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cutiekaijumuseum · 10 months ago

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A little trivia for those that just got introduced to Ultraman thanks to Ultraman Rising

You know that part where baby kaiju Emi is shown a kids cartoon with an earworm of a song?

That cartoon is real!! It's called Kaiju Step Wandabada and it stars cute kid versions of different monsters from different Ultraman series (mostly the original from 1966 wich Rising is also based on). The opening shown in the movie is in stop-motion while the cartoon itself is in 2D.

The Ultraman heroes don't appear in person, but bizarrely enough they seem to exist as fictional superheroes in-universe, with the kaiju kids having toys and dolls of them. It's no surprise Emi liked it so much! She would be right at home in this show!

The episodes are 5 minutes long, there are two seasons of 26 episodes each for a total of 52. The official Tsurubaya channel has the first episodes of both seasons uploaded...

youtube

...but the rest were sadly only up for a limited time cuz gotta sell the dvds. What is officially available online right now is a series of educational shorts.

Some years ago Marvel Comics got the rights to make Ultraman comics and made a mini-series called "The Rise of Ultraman" (no relation), and these Kaiju Step designs got to appear as part of in-universe instructional videos about dealing with monsters and aliens:

So let's have a quick rundow on the little monsters and where each comes from:

Pigmon or Pig-chan is the main protagonist and new kid in town (forest). This coral-looking guy is one of the most iconic and recurring ultra monsters and the go-to kid-friendly one, as he stood out among the original set of kaiju for being friendly and heroic (as well as human-sized). He has the bad habit of dying in many of his apperences but fortunately that's not the case here.

Kanegon or Kane-chan is the second member of the protagonist trio, and the most energic and simple-minded. A coin purse monster that eats money, and usually a human kid under a curse. He actually pre-dates Ultraman, appearing in the black-and-white anthology series Ultra Q wich had monsters but not superheroes. Fortunately this one doesn't need to eat money and was born a kaiju.

Alien Dada or Dada-chan is the reliable but temperamental inventor of the trio, he dreams of building a rocket ship. One of the most iconic villains from the original 1966 Ultraman (and that's saying a lot), it's a weird alien with weird powers looking for human subjects for his weird experiments, like testing his shrinking ray. He really earns the name of a weird art movement.

Gomora or Gomo-chan is probably the most iconic ultra kaiju of all. Remember how in Ultraman Rising there is this whole sequence where the dad omniously talks about fighting him? There is a good reason for that. Gomora had the only two-parter in the original 1966 series, and was able to actually defeat Ultraman in their first figh. He's essentially Godzilla if he lived underground rather than underwater (He's even been a good guy and had a robot counterpart). Here, however, Gomora is a chill guy who's passionate about agriculture. (btw, you can also spot Gomora in Rising on a screen around an hour and eight minutes into the movie).

Red King or just Red is another iconic ultra dino, that looks like corn. In the show he's brute but well-meaning, and has a friendly sport rivalry with Kemur-chan. But in the Ultraman series he's a sadistic and murderous bully who beats up weaker monsters but gets his butt kicked rather easily by Ultraman (although more recent incarnations have have been more positive, both in his fighting ability and sometimes even becoming a loving father). (and yes, you are right, he's not red).

Jamira or Jami-chan is a passionate archeologist and fossil collector in the show, whereas in the original Ultraman he was a human astronaut that got infected by a virus. He hasn't appeared much beyond his debut... but doesn't need to, as his episode was very memorable in how sad and tragic it was. I can't imagine the target audience's whiplash seeing this cute creature one moment collecting fossils and the next having a horrible sad death. I guess one could say the same for most of the characters, but this one takes the cake.

Miclas or Mic-chan is the youngest character, a baby, and loves bugs. He was one of the "capsule monsters" from the second ultra series, Ultra Seven. Sometimes the titular ultra wouldn't be able to fight himself so he would summon up to three very loyal monsters from little capsules to do the fighting instead (or at least buy some time, they weren't very strong). One was a triceratops, another was a robot bird, but the most iconic had to be Miclas because really, what even is he? Some kind of bull toad hybrid? (By the way, fun fact, the capsule monsters were one of the inspirations for Pokemon).

King Joe (yes, that's his name) or Joe-chan is a robot controlled by alien invaders and is to Ultra Seven what Gomora is to the original Ultraman: he's the subject of a two-parter and was able to beat the hero to a pulp at first, made harder to fight by his ability to divide into three flying parts. Fortunately this Joe is very shy and very friendly.

Eleking or Ele-chan from Ultra Seven is another of the "mascot" ultra kaiju. If two ultra kaiju have to appear in anything, chances are they will be Gomora and Eleking. In fact, in Ultraman Rising you can see Eleking in a monitor right next to Gomora (around an hour and eight minutes in). It's a dinosaur-like eel monster with (of course) electric powers, and the enforcer of an all-female bug-like alien species set to conquer the earth, that are nonetheless very affectionate towards their pet-weapon dino-eel. The fact that Eleking's masters are always women may explain why the Kaiju Step one is a very femenine and elegant girl despite having King in the name, though no less dangerously electric.

Alien Guts or Guts-chan here is a very little alien bird child who can multiply into three separate individuals to cause all the destruction in their sincere attempts to help out. The original duo from Ultra Seven meanwhile are ruthless alien invaders that are infamous for freaking crucifying the aforementioned hero, leading to decades of japanese media having christian imagery for the sake of looking cool, most notably Neon Genesis Evangelion, because these birds did it first and it looked so cool.

Alien Kemur or Kemu-chan is a very agile alien that comes from the distant future of 2020 to consume humans and extend his lifespan. Here he's a friendly but competitive ninja from the present, and has a rivalry with Red King being the speed to his strenght. Like Kanegon, he pre-dates Ultraman, being from Ultra Q.

Motokureron or Kureron-chan originates from the whimsical, fairy-tale like Ultraman Taro. A kid found him as a baby and fed him until he grew to giant size, but when the kid couldn't feed him anymore he turned destructive; fortunately he was easy to pacify with food, including the kind that made him shrink. He retains his glutonny and clumsiness in Kaiju Step, often doing the bad thing (tm) so the others can teach the kids in the audience why you shouldn't do the bad thing (tm).

