, a classical brain-in-a-jar mad scientist who's affable enough to give more-or-less accurate exposition but loony enough to be a problem. This also felt like a good spot to remind the reader that Calibani is not just a girl with a tail but rather a Sea Monster herself, and one that we'd been making stronger by allying with.

With his human-but-not-quite nature and cyclops eye, Dr. Neptune could sort of be seen as the Polyphemus of this story, couldn't he?

The Crocodisle - One of the sea monster archetypes on my list was "the island that's actually a sleeping monster," of which there are many in mythology and folklore. My favorite is the Jasconius from the voyage of St. Brendan, mainly because it's more or less benign and actually comes back to help St. Brendan and his crew at the end of the story. I always love when I can find an old story with a friendly monster in it.

When thinking of my own spin on the island monster concept, I remembered the only Magic the Gathering card I had as a kid, which I still have and love to this day: The Sandbar Crocodile. This card already inspired Crocogon's color scheme in The Atomic time of Monsters, but I felt I could go to that well again one more time, and so made a crocodile that wasn't just a sandbar, but a whole damn island to itself. And, like Jasconius, it turns out he's pretty chill.

I did not think of the pun name "Crocodisle" until I was actually writing the chapter in question.

The Femdom Mermaids - These three were a late addition to the roster. When I had Calibani bring up mermaids early in the story, I realized as soon as I wrote her rant about them that we'd HAVE to meet some later on in the story.

The readers had significantly shaped Calibani and Sailor's romance by this point, and I decided that it could be useful to have a chapter that was devoted to showing definitively how these two were good for each other. I thought the mermaids could provide a good contrast: have them act out a seemingly more benign take on the monstrous sea women trope (they abduct our hero to protect and care for them!) only for it to quickly feel MORE deranged than Calibani's comparatively simple desire just to eat him.

The spirit of Calibani's rant about mermaids was taken from weird* girls I knew in high school complaining about cheerleaders, so I wanted the mermaids to look like the sea monster equivalent of popular kids to Calibani's chubby weird girl. Two of them got the names of famous beauties - Helyne = Helen of Troy, Clio = Cleopatra.

(*when I say "weird" I mean it in a complimentary and affectionate sense)

Bob, meanwhile, kinda... rebelled, I guess? Before I had names for them, I listed "bob" by her as just, like, a descriptor for her hair cut, but then I liked it as her name, and once she was named Bob she became more than just a mean popular girl. She was a weirdo too, the little punching bag of the two mean popular girls who did their dirty work and smiled through their abuse because hey, at least they included her. It gave the trio an easily defined dynamic, helped make two of the three more visibly nasty, and gave us comic relief in an arc that could very well have gotten too uncomfortable otherwise.

And I guess it worked - readers REALLY loved Bob, and were very vocal about it, and I realized mid-arc that I had accidentally made her too likable to just leave in this arc. So Bob got to be rescued from her awful friend group thanks to readers like YOU.

Lord Ironteeth - yeah, this was the shark that was too cool to be a minor threat. When I drew his noggin, I realized he would need a chapter of his own, one with gravitas. I decided he'd specifically be the threshold guardian -once we beat him, we'd know for sure how to get home, even if there were a few more threats in store.

Spindle Inc and Sycorax - when I was a kid I used to have this recurring nightmare about being on some sort of underwater sea station that had this huge sea serpent trapped inside it. I'd look at the sea serpent from a window within the station and see it coiling in its tank, only for it to look at me with fury. In that glance I would suddenly realize two things with absolute clarity: first, it was going to break free and kill everyone, and second, we deserved that destruction for what we had done to it. The terror of the dream was less that the sea serpent was going to break free, and more the guilt of knowing that all the mayhem that was about to unfold was our fault to begin with.

I thought that would be fun to homage with the penultimate chapter of this story. OBVIOUSLY the sea serpent was Calibani's mom, obviously the trauma of its capture was why Calibani grew into a predator that specializes in hunting humans, obviously we would have to free the sea serpent despite that running counter to Sailor's goal of getting home. Easy, easy, easy plot point to include.

Spindle, Inc. is the primary antagonistic force in Offbeat Melody, so they easily slotted into the role of the arrogant humans who captured this monster for nefarious and selfish motives. They could tie a lot of other plot threads together too - Dr. Neptune was a scientist who worked for them as a contractor only to get screwed over (i.e. they stranded him in the Sea of Monsters, expecting him to die, and then used his research to make their own base of operations in it), we'd learn of him through a spindle briefcase left behind by some unfortunate rogue agent who got eaten by the Globster while he was trying to escape, hell they could even be one of the possible origins of Sailor themself (more on that later). Very useful villains, Spindle.

The Abyssal Mother - I knew the last sea monster would need a lot of punch to it. I briefly considered just a big whale - the Moby Dick to Spindle's corporate Ahab - but it felt underwhelming after all that came before. So I went for arguably the most dramatic possible sea monster, a full on Cthulhu-style elder god. If you're a frequent follower of this blog, you might know I have particularly high standards for Eldritch Abominations, so I realized this was going to be a pretty big challenge for me to live up to, and decided to keep the cthulhu in question reserved to the last few entries as a result - the less it appears, the less it has to live up to.

I realized I had a good angle when my experiments with the Cthulhu "squid for a head" concept ended up having a face framed in shadow - you know, the same visual that our protagonist has in most appearances. That provided some very juicy parallels between the two that made this final monster feel particularly noteworthy to me, ones that I'll leave you to ponder, since they tie into...

Part 6: Themes

I did not set out to have a theme in this story. I just wanted to make a sailor and a sea monster kiss. That was my only goal.