Nova or No-chan originates from the surprisingly dark Ultraman Leo. This creepy and bizarre ghost-like alien created a red mist that made people go crazy, and manipulated a kid with illusions of his deceased family, and under his cloth there are lots of tentacles and a scythe. So of course, in Kaiju Step she's a happy and energic little girl that loves to sing.

Mugera or Muge-chan is by far the most obscure kaiju of the cast. She's from the 2001 series Ultraman Cosmos, the one where the titular hero protects monsters instead of fighting them. Mugera is an ET-like cryptid that lives in an amusement park that only kids can see, with the ability to fix toys and heal wounds with her magic. After the amusement park closes down she phones home and the protagonists have to protect her from the goverment wich is a little too eager to shoot down the UFO that came to pick her up. In Kaiju Step she likes reading and plants.

And that was your daily dose of kaiju sugar, that may be overdose because you probably already met Emi. Cheers!

#ultraman #ultraman rising #kaiju step #kaiju #marvel comics #long post

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bizarrelovesquare · 11 months ago

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Dan posted this video that gave us a HUGE peek into Martin's notes about episodes they're working on...

Screenshots (with about 90% ID of what's visible, bless his handwriting) under the cut! Fair warning, it's long, but there's a lot going on here, and it's so much to think about!

picture 1: ????? chicken head funnier

picture 2: (first page) Reactionator

? Speakers all over town People's phones Therapist Doof & Candace

Therapist thinks she is crazy but is tactful

The shrink is delusional ? ? exercise that is the catalyst for Cand. being delusional

Candace "It's A Wonderful Life" -- After actual bust C sees everyone doing much worse she feels sad

Family - I think you discuss it Cruise Ship - P&F Van/Doof Last chance to Candace A / Perry back

(second page) Doof's DEI W/A C's Therapist

Doof same therapist

Ferb is next a speech therapist

Doof trauma-dumping on therapist

Therapist "The real self-destruct button is in your head"

Therapist does ex(?)nemesis - therapist

Therapist sees - "WAIT, I GET IT, what Candace is doing gets taken away by what HE'S DOING--"

(note going down side of page) GUEST ON DOOFENPUSS

Doof ? regular ? ? - but she can't ? this because of C ? Confidential ALL DANVILLE Doof and Vanessa on cruise ALL CHARACTERS ? Reactionator blackmail secret I ever tell you w/Lindana whose solved mysteries

picture 3: (script on the table) (our first potential season 6 title?) PHINEAS AND FERB

"VANESSAY"

Written by Martin Olson & Olivia Olson

picture 4: Vanessay

Change tennis to playground

Roger & slushy guy not zapped

Rog. - reflects ray w/ his teeth - set up teeth first Doof: strong jaw -

Agent T thumbnotes "Up the chimney is a weird visual pun" Stacy: "You know we have a front door."

C & Stacy w/ambient sounds joke sequence - cut down?

Mono - "Four seasons of this show" Why did I ? ? ?

To Liv for Vanessay Playground - see how ? ? trap sets scene - a handled window box

Stacy: "Hey ? I ? ANIMAL NOISES!" CUT TO BLACK

Stacy pushes ? out of doorway

Dimin: after "Shorty" - No prize is worth this!

picture 5: T For Teen For Liv - SC 916 Perry leaps into air & does triple flip & lands ready to fight

Pitch n buttons for each

Exec note - Thurs - T For Teens 1:48 end of C/Stacy annual ? sudden cut to end ? w "napkins"

MEAP - PT2 S&P CONCERNS

(I cannot make this bit out to save my life. Martin what in the world my dude)

picture 6: Meap pt 2 - thumbnotes

22 to Meap - "Uh-uh! An ship ? us away!" (clumsy)

Fix pronunciation "St. Lois" joke C is shushed by Meap

Tidy up - don't have everyone say "Don't forget to flush"

C pressing red button to explode ? ship sucks

Brenda joke sexist "No one tracks you through the universe more than your wife"

picture 7: 501 PT1 Exec notes - bigger intro of Doof instead of him on yearbook 10:27 Buf. throw away Constitution Irving beat #2 too quick to nerd

Deconstructing thumbatic

Instead of "psychosis" "phantasma"

607 - Isa hair - 704 OWCA shredding SC

C feels good - "? ? that every day"

12 min: Viewers see The Murder Board

Biblio Blast anim. notes Perry incompetent - smashes into Doof's roof Cut down - plants surrounding/attacking Cut down Doof/Per table start w/Doof "We have to HIT SELF DESTRUCT"

picture 8: (page 1) song by the paver the wind makes love w/each other again

around us - it all seems so real meaning confounds us - cuz nothing's revealed we're SW in love w/each other again

Middle 1: From nothing we hustle Towards each other again Our love seems to circle Without any end

V3: The cloud of unknowing has such beautiful colors But where is it all going ? towards one another? we're SW - in love w/each other again

Middle 2: We seek out each other Every time we appear Sometimes we find another Before we disappear

INSTRUMENTAL W/DANCING SKELETON

(page 2) Middle 3: The breeze says to hug her And show how we feel Slowly healing each other Every turn of the wheel

Repeat V1: So basically - We're SW Along by the river We sit on a porch and The wind makes us shiver We're SW in love w/ each other again We're SW in love w/ each other again

JOSH - The paver of

picture 9: While Dance

says to hug her how we feel healing each other turn of the wheel

Repeat V1: (So basically)

We're SW Alone by the river We sit on the ? and The wind makes us shiver We're SW In love w/each other again

picture 10: Swampy

is trapped

back build something

element

State Triangle

"It's like the Berm[uda Triangle] totally different

(Teen lounge) & P&F build

too much like

Dan wants PLANE to

Doof is the ship

Jon said we turn strong where Doof is in the clouds - there's

picture 11: It's a whole new summer Perry (reblog if u cried)

Earthquake

Mom is laughing so hard she can't look

Staring contest - Try not to laugh

Candace has to be ? at Jeremy's larping tournament but she laughs

picture 12: Perry sick, "Can you take

Candace P&F canoe race

Laughtrack-inator Start ? - reveal Doof hits them w/a Doof keeps cranking it up

Doof rises wall of ? behind at ?

Laugh-inator Cut to surgeon heart

Norm: Good mg. sir Doof: But I programmed you to

picture 13: (this is another view of the page in picture 2, but this one reveals slightly more at the bottom, nothing too noteworthy added except for this)

LINDANA 80'S COP MOVIE - GUEST ON DOOFENPUS

#phineas and ferb #this took hours to transcribe btw. the things i do for this dang show <3

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legendofmorons · 19 days ago

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Written in the stars (forever on loop) chapter three - War of hearts

Pairing: pre poly! Chain x reader

Rating: T

Summary: While you and the boys are traveling, you're ambushed. Dealing with the fallout of that shakes lose a dream (?) And leaves the boys with too many emotions. Wind and Epona are done with this, though.

Warnings: HI! The dream sequence in this includes implied character death. You can skip it and get a summary at the end. (Dream is all in bold italics.) Cursing, Canon typical violence

Other: If I missed anything, please let me know.

Previous masterlist Next

Wind dosen’t know what is going on with the others, but he does know that they're treating you weird.

Which is such bullshit.

You are pretty cool so far!

Here you all are, though, walking to try to find the shadow, and the group is being super weird.

So far, you have been here two days total, and you don't seem inclined to speak to any of the others but him and maybe Sky.

Wind dosen’t even blame you.

He watches the others and can't make sense of any of it. The glares, awkward silences, distrustful eyes, and general tenseness the others display are off-putting even to the sailor.

Wind walks beside you, trying to keep your spirits up.

It's pretty obvious you aren't used to so much walking. He gets it. He struggles sometimes, too. He grew op on a small island.

"Hey," Wind says as he nudges you, "I think I'm on first watch tonight if you want to stay up and trade stories?"

You look to him with a relief he hates that you feel. You shouldn't have to feel relief at basic interaction.

The thought of his friend who shares your name and face being treated like this is heart-wrenching. His heart clenches, and he has to take a slow breath.

"I'd love that." You say with a soft smile.

Wind gives you a smile back."You'll have to tell me more about your home too."

"I can do that. You have to tell me more about sailing."

He laughs, elbowing you. "Obviously!"

"Keep it down." Warriors hisses as he turns around with a pointed glare, "You'll draw the monsters to us for an ambish."

"Sorry." You mutter, looking away from the captain and the sailor both.

Wind wants to kick Warriors. You two aren't being that loud, and no one else can be bothered to make you feel welcome besides him and Sky. Sky is in the back today, something about needing to think.

Wind just wants to make you feel welcome.

Warriors is throwing a wrench in his plans, though.

In fact, the look Warriors gives you is going to do the opposite.

Warriors shoots you a dirty look for your apology before turning back to face forward.

You shrink in on yourself visibly, shoulders hitching.

Wind huffs, sticking his tongue out at the captain's turned back.

You see it, though, and you crack a shaky smile.

Wind will take it.

He walks with you in silence, occasionally pointing to a cool bird.

You don't seem inclined to speak again, but you smile at the birds.

Wind just focuses on trying to be friendly. He thinks you're fun to be around, and he wants you to feel wanted.

The day wears on in tedious waltzes of time.

Wind catches the dirty and suspicious glares Legend gives you.

He watches Four and Wild share glances over your head before eyeing distrustful and then looking ashamed.

Wind sees Time stare at you with heavy gazes.

He sees Twilight hover around you with heavy silence. Although Epona seems unaffected by the man's hesitancy and is happy to walk near you.

He sees Sky flinch from your voice when you aren't looking.

Wind sees a group of his brothers, of his previous and later lives, and he sees them and cruel in this matter. As callous. As cowards even. In this one thing for sure.

His brothers are failing you in every way, and Wind feels something thick and heavy in his throat about the debacle.

He catches you quietly, slipping Epona an apple you found earlier. His lips tug upwards at the sight. (He's left curious about if Twilight is aware yet. If the rancher knows how taken with the horse you are?)

How can the others be so callous? You're the shit!

He turns when you nudge his side while pointing into the trees, looking over quickly with wide eyes. He follows your arm and finger up to the seagull that's perched in a large oak tree.

"That's so weird!" Wind gasps, "What is that doing here?"

You give a shrug. "Dunno."

"Think I could call it over?" Wind asks with a crooked grin.

You snort, the sound making his heart loosen a little.

"How? Do you call it like a cat?" You ask wryly.

"No, you mimic their bird call." He laughs.

You crack a soft smile. "So... you just say 'mine' a lot? Or do you call 'seagull seagull'?"

Warriors shoots the two of you another yet dirty look.

Wind opens his mouth to retort, but he falls silent when you grab his arm sharply, pointing to something else in the trees.

He turns, startling at the tight grip you have on his upper arm, following your finger again and seeing a lizafos.

Warriors hisses, having also looked where you were pointing.

Arrows start raining down as you push him behind you. Your frame serving as a shield between him and danger.

Sky is pulling the sailor under his shield next, and Wind is left wondering why in the name of Hyrule you were seemingly ready to use yourself as a shield.

He watches Warriors pull you under the captain's shield. The man pulling you to safety has a neutral look, except his eyes are desperate and wide.

-------

You knew you were all being followed, but the moment the arrows start raining, it seems like a bad time to say it.

You shove Wind behind you on instinct, something in you saying that you just need a shield. You don't have one.

You watch Sky grab Wind, putting his shield up.

You gasp as an arm wraps around you, jerking you close to a body as the person holding you puts their own shield up. Your hands fly up to rest on the person's chest.

You are saved just in time. Arrows are raining against the shield above you.

The arm around you holds you close and tight.

Warriors is the one holding you, silent as he waits for the arrows to let up. He looks down at you, brows knitting.

"Fucking lizafos." You grumble, a dislike of the monsters ingrained in you since you first saw them on a screen.

Apparently, they aren't better in person.

The man holds you close, arm firm around you as he looks down with an unreadable expression. His lips are pinched as he searches your form for any injury.

"When I say run, you're going to run." Warriors tells you with a sharp tone.

"Sounds great." You say quickly.