But I really don't begin with theme in ANY of my writing. I figure out topics I want to address, but for all my novels I feel like the themes didn't start coming together until about halfway through the first draft, when enough of the elements of the story had been set down and interacted with each other enough for me to realize what I was saying with them. A huge part of my second and third drafts for my novels have focused on making the themes of my stories more concrete and unified.

Well, ASWaM is very much a first draft of a story, but it's a simple enough story that I think the theme found itself pretty well despite lacking subsequent drafts to refine it.

ASWaM is about doubt and direction. It's about being adrift in a world that is in many ways hostile by nature, about not feeling like you're where you're supposed to be or even WHO you're supposed to be, and about setting off aimlessly in the hope that maybe you'll find your way to that mythical land of "what my life is supposed to be."

When I began the story, Sailor had amnesia and wore clothes that obscured their identity as a way to make it easier for anyone to step into Sailor's role. Sailor had to feel like You, the Reader, and so we don't know their name, their gender, their eye color, their hair color, even their skin color (note that their hands are always wearing gloves, and their face is always in shadow).

But it also meant Sailor is, well, undefined, at least at the start of the story. Sailor doesn't know who they are, what they are, how they came to be. Sailor feels distinctly that they should be Something Else, should be Somewhere Else, should be Someone Else, should not be who/what/where they are. Sailor is plagued by doubt, by a need to go in a different direction, by a need to be other than they are.

This initially contrasts with Calibani, who begins the story very confident that she is doing exactly what she was designed to be doing and acting exactly like she should be. As they interact, they begin to shift each other in opposite directions - Calibani questions her existence and nature, sometimes to a self destructive degree, and Sailor begins to find something about who and where they are that they like. They find a healthy middle ground together - doubtful enough to want to be better people, but with love for themselves that allows them to not feel the need to up-heave their lives entirely.

I knew at the start that I would build an expectation for there to be some answer to the question of who Sailor is and where they came from, because those are the questions that begin the whole narrative. I brainstormed a number of answers to those questions, but once I got a few chapters into writing the story and saw this theme of doubt developing, I realized I couldn't answer them. From a thematic standpoint, the doubt HAD to remain. So I gave hints to possible answers, bits of evidence to support the possibility of them being true, but never planted a smoking gun that answered it for sure.

Sailor can't know the answer because NONE of us know the answer. Outside of blind Life of Pi style faith, you cannot know for sure that you are living the life you're supposed to live. All you can do is figure out whether you're happy with the life you've got, or if you need a change. Sailor will never know who they are supposed to be, but they did learn who they are, and they love that person now.

For those curious, the possible Sailor origins are:

Occam's Razor: they're exactly what Dr. Neptune theorized, i.e. a human who got stranded in the Bermuda Triangle (or the Devil's Triangle or any other number of paranormal triangles) and fell into the Sea of Monsters. The trauma of that experience gave them amnesia. It's just brain damage and bad luck.

A Spindle Experiment: Dr. Warefore mentions that Spindle has been trying to find a way to make a human who can evolve like the denizens of the Sea of Monsters. Sailor may well be an attempt to do just that, perhaps one they wrote off as a failure and abandoned (they do that a lot)

A Deep One: Sailor is the offspring of one of the denizens of the Sea of Monsters (most likely the Abyssal Mother herself) who has somehow been tricked into believing they are human, to the point where they seem to be human to everyone else, even other monsters. Maybe a human summoned a sea monster to breed with on earth, and Sailor ended up being subconsciously drawn back to the Sea by their blood. Maybe Sailor never actually lived on earth at all, but was only made to THINK they had as part of the transformation into a human.

The Platonic Ideal of a Sailor: the Sea of Monsters is full of archetypal concepts, and arguably a sailor trying to find their way home is just as archetypal as any sea serpent, mermaid, or kraken. Our only proof that humans aren't native to the Sea of Monsters is Dr. Neptune, and he's not as reliable an expert as he claims to be.

This theme of doubt and direction also made the compass more important to the narrative than a simply mechanic for audience participation - a compass, after all, gives direction, and the feeling that Sailor is not where they're supposed to be, that they need to head in a different direction, is ultimately the catalyst of the plot. The compass is, in many ways, the antagonist of the story - the force that keeps Sailor from accepting themself. I realized this a little after I started making the different directions have personalities - initially they just represented broad concepts (North = follow conventional wisdom ala the North Star, South = preserve your short-term self interest at all costs, East = act with curiosity and be willing to take calculated risks, and West = throw caution to the wind and do anything that seems novel and exciting), but over time they became little characters themselves.

Since it was our thematic antagonist, I decided to pepper in some ideas about what the compass might be in-universe - and, in a move that would no doubt frustrate the compass, we also don't know for sure which of those is "correct." Is the compass a poltergeist, some amalgamation of dead sailors who try to steer other lost souls home? Is it a malign entity that leeches off of those desperate enough to seek its aid, living through them while pretending to aid them? Is it a device Spindle made to lure sailors to their clutches, OR to guide their experiments in human/monster hybrids? Was it a cursed item that forced a sea monster to assume a human shape? Who can say - the compass sure can't, it can only tell you a direction to go in.

Part 7: Q&A

Since this was an interactive story, I felt it was only fitting to add one last interactive element to this post-script write up, and some of your happily obliged me by sending in questions.

When I noticed how fast readers were falling for Calibani, I figured there was a good chance we'd end up staying in the Sea of Monsters. By chapter 7, I figured it was more or less a given, and by the end of the Lord Ironteeth encounter I was almost 100% sure Sailor would remain at sea. There was always a chance, though - while a look at the polls shows that the audience got more and more on the same page towards the end, there were always dissenting voices, and the desire to get an answer to the question of Who Sailor Was remained strong, as a number of people kept trying to find angles where they could get that AND stay with Calibani.