It's distinctly apparent in your mind now that you have no weapon. The idea seemed strange to need until now. (Your fingers itch to closer around the hilt of a sword that you have never weilded.)

You were traveling with nine heroes but being ambushed without a weapon has definitely changed your thoughts on the matter.

You're going to have to find a sword or something at the first chance you get.

The arrows cease while they reload.

"Run! Go hide, we'll find you." Warriors commands as he grabs his sword. His voice is stern, unyielding.

Following directions is easy. Running into the opposite tree line and away from the monsters seems smart.

You push yourself forward and into the forest as fast as you can, focusing on longer strides to go further.

You break the tree line and keep going, trying to block out the sound of fighting behind you.

Today is officially not great.

You rush through the trees, weaving until you see a branch low enough to climb up a tree with.

It's not a well thought out plan. It's more of a spur of the moment thought. Something about wanting the high ground.

You scramble up the tree quickly, lack of regard for caution in the moment. Yay, adrenaline!

You see the way the trees interlock and have branches that would be easy to get across...

Wouldn't it be harder to track footprints on the trees?

You start making your way across different branches, making sure not to look down or think beyond picking your next destination.

You don't bother wondering why traversing like this seems so easy.

You settle by the trunk of a tree a good fifty feet from the first one you climbed up. You're not too high up, but far enough up and with enough foliage around you, someone would have to really be looking to find you.

You try to catch your breath and slow your heart now. Blood is pounding in your ears.

You can hear everything.

The clash of weapons, the wind in the leaves, the shift of dirt on the ground.

If this is even half of what fighting is like... you can see why people sometimes like it.

The alertness, the heady high that adrenaline provides - it makes sense.

It dosen’t take away the fear, but it makes it matter less now that you're safe.

For a moment, you swear you hear familiar laughter in your mind, the sound of a man laughing in victory - it must be something you saw in a movie.

(Why can you imagine the flutter of blue fabric with the laugh?)

You can't say how long it is before you hear footsteps coming towards you.

You choke down a gasp, peering down to try to see who's down there.

There's a call of your name in a thick drawl.

Twilight then.

You wait to be sure, though. Could it be a trap or something? Who knows.

Twilight calls for you again.

Oh!

You see Epona walking under the tree.

"Sweetheart!" You call excitedly to the horse.

You can hear someone choke a little on the ground, but that seems irrelevant.

You start climbing down the tree.

Once you hit the ground, Epona is nudging you with her nose with a snort.

You smile, petting her neck. "It's so good to see you, pretty girl!"

"Ya really like her, don't ya?" Twilight asks as he eyes you.

He looks guarded, brows furowing, and mouth tense.

"Who wouldn't? Epona is a sweetheart." You smile, happily lavishing the horse with attention.

Epona gives a happy little whicker, nosing your shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Wild asks, eyeing your form with a care you don't recognize.

You aren't sure why he's looking at you like that.

"I'm okay. Are you two okay?"

"Jus' fine." Twilight says, looking away.

"Is... something on my face?" You ask.

"No." Wild says, "Just- a few tears in your clothes and a couple scratches."

You sigh, "That's going to suck later."

Epona nudges you again, demanding that you go back to petting her.

You snort, reaching out to scatch her ears gently as you coo, "Aw, sweetheart, it's okay. You're such a good girl, I'm sure everyone agrees."

"We should... head back." Wild says. "We want to try to cover more ground before stopping for the day."

You nod, "Okay."

Twilight leads the way, Epona's reins loose in his hand.

Wild takes the rear.

Walking between the two men is tense and silent. The air is thick.

Epona is happy to walk at your side though, occasional nudging you for more pets.

You oblige the mare easily, whispering to her sweetly every so often.

Once you break the tree line, you see the others clustered together.

The moment Wind sees you, he's running over while yelling your name. He's got wide eyes again.

He skids to a stop at your side, "Are you okay?!"

"Yeah, I'm okay." You smile, "Are you okay, sailor?"

"Those monsters couldn't take me!" He grins up at you impishly.

You smile, "Good. I'm glad. I was worried about you."

"Your warning was helpful. You don't need to worry about me."

"If you say so."

Wind just hums. "How'd you know to look in the trees for them anyway?"

"I felt like something was following us." You shrug half heartedly.

"Well, you were right." Wind says.

Wind, Twilight, Wild, and you make your way the fifteen feet or so to get back to the rest of the group.

"You found them." Time notes.

"We did." Twilight agrees. "They hid pretty well."

You snort, "No one ever thinks to look up."

Wind laughs.

Sky steps over to you, looking you over carefully. "Are you okay?"

He has wide eyes and his lips pinch. He looks a little desperate, but you chalk that up to whatever has him so upset at noght.

"I'm good. I'll probably crash later, but that's adrenaline for you." You wave off.

Epona is nudging your shoulders again. She apparently is feeling affectionate today.

"What do you mean crash?" Sky asks with wide eyes.

"Be super tired? Maybe slow?" You pat Epona's neck as you try to figure out how to explain it.

"Okay." Sky says with a dubious look over your form as if trying to once again assure himself that you're okay.

You look around the group, taking stock of their states and immediately frowning when you see Four with a bandage around his hand.

Everyone seems fairly okay otherwise, though, which is reassuring.

Hyrule and Legend are side by side, talking about something or other. When they look at you, Hyrule gives a strained smile while Legend just glares.

Warriors is with Four, examining a dagger in his hands. Although the Captain does glance your way and give you a nod. (He also looks like he might like to yell, but that's not your focus.)

Getting back on the road is easy enough, although you have been temporarily separated from Wind. (It's like when you talk to your best friend and the teacher makes you go sit in timeout or something.)

Now you are walking beside Time, who is not nearly as excitable. But he isn't horrible. He is, however, doing that thing where he stares, and you just can't prove it.

The eldest dosen’t talk, not now, at least, though he does catch you when you trip over something.

You offer a soft thanks only to get a sharp nod.

-------

Time sits by the fire with Warriors and Wild, unable to look over to where you sit. He can't stand the similarities you share with his lost love.

It isn't your fault but it's erie.

Seeing you come back with all the little scratches shouldn't have upset him so much. You were safe. He dosen’t even really know you.

"Where were they when you found them, anyway?" Warriors asks as he stares into the fire

Wild looks over, face twisting a little. His brows drawn but voice warm. "They were in the trees."

"What?"

"They said no one ever thinks to look up." Wild says with a weak laugh.

Time nods. "It's good you and Twilight found them."

"Epona found them." Wild corrects. "They saw her and came down."

"They seem fond of her." Warriors muses. "Perhaps they have a horse back home."

"Epona loves them." Wild says.

"She seems to." Time says.

"You know... they loved horses too." Wild says, the change of subject is obvious if only to those who also lost them.

Time smiles sadly, the memory of his own steed with their ever tragic soulmate. His dearest.

They left him too soon.

He got longer with them than many. (But not enough. Time is selfish, and no amount of time will ever be enough.)

"I know." Time says. "They were always helping at Lon Lon ranch."

Warriors just hums noncommittal. "They saw the lizafos before the attack."

"You said so." Time says.

Warriors sighs. "How did they know? They said they felt it but... they aren't a fighter like us."

Wild shakes his head. "(Y/n) might just have good intuition."

"Maybe." Warriors says, a bitter tone in his voice that all but screams that he's biting back emotions again.

Time finally looks over to where you are.

You're sitting with Wind, examining a wooden sword the teen holds up. You're grinning, then you laugh.

For as often as Time wishes to hear that sound again... hearing it from you instead of his beloved is wrong.

It's unfair to wish you didn't laugh.

Time wishes that anyways. He wishes you didn't sound and act like his beloved.

"I don't understand why they're here." Wild admits.

"They aren't a hero." Warriors snorts. "They've never fought a war."

"How do you know?" Time frowns.

"I asked. But also, look at them. They aren't like us." Warriors says.

"That's not bad." Wild says softer, a weight in his words only his soul brothers truly understood.

"No." Time agrees. "But it dosen’t explain why they're here."

"Because Hylia hates us?" Wild suggests

Warriors huffs a laugh.

Time supposes that makes as much sense as anything else.

He looks back to you, watching as you swat playfully at Wind's hands as the teen tries to swipe some apple slices from you. It's... nice.

You are not his beloved, but you look like them. Seeing their joyful face on you is- strange and awful, but it's nice too.

He was forgetting what they looked like. What they sounded like.

How they laughed.

You laugh with Wind quite a bit. It's awful. (He's missed the sound.)

The next time Time looks over, you are holding a wooden sword, and Wind is laughing at the bad grip you have.

"We have got to teach you to fight!" Wind laughs.

You snort. "Are you volunteering?"

"Sure, why not." Wind shrugs.

Warriors sighs. "That's going to end badly."

"Maybe." Wild says.

Time has to resist the urge to smack the wooden sword from your hands. (You shouldn't have to fight!)

He dosen’t get to make that choice. In all reality, if you are to travel with them, learning to fight will be good.

The eldest of the group falls back into memories of his beloved.

Memories of mornings spent ignoring the call of responsibilities.

Memories of a timeline that will never be (not for him).

Memories of late nights slow dancing in the kitchen to the hum of his lover.

Time can't help but wonder... how long did the others have with them?

Did their soulmate have a favorite version of them?

Time has a favorite version of their soulmate. His version.

-------

Epona is more than happy to let Twilight brush her coat out after today. It's been such a good day for her.

She has you back!

Epona isn't too sure where you went or why you wear such strange fabrics, but you're back and that's all she cares about.

She watches you with the youngest hero, wondering if you have any more apples for her. She's missed you and your penchant for spoiling her.

Mostly you though.

"Don't get yer hopes up, girl, that's not who ya want it t' be." Twilight says as he brushes out her mane.

Epona looks at him, chuffing her disagreement.

She knows you. She can tell it's you. She's lived too many lives at your side to not know you.

"It's not yet fault." Twilight sighs.

Epona nips at his arm as a chiding measure. He's being so silly!

She hears you laugh again, looking over to see the youngest helping you with a wooden sword.

It's so good to have you back. It's good to hear you laugh.

Twilight sighs heavily beside her. "Oh, Epona, we're in it now. They look just like 'em an' I don't know how I'm s'posed ta go on like this."

Epona neighs.

She is going to have to buck some sense into her master. Silly man.

They're always so silly when it comes to you. Smitten and fawning all over you and assuming you don't like them at first.

Her silly Links.

She watches you, wondering where you've been.

It dosen’t much matter she guesses.

You're here now. With your boys. It's all going to be fine.

Epona chuffs again. However long you have left, she's sure it's going to be good.

Twilight pats her side sympathetically. "I miss 'em too, girl."

She has such silly boys. She knows Twilight will figure it out, though. They always do.

After Twilight is done with brushing and feeding her he goes to check on Wild.

Epona hasn't met several of these boys but they are all her Link. She Knows.

She goes over to you, nudging you. Epona will be getting her night time kisses from you now, please and thank you.

You just smile at her, petting her gently. "Hey sweetheart. It's late shouldn't you be ready to sleep?"

She chuffs happily, leaning into the touch on her muzzle.

"Aw, you just want some love, huh?" Ypu grin.

Epona is left, thinking once again that you are the better half to her boys. Always perceptive when it counts.

You press a kiss to her cheek. "Good night, sweetheart. You get some sleep."

She nuzzles her face against you in thanks and to wish you sleep too.

Epona lets you go on your way to finish setting up for bed.

She knows you'll need it.

She watches you stay up with Wind for first shift.

She falls asleep before you do though.

-------

You can't say you love fighting, but it's much better when you fight at Link's side. There's a heady high of adrenaline, trust, and adoration when you fight at his side.

Adrenaline is a hell of a high, but something about fighting for your life back to back with the man you love is even better.

The way his back flexes as he moves about behind you, the reassurance that Link is alive and okay. The reassurance that you are alive and okay.

It's a unique experience.

The sound of his breathing is a familiar cadence that helps you focus.

There is no regret you can find in your choice to follow Link into the royal army, especially not now when you get to fight at his side and help keep him safe.

You can hear Link laugh behind you, back vibrating with the victorious sound as he takes down a particularly vicious enemy.

"That's my man!." You call back with a grin as you knick aside a blade.