I was surprised early on by how easily the audience fell in love with Calibani, to the point where I made a few posts commenting on it. I mean, I shouldn't have been - as I said earlier, I have cultivated an audience of fellow monsterfuckers on here, and I know at least a few of them saw my bait and knew they could get me to be freaky in a way we found mutually agreeable (thank you all again for helping me escape being caned by Jesus for being horny).

Like, we REPEATEDLY ignored developing the plot in the Tree Storks chapter for several days just to spend more time with Calibani - something that I enjoyed immensely (this whole thing was an excuse for me to write and draw a cute chubby sea monster girl as much as possible aftter all) but also knew as a storyteller was not what most would consider a good story call. I like how it turned out, but it defied conventional narrative wisdom, you know? I was surprised.

On the other side of the coin, I was also surprised by how the audience NEVER chose an option that was humorously disastrous. I gave plenty of them, and, like, generally in collaborative storytelling there will be at least one moment where your collaborators decide to do the really, REALLY stupid thing that makes everything spiral out of control really quickly. I figured at least once the audience would choose the troll response, but no, you guys worked hard to keep Sailor and Calibani alive. You refused to let them hurt each other, refused to let them throw themselves into danger, refused to imperil them for your own chuckles. It was very sweet and unexpected.

I say "you refused" but to be fair it's not like NO ONE voted for the troll options - they generally got a handful of votes, just one that was beaten by a landslide of more reasonable options. Hopefully those of you who voted for the troll options enjoyed Bob throwing you a bone by disintegrating Dr. Warefore - that was my consolation prize to you.

Yes. I knew at the beginning that there would be two endings for this story: either Sailor leaves the Sea and goes home, or Sailor stays there forever. Or, you know, Sailor dies as a result of you guys choosing several stupid options in a row, but as stated above you guys avoided those scenarios pretty decisively.

Had Sailor gone home, the following would have occurred: first, they would forget everything that happened in the Sea of Monsters. Second, they would wake up in a hospital, having been found in the Atlantic Ocean by a human-recovery charity run by... oh, isn't that funny, some tech company named Spindle Inc! Spindle would foot the medical bills and even offer Sailor a job, but Sailor would decline because even now they're still not sure what Spindle even does. Sailor would go back to their life and find it familiar and utterly mundane, but not particularly happy. Their father died when they were 18, their mother was never in the picture, they have no siblings. They worked an office job and were sort of a nonentity - that position has long since been filled, but Sailor gets a new job and lives out much the same life: simple, mundane, dreary. Every now and then they get a pang of desire to leave, to go to sea, but they push it out of mind. They never even see the ocean again as long as they live.

Sailor would have gotten the normal life they thought they were supposed to have, the normal memories and name and identity, the mundane life of a normal person. And they just had to trade everything they found in the Sea of Monsters to get it. A question is answered, a direction is followed, but is it the right answer, the right direction?

Well, I think doubt would have remained.

I had a very vague idea for there to be some sort of man-eating giant in, like, a crystal castle. He got cut to make way for the mermaids.

I wanted to fit in a big whale and a giant crustacean, but there wasn't room or an interesting angle for me to want to make room for them. Saved for a possible sequel, I suppose.

I also wanted to have a scene with, like, DOZENS of sea monsters, including some of the ones from Offbeat Melody, but the goal of "this should be EASY you dumbass" made me kill that idea pretty quick.

Thank you!

The primary inspirations were:

The Odyssey and Epic: the Musical

The voyage of St. Brendan

The many "weird shit happens on an island" movies in Toho's filmography, i.e. Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster, Son of Godzilla, Yog Monster of the Deep, Matango, etc.

The Island of Dr. Moreau

The Boy and the Heron

Ponyo (specifically Ponyo's parents - I wanted Sailor to have the same desperate energy as that wizard who fucks the giant sea goddess)

The Life of Pi

Slay the Princess (perhaps most obvious in the use of second person narration, multiple voices in the protagonist's head, and falling in love with a creature that has tried to kill you at least once)

I'm going to use this to springboard to a related point in a second, but first a genuine yet humorous answer: Yes, absolutely yes, I am enough of a big romantic sap that I would give everything about my life away to be with a person who loves me and explore a world of monsters in a heartbeat. Hell, I would have jumped in the water the minute Calibani asked and died with her fangs in my neck and a smile on my face. I am dumb this way. Do not follow my example.

On that related point, though... Most stories like this, I daresay ALL stories like this that I know of, end with the hero abandoning the fantasy world in favor of reality, never to return. And that seems like the proper choice and lesson on the surface - we don't want to tell audiences to give up their real life in favor of a fantasy, after all. That's encouraging escapism, and that's not healthy!

But, like... textually speaking, the fantastical world IS real to the characters in these stories. And it's often not really an escape - was Sailor's life devoid of conflict and suffering in the Sea of Monsters? Fuck no! It's just that they figured out how to deal with that conflict and suffering - they built skills and a support system, they adapted, they learned how to overcome what was there.

I think it can be argued that sometimes the return to a "normal" world is, in itself, an escape - the idea that your life can spiral into chaos but that's ok, you can just reset everything and go back to The Way It Was and Should Be is just as unrealistic and unhealthy an idea as You Should Escape to A Better World. Sometimes your plans for your life fall apart, sometimes you're thrown into a place you never intended to go, sometimes you have to learn skills you never anticipated needing and ally with people you never thought you'd befriend to deal with problems you never dreamed you'd have to overcome. And sometimes it's ok to look at your derailed life, your Not Where You Should Be life, and say, "Well, I've learned how to live here... maybe I can stay."