"Focus on your own fight, dove." Link says with a fondness that makes your heart swell.

You're not sure how a man can be both so loving and so vicious on the battle field.

You laugh again, blocking a volley of arrows before kicking the next enemy square in the chest.

The enemies fall quickly, the two of you a formidable duo. You both ebb and flow around the other, covering weak spots and prompting moves that are otherwise to risky alone.

There is no meaning beyond this moment. For now, there is only you, Link, and those that stand against you.

The moment the last one hits the ground, Link is spinning you around, so you are in his arms. His sword drops to the ground behind you, unimportant as he looks you over.

Blue eyes flit over your form as his brows draw together.

You smile, dropping your own sword and reaching to cradle his jaw with one hand.

"You're hurt." Link frowns heavily. His hands on your waist light but solid as he tries to tell how bad it is.

"Not bad. You're hurt, too."

"That's not important."

"What's important is we kicked ass!" You laugh, shooting him a wink.

Link laughs too, eyes crinkling and lighting up. He shakes his head at you fondly, indulgent, if only for you. "Of course we did, dove."

"Get over here," You demand lightly, the hand not cradling his face settles on his shoulder.

He does. He moves closer until he can kiss you, and then he does that, too. His lips press against yours as if he has all the time in the world.

As if you aren't both filthy from the fight.

As if you are precious.

There's a soft hum from Link, nothing but an innocent sign of affection as he uses the moment to reassure himself.

He pulls back, pressing his forehead to yours. He breathes heavy, but there is a deep understanding between you and him that this is where you both want to be. Together.

His gaze meets your own, and he gives a soft exhale.

You rub your thumb across his cheek.

He smiles at you softly, a warmth reserved only for you floods his eyes.

"Why don't you head back, I need to go find my dagger." You prompt.

Link frowns at you, "I'll stay."

"No, go ahead. You have to speak to Impa."

"She can wait." He says with a soft voice, arguing to stay by your side.

You smile, pressing another kiss to his lips. "Go on, captain, I'll meet you there."

Link sighs before he leans back in, cupping your face in one hand as he presses a kiss to your mouth a third and final time. "You better get back before dinner."

"I will."

He gives you a smile before he turns and picks up his gear.

You feel something prickle in your mind, an intuition. Danger is here.

It's somewhere to the right-

You turn, seeing the spear with just enough time to react. A desperate bid to protect your lover.

It's not thought through. You launch between the spear and Link, catching the tip through your lung with a strangled scream.

There's piercing pain and the distinct knowledge this isn't going to end well.

You land on the ground, impaled and wheezing heavily.

Link screams your name before whipping around to kill whatever threw that spear-

Time blurs as blood wells up in your mouth. You cough and wheeze.

Link falls to his knees by you. "Dove, stay with me. It's going to be okay."

"Li-nk." You croak. You know you don't have much time or strength.

Based on his face, he knows it, too.

"Lo-ve you." Your voice cracks over the words, but they are important.

Link is openly crying, shaking as he reaches for your hand. "I love you too. It's okay. It'll stop - it'll stop hurting soon."

You smile weakly-

You bolt up right with a strangled sob and an ache as if impaled through your lung.

It was a dream.

Why are you dreaming about the heroes?

Wild is the one one watch and it's his voice that asks "Are you okay?"

You whip around, eyes landing on the champion. Your still heaving shaky breaths.

Wild looks genuinely worried even as his eyes look far away.

You swallow hard.

"Just- a nightmare." You manage. "I'm- I'm fine."

He dosen’t look convinced.

-------

Dream summary: You and Warriors are in a battle. You guys finish it off and are sappy. You convince him to head back while you stay put to find your dagger, but when Wars goes to pick up his things, you are ambushed. You basically die, but it's not explicitly show, your last words to him are 'love you'. He cries.

Tag list: @vrsin

#misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu written in the stars (forever on loop) au #lu written in the stars au #written in the stars au

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dtrghost · 2 years ago

Text

closeness and proximity

Side note: This is my first ever tumblr fic, so uh, be gentle!! moving on!

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, violence, angst, descriptions of interrogation and torture, INTENSE gore (imo), cursing, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. If you have a weak stomach or faint heart, please do not read this, like please.

I'd also like to start this off by saying that the mc is not a good person, and that is on purpose. I've seen a lot of the angel fics where ghost falls for his antithesis, so I decided to try something new. So here, please forgive any mistakes.

if this does become a series there will most likely be smut because,,, yes.

(update it's becoming a series so if someone wants to be tagged for that lmk cause i have so many ideas for this)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word count: 3.4k

"Sunshine how copy?" Ghost's gruff, static filled voice called through coms, scope checking the parameters of the building she found herself held up in. She didn't respond at first, busy fighting for her life in a basement underneath the building they weren't aware of.

The deeper she went the harder it was to understand what was being relayed to her, so she settled on doing it on her own. He listened to a man grunt, their body dropping to the floor under her boot as she took a deep breath.

"There's a basement underground, coms are cutting out. I'm taking charge on clearing the basement. I'll report when I get to the surface. Sunshine out." She loathed her callsign with a passion. To speak it caused a burning hatred to spark in the lowest depths of her heart and made her cringe horribly. However, she knew it was better than letting everyone know her real name, so she dealt with it.

Ghost sighed, knowing she couldn't be stopped once she started. She had been on a few missions together in the past few years, he knew she was uptight and lacked the emotional capacity to make friends with others. It made him wonder why, what could've been that bad to freeze her heart over and shrink it to the size of the pebble he was crushing under his foot as he shifted uncomfortably. People would try and try to thaw her out, yet always failed.

He waited, taking out strays that attempted to heed the possible rescue requests that came from that basement, and patiently waited.

"This is Sunshine, basement cleared. Might wanna come take a look at this." His eyebrows furrowed, affirming the request and making his way down quickly, not wanting to stay in the open for too long. He made his way to the basement, eyes widening at the various bodies that trailed to wherever she was down there.

Had she done this all by herself?

He followed the bodies all the way to her, lights flickering, casting a bland white light on the concrete walls. seeing her digging through an opened trunk in a room filled with them.

"Weapons. American." Sunshine reported, glancing at him as he took his place next to her, seeing the American flag painted onto the inside of the lid. She turned at the sound of a groan, a soldier she left alive rousing to consciousness.

"Fuckin' hell. This mission was to take out ultranationalists." Ghost sighed. She didn't respond, the task force member watching her turn on her heel and grab the soldier by vest, throwing him against the wall with impressive strength. Blood flowed out of the back of his head, smearing against the wall as he slowly slid to the floor. He had never seen her in interrogation, but he had heard from those who have.

Brutal, heartless, some had to exit the room.

He wouldn't. He's witnessed plenty of torture tactics, even had to rely on some himself to get information necessary for national security. But this is another reason why they called her 'Sunshine', because to others she didn't feel remorse for what she did, some said she enjoyed it even, that her eyes brightened like the sun peaking over the horizon. Whether that was true or not he'd figure out now, as eager as he was. He watched her take out her knife, flipping it in her hand as she crouched to the soldier's level.

"Where'd they come from." She asked simply, keeping an even tone that surprised Ghost. He expected something more fierce, intimidating, but it was as if she was starting a conversation with a normal person. The victim attempted to spit in her face, but with a quick turn on the head it landed on the floor behind her. Her knife dug itself into his foot, his cries of pain echoing in the basement as she twisted it. The sounds of his bones cracking made Ghost shiver.

"Where'd they come from. Who sold them to you." She persisted, her face void of all emotion as she ripped the blade out of his foot. She sighed, turning to ghost who stood in the back, surveying the action. His eyebrows furrowed as she pointed to the door with her knife.

"Wait outside. This might take awhile." At first he didn't move, but the hint of impatience in her eyes spooked him out, for reasons unknown to him, but instinct told him to listen. So he slowly retreated and stood watch outside for anyone either getting up or rushing down the stairs. Y/N turned back to her victim, seeing two loops with chains hanging off of them imbedded into the wall. She tied his arms up, leaving his body sagging down.

Ghost listened to her repeat her questions, and when she didn't get an answer, a shout would follow. But those shouts turned to ear-piercing screams very quickly. He listened to pleads and begs of mercy to understand him, that he couldn't say anything out fear to what they'd do to him.

"Imagine what I'll do next if I don't get the response I want." She'd respond.

The bones cracking, the retch of vomiting, blood splattering onto the cold concrete.

"If you think you can outlast me, that I'll get tired of this and stop for the night to let you regain some of your humanity, you're wrong. Because unfortunately for you sweetheart." The blade tore through his skin, another bellow of pain emerging from his throat as he squirmed in his place. They were both coated in blood, her eyes dull and her ears tuning out the noise. To her, it was as if he was silent, his screams didn't penetrate through to her, and talked and talked until it drove him mad.

"I don't have all night, and I'm getting impatient. You won't die, I wouldn't allow that. I went through med school, graduated top of my class with a doctorate in Neuroscience. I know how to break." Which was evident as his leg was broken and facing different directions from the knee down to his toes.

"And I know how to fix. I'll keep you alive a lot longer than the night, and I'll do a lot worse. So if you want this to end, start talking, or you're in for a long week." Simon wondered what she was doing. His mind went over the possibilities until her victim finally cracked after the final scream he unleashed into the empty basement. He detailed a secret arms trade between an ally of the United States' and another country, which would lead to the likeliness of intentions for them.

War.

Y/N huffed, ripping off a piece of the soldiers shirt that wasn't soaked in sweat, blood, or vomit, which was a very small one, and wiping her hands clean as best as she could.

"Could've said that 10 minutes ago. Now, you'll bleed out within the next 5. Shame." Ghost listened to his anguished sobs as footsteps approached him, turning around from the entrance to see her, covered in blood. His eyes widened slightly, noticing a piece of...

Her eyes followed his to her vest, noticing a very small piece of flesh sitting between her shirt and gear before flicking it off to the side.

"Hopefully he didn't have HIV." She joked, but there was no humor in her voice, no sign of her finding it funny at all, as if she said it to just say it. Ghost didn't respond, he wasn't sure how. He slowly moved to look inside the room, the curiosity of what she did to the soldier eating him alive, until she grabbed his roughly.

"Don't." The word sent shivers down his spine, and he knew better than the disobey as she had operational command authority, and would likely court martial him if he had. So he took a step back and maintained eye contact, radioing in to Price.

"Captain, this is Ghost. How copy." He called, his gruff voice bringing a smile to her lips that he couldn't see due to her mask which was just a boring black one, decorated with blotches of drying blood that lightened up enough to see. "This is Price."

"We found weapons and gear, they're American." He went onto explain the situation, being weary of his mission leader walking around him in circles, waiting impatiently as he reported their findings.

"Copy that. I'll transfer this to Lanswell. Good work, report back to base for debrief."

"Copy, Ghost out." He connected his radio back to his vest. She took out her pistol, leading him to pull out his own. The behavior she exhibited was one he hadn't seen often, and it led to a deep mistrust he couldn't shake. She smirked, turning around, walking back in the room, and confirming her kill with a bullet between the eyes before reappearing in front of him.

He looked at her suspiciously as she gestured to the stairs, wondering who trained her, who made her into what she is now. She wasn't normal, not like the rest of them, she had no signs of remorse, care, or empathy for the people she killed, and she killed them with ease. Over 30 soldiers in one cramped basement and she came out unscathed, in tip top shape. He followed her out and made it to the landing zone where a helicopter came to pick them up.

She was silent the whole way back, Price being there to greet the two before they sat through debrief.

"Sunshine, we have orders from headquarters to have you join Task Force 141. Ghost is to watch over you. An official introduction will be made tomorrow." Price announced, not missing the tightened grip of Ghost's fist on the table.

"Copy that captain." She responded in her usual tone, only fueling Ghost's anger as he turned to glare at her, though she only ignored him, keeping her gaze unwavering on Price.

"Hit the showers soldier." Price dismissed, Y/N being the first to leave. But before she did, she turned to look down at her new partner.

"Happy to be on the team, Mr. Riley." It took his everything to not jump to his feet and knock her out, holding his breath to calm himself down as she walked away, the door shutting behind her. He hated that she had power over him, and worse that she rubbed it in his face.