Especially if there's a cute chubby sea monster girl who loves you.

Bob was never supposed to appear past chapter 7, but about halfway through that chapter I realized the audience and I myself would be heartbroken if we didn't rescue her. Definitely for the best - she provided some well-needed comic relief in the final chapters.

This is gonna sound snarky, but, yeah - there were 58 choices with four options a piece, and we only chose one of the four. While some of the options would have similar results, almost none would have had identical outcomes. And some would have been VERY different.

Like, to go back to the beginning: when Calibani attacked, we could either throw a net on her, harpoon her, try to drive around her, or hide below deck. We picked the net, but for the other three options:

Harpooning would result in us hitting her in the thigh, causing her enough pain that she collapses on our deck and we, horrified at the violence we committed, just sort of push on. Calibani would be wounded for at least the next chapter, perhaps longer, and significantly weaker (and probably harboring a great deal of hidden resentment while also being genuinely scared of Sailor). She would be vulnerable during the stork attack, forcing Sailor to take a more active role in that chapter.

Trying to steer around her would result in us essentially fighting her with our boat, resulting in the boat capsizing and Calibani getting tangled up in it. We'd wake up alone on Stork Island and have to travel in search of our boat, alone and vulnerable among man-eating trees. We'd run into Calibani again, also beached and in trouble, end up recruiting her to help us get our boat out of the sand.

Hiding below deck would end in a sea storm that leaves us inside our boat as it's beached on Stork Island. We'd fend off the storks alone, and run into Calibani once we get our boat out to sea, as she got away more or less unscathed.

All of these would have majorly changed the trajectory of our relationship with Calibani and our identity as Sailor, despite seeming to have the same component parts on the surface. Now account for how similarly slight changes in the other options could have gone, and we could have had a very different story indeed.

Part 8: Our Girl

I just think she's neat!

[a-lonely-tatertot]

A very goofy idea i had based off a bit from the early episodes where dakota grabbed william while running they said he waved like a flag in the air for @anxious-mess19 for the @jrwi-art-exchange :D

[catastrxblues]

EVERMORE by taylor swift (feat. bon iver) — “and i was catching my breath, floors of a cabin creaking under my step. and i couldn’t be sure, i had a feeling so peculiar, this pain wouldn’t be forevermore.”

my #swiftiegiftexchange2024 for @lovesickallovermybed!!!! 🫶🏽🫶🏽

[marshmallowloves]

@rosepetalmoon to answer your question of "Bruce x Sierra & Raymond x Rose double date when" now. now is when.

like I said before I think they would find each other insufferable kdjfg

(also I didn't really. know what you'd wear here asdfg so I just put you in a cute little cardigan thing, I hope I got your sona (mostly) right--)

[stormyoceans]

I'm sorry cause I have no idea if you already talked about it or if you'd even like to but I'm so in love obsessed with your 100 shows for js and I'm just back from watching titanic so please tell me there's a titanic au anywhere in there cause palakdjufcyhfudjsnapsifhvuvhsk I need it. Jimmy as the rich heir that has to board a ship so he may inherit his father's millions and marry a stranger. who feels trapped and hopeless and sea (I mean come in the NAME ALONE -) who's on the ship by sheer dumb luck with maybe 2 pennies to his name and charcoal on his fingertips and shows Jimmy what it means to be alive and 2 days into the journey the ship fucking sinks. IM INSANE ABOUT IT

(maybe mostly as an excuse to put sea into the white shirt and suspenders look this time around but shhhhhh no one has to know)

I DO NOT HAVE A TITANIC AU IN MY 100 JIMMYSEA SERIES LIST (YET) BUT MAYBE I ACTUALLY NEED TO COME UP WITH AN IDEA FOR IT BECAUSE YOU DO MAKE SOME VERY COMPELLING ARGUMENTS

i've also really been wanting to have a story featuring sea as a painter, so this could fit quite nicely!!!! my only concern about this is that i don't want to just replicate the exact same plot as the movie, i want to try to put a different spin on it, which in this particular case probably means changing the ending because i simply cannot do tragedies IM SORRY OKAY I REALLY AM BUT WE ONLY DO HAPPY ENDINGS IN THIS HOUSE

and i might have an idea for this, but im afraid it's possibly way too overdramatic and kinda soap oper-y, so im gonna need you to be brutally honest and tell me what you think about it

the premise is pretty much the same: it's around the 1920s, and as an only son, jimmy is supposed to inherit the family’s land and marry well, so his father arranges a marriage between him and the daughter of a wealthy english man for trade purposes or something like that. after the wedding the pairing is supposed to live in thailand, so the families agree to travel together to england before the ceremony to.. idk experience both cultures? let the daughter see her country one last time and say goodbye to it? let's say both. on the ship board jimmy, both of his parents with a couple of servants, the woman he's supposed to marry, her brother, and her father

neither jimmy or his future wife are particularly happy about the arrangement, but jimmy is willing to do it because of his sense of duty. it's not like he believes in love, anyway. enter sea, a broke artist who decides to try his luck in england after winning a ticket for the ship. the story does follow the movie from here on out, although i can't see jimmy and sea meeting in the way rose and jack do, just because im imagining a different dynamic between them (as in, i think that they would dislike each other at first and that they would bicker a lot because of their different worldviews, but that's what keeps pulling them in)

ANYWAY. the point is: they meet, they eventually fall in love (it's a long journey from thailand to england, so let's say the sinking doesn't happen after only two days), the brother of the woman jimmy is supposed to marry realizes that there's something between them and tries to frame sea for theft, the ship hits.. SOMETHING (is there a place where there could be icebergs in that route idk), the ship sinks, jimmy comes out of it convinced that sea is dead so he goes on with the marriage, mostly out of guilt because jimmy's father also died

EXCEPT!!!!!!! some years later, after jimmy and her wife finally have a daughter, as a present for the newborn one of their friends hires one of thailand most famous artists to paint a portrait of the family, AND GUESS WHO THAT IS!!!!!!!!! that's right, it's sea!!!!!! he actually survived and did try to find jimmy after recovering, but jimmy was already married by then and the wife's brother saw him and convinced him to let jimmy go for jimmy's own good

so now it's a big mess because jimmy resents sea (first because he thinks sea didn't try to find him, then because sea made the choice for him), and sea resents jimmy (for marrying anyway even if it was all fake), and they're both pretending they have moved on when it's very much not true. and in my head there's also a whole thing about the wife's brother inheriting the family's fortune and splurging it all, so he's actually living on his sister and jimmy's money, which is why he needs them to be together (but his sister is also maybe in love with her handmaid)

ALL THIS TO SAY THAT THE STORY ENDS WITH JIMMYSEA + JIMMY'S WIFE AND HER HANDMAIDEN TOGETHER AND THE FOUR OF THEM BECOMING A BIG FAMILY AND RAISING THE CHILD WHILE THE BROTHER ROTS IN JAIL OKAY BYE

[yesyourstalker]

Neta: ok everything is set up. Just a couple interviews. Warabi!

Warabie: hmmmmmm

Neta: warabie

Warabie: hmmm what?

Neta: I need you to manage for a little until Mahi comes in. I forgot they had orientation today and they had no time to reschedule everyone. (Clap clap) [Signing] Seth, I know you have four clients scheduled today for piercing. Help warabie when you're able to.

Seth: cool

Warabie: hmmm My stomach still hurts from the tattoo and it's still healing.

Neta: *sigh* then sit down or lean across the counter. I don't know what you want me to do. You shouldn't have gotten that if you can't handle the pain yet.

Seth: I told you it wasn't good to do it all in one sitting, I could have scheduled you for another session. But I have to say you did take it like a champ

Neta: I have no time to argue with you I have interviews I have to get to. If someone asks for an interview to send them to the back of the office.........

___________________ interview one_______________

Neta: so what would be your greatest strength?

Naomi [inkling]: uhhhhh...ummm.... I ....I'm regsijtfh

Neta:....I'm sorry can you repeat that.....

Naomi: uh.....I'm.........................hm

Neta: take your time I'm in no rush.......... It says here on your resume that you're an artist you intern at inkpin publishing you worked on several mangas. That's pretty impressive want to tell me about that?

Naomi: uh....uhhhhh..........I'm sorry......[ Leaves]

Neta: oh.... wait! Uh...ok...*sigh* She left her phone. She'll be back maybe she calms down.. we can get somewhere.

_________________Interview two__________________

Neta: where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Vinny [betta fish] definitely not in prison again hahaha! Uhh ohh shit ummm.... Being serious in 5 years? Maybe a manager or an assistant manager of this store.

Neta: really? Ok.... You used to work in a kitchen

Vinny: it was more like a cafeteria but yeah I used to prepare the food I actually made the menus for the week. See I used to tell the corrections offic-uhhhh- I mean my head manager what they needed to order for the week so I can get my team to learn the recipes and to make them meals.

Neta: so you like cooking?

Vinny: not necessarily. I kind of got into it because I just wanted to belong and be a part of something and I didn't want to join a gang..so.....uh.....

Neta: uh huh

Vinny: I just really like that kind of busy work environment. It keeps me on my toes and keeps me preoccupied. I really work well in high stake environments and I like being involved with people who also enjoy that environment. I also really like music and I used to be in a punk band back in the day it was called D.I. DIE.... Kind of sounds like DIY like do it yourself-You get it.

Neta: That's interesting... What did you play?

Vinny: drums, I used to play drums. It was really good at it never played in a while. I hope Betty didn't sell my set after I got locked up

Neta: ok ........ All right. Here's the thing this interview was pretty decent..... Once the background check is complete. Expect a phone call.... Next week around Tuesday okay?

Vinny: really?

Neta: yep... We just need to do the background check and you're set

Vinny: ..... Right, my background check...uhhhhh about that

Neta: listen man... I don't judge. What you've done in the past I probably did worse. You came here, you applied for a job you passed the interview. It's very obvious that you want to turn over a new leaf. I'm willing to help you with that... Just expect the phone call and an email and will be....SET AHH

Vinny: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! HAHAHA

Neta: ah ha ok ok you can put me down now....hehe cod you're strong....

Vinny: I also took up weightlifting when I was inside.

_______________ interview three__________________

anemone:...........................

Neta:.................................... So.... What would you consider to be your greatest strengths

anemone:...ehhhh ...... I don't know...... My honesty I'm very honest person

Neta: ok ...... That's good.... Resume seems fine.... You said that you play guitar and you're in a band. Tell me about that

anemone: ugh..... I'm in a band and I play guitar That's it.

Neta:...................*sigh* shit he's one of those.......ok. in a group setting, how well do you work with-

anemone: okay let me just lay it straight to you. I'm available Monday through Thursday. I do not work Fridays. I'm available in the mid shift and closing shifts. I don't do mornings I never have and never will. You have my resume and my phone number you can call me on weekdays around 12 to 5 . After that I'm not picking up see Tuesday. Bye.

Neta:................................ .*sigh*........ We need more closers anyway.

__________________ interview four________________

Neta: what would you consider your biggest achievement

Fugue [puffer fish] My great is achievement? I would say I was one of the few to be picked to play at the scuba dome during the rainbow night symphony orchestra. I was one of the youngest only 15 at the time.

Neta: Yes That's very impressive. I actually read that in the paper you used to Seiche high of the arts. I'm trying to get my daughter into that school next year.

Fugue: yes that was me. Played the tuba It's a wonderful school. I'm sure she'd love it.

Neta: That's very impressive. So why do you want to work here?

Fugue: well I'm trying to save up to go to college I'm trying to get into Brackish University they have a really good music program.

Neta: Brackish!! get out of here! My fiance goes Brackish!

Fugue: oh I'm well aware, ikkan right? That's very impressive, he must have a good reputation. They don't really take back many people once they drop out. If it's too much to ask, what instrument did he play for his audition? I'm assuming it was a bass an upright one right?

Neta: you'd think that but he actually did play the bassoon. He's actually the only one in his marching band in high school to play the bassoon

Fugue: He must have been very skilled. You don't see that many bassoons in band.

Neta: yeah.. he's very talented and hard-working. Most of it was self-taught you know outside of school and everything

Fugue: yeah.... Are you self- taught?

Neta: yeah.. I taught myself... I used to watch music videos and I used to copy their- oh Man we're out of time. I'm sorry we trailed off. I didn't even get to finish the interview

Fugue: oh I'm sorry so do I reschedule or

Neta: nah... you have the job kid. You seem like a really good kid and you have a lot of head of you. I'll send you an email and call you Tuesday okay?

Fugue: thank you sir.

Neta: aw what fine young man. We need more kids like that in this world.

_______________________________________________

Neta: it seems to be everyone... I still need to do the baristas but I have to wait for AHhhhhhh.....uhhh Stefan, you're here..... Great.... You could have said something

Stefan [betta]: sorry.... I didn't mean to startle you.....so...... Let's talk I'm thrilled to be a part of this store expansion

Neta: right.... First, how are you doing? How's business?

Stefan: business is great. I finally have my coffee in Mako March. I never thought I'd seen my brand...................in a discount chain store...............umm

Neta: I mean hey! If it makes you feel better It's the most expensive one in there.

Stefan: well of course it is. It's the best quality coffee out there. It should be the most expensive........ Anyway, did you hire me a barista for the shop

Neta: yes.....well I do have a candidate for that store. They are my last interview. They should be here in........ Maybe 30 minutes ......

Stefan: um...

Neta:..........so............. How's your father?

Stefan: he passed finally

Neta: oh.... I'm sorry to hear that.

Stefan: don't be. Its what we all wanted.

Neta: Was it peaceful?

Stefan: it was. he went in his sleep.... We were all prepared for it to happen so we had everything ready.

Neta: yeah that's how my mom passed. My aunt told me she just closed her eyes, dozed off and just never woke up

Stefan: and that's all we can ask for, no pain no suffering just go, when you're ready, you're ready...... I buried him with his prize possession

Neta: let me guess a coffee machine-

Stefan: A stove top espresso and coffee maker

Neta: of course

Stefan: it was his first ever coffee maker and used to make My mother and I coffee with that every day till the day he died. He cherished it like it was a child, Unlike how he cherished me.

Neta: oh...ok that's uh

Toguni: excuse me. I'm here for the interview for the barista job

Stefan: he's early..... Very Punctual

Neta: Right you must be ehhhhhhhh.......... Toguni!! You're the one I sent the email to!

Stefan: hello you must be my apprentice

Toguni: oh uh...wow your...

Stefan: Stefan the reinventor of coffee. Yes I know. Nice to meet you. sit down please I insist make yourself come through right next to me.

Toguni: Yes sir

Neta: well thank you for showing up today the interview will be short and simple I just want to get to know you and you're just going to answer some questions-

Stefan: Tell me what's your relationship with coffee?

Neta: Stefan

Toguni: un-

Stefan: what is your favorite type of coffee?

Toguni: I love coffee

Stefan: what is your opinion on cold brew

Toguni: hu-

Stefan: if I give you three cups dark roast, medium roast and light roast, how fast could you tell them apart? And if abel can you tell me what brand of coffee I give you?

Toguni: iiiiiii

Neta: Stefan, you're making him nervous

Stefan: what is an Americano?. Huh what is that? That's a genuine question. What is an Americano like what is that? What does that even mean? Neta you know history? What is that?

Neta: the Americano is named after a location during the mammalian period it was the first to be destroyed during world war-

Stefan: I don't need to hear one of your history lectures!!!!

Neta: your the one who asked

Stefan: what is the difference between a cortado and a flat white

Toguni: oh! I can actually answer this-

Stefan: quiet! be quiet, shut your mouth and I've had enough.......................

Toguni: ..........

Stefan:........................ I like you.... You don't sound like you're from here. Where are you from?..... Don't answer that.... I like you. I really do

Tagami: * gasp* really so I'm hired

Stefan: no. Not yet. You need to make me a single cup of coffee. Your choice.

Neta: We have a coffee maker in the break room but it only uses K-Cups

Stefan: no, he's not making that type of coffee. That's what you call coffee is an insult and abomination and you need to be ashamed of yourself for even suggesting that we use that coffee machine!!... *Sigh*.... here's my house address. You shall show up to my house at 7:00 a.m. I have all the materials needed. You make me one cup of coffee and if I like it........ You're hired.

Toguni:.........uh.................yes sir you said 7?

Stefan: Great! Be there at 7:00. I'll see you then. I see a lot of potential in you. Good bye....

Toguni: ......... .. ......

Neta: I'm .....so sorry. He's a fucking weirdo I don't know why I agreed to work with him. Listen you don't have to do any of that if you don't want to... I can

Toguni: I can't believe I'm going to his house. I'm going to Stefan's you make him a cup of coffee. I thought this was just going to be like a crappy part-time job

Neta: hurtful

Toguni: I have to. I have to go home. I have to practice I have to .. Make coffee....bye thank you for the interview!

_______________________________________________

Neta:* inhale* * exhale*.......

anemone: that guy was a fucking weirdo

Neta: ...... yeah he is ....... Why are you still here?

anemone: I just wanted to see all the other freaks I have to work with....... And they're definitely freaks *huff*

Neta: well, you're going to have to tolerate them.... Hey, maybe after a couple days you might actually like some..... Maybe you can let go of this mean facade you have on and actually make friends.

anemone: I have friends

Neta: ehhhh I don't believe you ... Trust me this whole 'thing' that you have going on, that's how I wasted my teenage years. Trust me.

anemone: *humpf*

Neta: *sigh* I still have that Naomi girls phone wonder if she's-

Naomi: I'm back! I'm sorry I panicked....uhhhhh I uh i.........

Neta:...........

anemone: heh...

Naomi [faces away. Eyes closed] .....*sigh* One of my greatest strengths. I like to show up early and on time I don't like being late. I know that I didn't show it today, but I am actually very reliable............ I don't really have a uh......uh...... Life..... outside of work so I am available whenever you need me. Just call me at any time and I will show up.

Neta: what did you choose this job?

Naomi: Truth is that.. My therapist wants me to go outside and interact with people... .... and suggest getting a part-time job...... to further improve my social skills....... I decided on rockshock because I like music. ........ and I like the alternative community and that it caters to.... People in the alternative community, though they look scary. They are actually very welcoming and patient and I feel like that would be a good environment to start my journey in to social interaction

Neta: well I must say you were right on that......... You forgot your cell phone on the table...... I'll call you next week for orientation okay?

Naomi: ok .....*huff* ok. ..... I'll be going. Thank you... he's so nice.

Neta: It's no problem.

anemone: I gave give her a week

Neta: shut up

anemone belongs to @fish-at-fish-fish-resort

And Toguni belongs to @conkreetmonkey

And neta belongs to...oh me he belongs to me nvm

[waywardsalt]

oh yeah i’ve got a bunch of loz aus that i haven’t really talked about. a few of them are listed and slightly explained in this poll and explanation reblog but i haven’t gone out of my way to actually list the aus i have and really explain them. so that’s what this post is for. here are some... decently simple explanations of my major aus and what they're generally about

i have two kinds of aus: original aus (loz aus that are set in their own kinds of worlds with their own stories and twists on character roles) and then crossover aus (we all know how this works i just mash loz and a thing i like together)

original aus: (many currently dont have actual titles, so the titles will often just be concept shorthand)

in the court of the crimson king/crimson king au: probably the most developed and closest to being written out. it's got one of the longer premises; set in a industrial-esque hyrule city, following linebeck as the main character, as the adoptive older brother of link and aryll, living with them and their grandmother as the only one able to reliably make money to pay for rent and food, leaving every other week to do jobs, but he moonlights as the 'demon of the gray moon', a masked persona he'd created as a child that had long since become a city-wide urban legend, anonymously taking unsavory jobs from whomever can contact him and offer pay, often working directly for bellum, a childhood friend, the one who enabled and trained him to become the demon, and one of five anonymous leaders of the city. linebeck effectively lives a double life, and tries to stay out of too much trouble to avoid drawing attention to himself or making his adoptive family worry, but he gets dragged into more and more danger as bellum becomes curious about the identities of the city's other leaders, and linebeck falls in love with a man named ganondorf, suspected to be one of those other city leaders. ive got a few posts related to it already: this one being another vague concept descriptor, this one being an actual scene i have written out.

'gimmick' au: i cannot explain the gimmick without spoiling the au. put simply, in this au, hyrule as a whole has been at war for ten years, every race and kingdom taking sides in a conflict that seems to be going nowhere. link joined the hylian army young, and has made his way up the ranks to become trusted by queen zelda herself, and things in the war take an interesting turn as he and zelda discover a new faction, unaligned with any particular kingdom and with unknown motives, and zelda decides to set out to the different parts of hyrule, link and a chosen group of trusted allies in tow, intending to try negotiation one more time before things take a turn for the worse.

sci-fi/space au: the fun one that probably would need to be done in a visual medium. it takes place in a solar system of a few planets, link growing up on the planet hyrule and occasionally traveling to the others as a knight specializing in investigating and taking down dangerous bounty hunters, working for zelda as a friend. he and zelda uncover a plot by the yiga clan to accumulate a number of highly dangerous research and weapons held by each species as they aim to resurrect a demon to wreck havoc on the solar system- the b plot being about the top bounty hunters in the solar system screwing around, eventually colliding with link and zelda's a plot as it begins to involve them.

murder mystery(?) au: one of the older ones, maybe one of the oldest that i still stick with. this might actually be one of the first ones i tried writing. the plot begins when zelda returns to hyrule city years after her father- the former mayor- was murdered, finding that he has been replaced by ganondorf and that while things seem fine enough on the surface, random and organized crime run the show, and she begins a private detective agency as 'sheik', a masked young man, and with the help of impa, and old friend and confidant, she moonlights as sheik and uses her daytime identity as zelda to help chip away at some of the city's biggest problems and finds herself drawn into a long string of murders that appear to be anything but random violence.

ruined hyrule 1: i have two au’s with the premise of hyrule being ruined. neither of them have more specific names yet. this one begins with the majority of greater hyrule's population having long since locked themselves in hyrule castle town in order to escape the increasingly dangerous wildlife. zelda, a young girl at the beginning, becomes curious about what lies beyond the city walls, and makes friends with many other children within this sheltered hyrule, and as they grow up together, aim to eventually venture out into the wilderness to see what may have caused the outside world to become so incredibly hostile.

ruined hyrule 2: the other ruined hyrule. set in a devastated hyrule, roughly ten years after the royal family was killed, link failing to save them or hyrule in the time since. he now resolves to set out and indiscriminately destroy every demon that plagues the ruined hyrule, meeting and bringing along various allies, each of which has been uniquely affected by and have different lived in this altered, dangerous shell of hyrule.

modern (school): i also have two modern aus. this one isn’t plot driven, just a concept i have, would work best as little vignettes or something. essentially just the idea of a group of loz characters hanging out together in a modern high school (or college?) setting.

modern: this is the one with an actual plot. follows the general idea of zelda characters living in a modern world only for the typical legends to begin resurfacing and heralding dark events. plot specifics are murky, but that's the general idea.

dark mage: this is the au that where the seas meet the sands takes place in. basically just ganondorf x linebeck shenanigans in this alternate hyrule while actual plot sneaks up on them. named 'dark mage' mostly because the initial idea behind this au was that linebeck would learn magic.

horror au: doesn't have the best name, and it's ended up just being a personal sandbox for me. constantly changing, with the cast and setting often altering if i find that something isn't working or sticking. it's an au i've considered (and even briefly tried) writing in the past, but it's still too fluid, and writing horror effectively is difficult. it's a fun au, though.

mecha au: spawned because i watched neon genesis evangelion. a lot of this au's basic concepts can be found here: x but the short version is that hyrule is being besiged by massive monsters, but each race has created their own mechs to combat them. link is just a farmer who happens to have a strange knack for being a mech user, so is brought in by zelda as a gamble to bolster their chances, and he is tasked with working with a new and less-than-trustworthy crew to help fight those monsters.

'amnesia link' au: an au that sprang up in about a day and hasn't gotten too far since. basic premise being that three years prior to the story, link and a group of allies has faced off against ganondorf and, despite their best efforts, lost, with link being presumed dead by their enemies. now, link has woken up from his coma, his memories gone and hyrule taken over, and, with guidance, must once again travel across hyrule, aiming to rediscover his allies and try to face ganondorf once more.

A quick list of crossovers: I won't explain these in length, since they can range from having their own plot to just being a fun mental concept. So, the things I have made crossover aus with are:

Warrior Cats

Batman

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure

Persona 5

Pokemon

(there are other, smaller ones, these are just the ones i consistently pay attention to)

So! These are the majority of my legend of zelda aus, some of which I may write, some of which just exist in my mind for fun, all of which I wouldn't mind talking more about if anyone is curious!

[justashamwithwastedpotential]

Have a silly animatic I made based on one of my old OC’s featuring @boinurmom13​​ ′s Bo again bc I’m obsessed ig

Transcript Below (because my handwriting is a mess)

*CRASH* *THUD* Parker: Bo, I need your help.  Bo: Who are you? Bo: And why the fuck did you break my window? Parker: Not important. Parker: But Bo, listen Parker: I have the funniest idea Parker: Word around town is that you’re good at these sorts of things (at least I assume because that wizard called you a menace) Parker: And Sky won’t help me (something about not wanting to get in trouble. As if we’d get caught) Parker: What do you say? Parker: You down for some hijinks and shenanigans? Bo: ... Bo: What are we doing? Parker: All I need is for you to distract the mayor Lewis: *Complaining about the youth* Bo: That’s it? Parker: That’s it. Parker: I can take care of the rest. -> Stolen from Skylar

*THUD* Parker: I lied. Parker: I have the strength of a cooked spaghetti noodle. Parker: Please help. Bo: (wtf) Parker: Can you move it? Bo: Now what? Parker: (Ah right) Parker: How are your metalworking skills? *Cue maniacal laughter* -> Stolen from Maru Parker: Okay. I’m done being evil now. Parker: Back to our regularly scheduled tomfoolery.

Parker: Now for a magic trick of my own. Parker: Abra- Parker: (Hold on) Parker: (One moment) Parker: (Let me just-) Parker: -cadabra! Parker: (I have too much time on my hands) Parker: Now bring forth the sacrifice. Parker: (joyfully) It’s worse than I could have possibly imagined.

The Next Day Parker: Told ya it would be good Skylar: Parker! Parker: Uh oh Parker: Better get out of here Parker: Bye, Bo! Skylar: Parker, you didn’t... Parker: In my defense, you left me bored and unattended Skylar: *sigh*

The End

And this is the one reference I traced for that first shot of Bo

[ashennightingale]

imo good character-establishing things to have for pcs are like

- the usual why are they on this adventure, why are they w this group, etc

- what's one personality trait that drives them to do the stupid but fun thing

- what's one aspect that might make them act in ways contrary to how they do normally (including Not doing the stupid thing if it wouldn't be fun)

that last one is beneficial for the collaborative aspect of ttrpgs: if everyone else wants to do x, & as a player u wanna cooperate but ur pc would be opposed, how can u navigate that? there's still times to dig ur heels in, but often I've found more value in establishing Why or How my character can be convinced to go along w smth anyway

also just. ppl contradict themselves sometimes, & having even a simple sense of that in ur pcs can both make rp richer & assist in collaborating w the other ppl at ur table