"There's no chance in hell I'll stand for her being on my team." He immediately threw at him, standing up in his seat with his finger pressing firmly on the table in front of him.

"First, it's my team. Second, It's not my choice, orders are orders." Ghost growled lowly, clearly upset over the lack of fighting to keep her off, to keep her away to those he held near and dear to his heart, even if that wasn't too close to begin with. He saw her as a danger, an immediate threat, someone who belonged in an institution before they saw the battlefield.

"Then send an appeal. She's a war criminal. Tell em that!" He snapped.

"Bloody hell we're all war criminals. Then we'll be stuck in prison with her and you'll complain some more." Price groaned, rubbing his forehead, clearly irritated by his soldier's insistence.

"Not like that. Not how she is. She'll kill one of us before we get the next mission, hell she parade around our bodies like a joker and hail-" Price's hand slammed on the table, cutting his lieutenant off.

"Quiet." Ghost went silent, sighing deeply as he waited for Price to gather the right words, to somehow ease his mistrust in her, though he doubted she could do that. He watched as he shut the door and locked it, keeping his voice hushed, standing closer to his comrade.

"This is classified information, what I say stays in this room and is to never be discussed with anyone else. Is that understood lieutenant." Ghost's eyes widened for a moment before nodding in affirmation, waiting for his captain to continue.

"She- she wasn't brought up normally. As a great many soldiers weren't, hence why many of them join the ranks in the first place. She was a prodigy, she became a seal at 17, and on her second mission she was set up, deserted, and kidnapped. Nobody knows what happened to her in there, a search team was sent out, but she wasn't found til a few months later, and when she came out after she was different."

She was a child.

That's all Ghost could thing about. God knows what happened to her in there, and he didn't want to think about it.

"She exhibited sociopathic tendencies, she was closed off, didn't speak for a very long time. She failed psychological evaluation requirements, depression, ptsd, ecetera. Even then they sent her back out on missions a couple months later." Simon's eyes blew open, Price nodding glumly.

"Missions? Fuckin' hell, she needs help not special ops." He sneered, not at Price, but his anger was seeping through at rates he couldn't control. He was angry, how could they do that to someone? Did they not care, not even a little bit for her life? Her wellbeing?

"I know. But they're not taking her out any time soon, and now that she's on our team the least we can do is try to help her. I knew her before she became this. She was a kind soul." His voice dropped to a whisper, as if reminiscing, and he was. Her bright eyes, so full of potential when they met for her first mission, how she wheezed when she laughed. She was a kid, and it hurt his heart thinking about what she turned into over the last 6 years. Ghost nodded, silently agreeing to his motives before Price simply waved him off.

Simon hit the showers, scrubbing off the dirt and gunpowder that clung to his skin, watching the water turn black as the face paint drizzled down into it. The captain's words ran through his head over and over, the words going in one ear, through his brain, and out the other in a constant circle. He knew firsthand how corrupt his line of work could be, but that didn't make him any less angry when it revealed itself to him in the ways it did.

When he exited, fully dried and clothed with his mask back on, he passed by Y/N's room, noticing the light peaking out from underneath the door. He sighed quietly, his hand coming up and knocking on the door.

"It's open." Her cold voice responded, though it sounded more distant than before. He twisted the knob and let the door open, seeing her laying on her cot in deep thought. He went to question her, until he realized that she probably listened in on their conversation.

"You were listening." She nodded once, curtly and formally before sitting up and turning to look at him. Her eyes narrowed for a moment, analyzing every aspect about him. He felt like he was being stripped naked just by her look, his soul bare for her to look into.

Her eyes drifted over his exposed arms, the sleeveless tank he wore leaving them on display. He was a big guy, his arms were veined and muscled, tattoos filling up a majority of the space, combined with scars that passed through some of them. The top he wore was a bit tight, outline his chest in an attractive way, but she forced her eyes away, knowing he already caught onto what she was staring at.

"Price is right. I wasn't always like this. And I think he was the only one to notice, or at least point it out." She began, drawing attention away from the fact she just checked him out shamelessly.

"Wasn't right, what happened to you." He replied stiffly. She snickered, standing up. He watched her pace the room, twisting a knife in her hands, causing him to tense. She noticed.

"I'm not going to stab you lieutenant." She reassured, though it didn't help at all as she went on. She wasn't sure what she felt, confused for sure, as to why she was unable to emotionally process her emotions or evaluate the information she heard, as if her mind was barring her from contextualizing her state of mind. She knew she wasn't normal, but she couldn't bring herself to accept it and label herself.

"I was 17 when I was taken, you know that. Had a rough upbringing, I won't explain that to you now." She wasn't sure where she was going with this, and neither was he, but he'd listen for a bit to try and understand her more, maybe to trust her more now that she was his teammate. "I can feel emotion you know. Only to a certain degree, I can empathize. Fleeting, but it's there sometimes. I do feel some remorse, but you know how we are in this field. Weakness will get you killed, so you internalize it, you keep it buried underneath everything else, and because my everything else was stripped away with me, it just sits in here." She tapped her temple and shrugged. He understood what she meant, he did that too. He withheld his shame, his guilt, and his remorse, remaining a stone cold figure in the field. He saved the emotional crap for his time alone where he could deal with it in the way he knew how.

"You just let it sit there then?" He pressed, crossing his arms over his chest. She nodded.

"Don't know what to do with it. Lost my sense of self and all I know is this job. I do try though, I try to force some tears like I've seen others do, but the only time these.. feelings present themselves is on my missions, which is why everyone thinks I enjoy it. But I don't, for the record, I just can't control it like you guys do. And I envy you for that." His eyes widened slightly.

"Envy, huh."

"Mhm. You can talk to each other, find common ground and relate, make friends and connections. I can't because I don't feel like you guys do. And then you demonize me and outcast me more than I already am, so. Oops." He thought she was getting upset, but she wasn't, there was not a hint of anger or sadness or negative emotion in her person whatsoever, none that he could see anyway. Her arms were loose and carefree as she swung them around every time she turned her heel to pace back in the direction she just walked in.

"We can help you." Her first sign of feeling was an eye roll with a steady irritated gaze. But she didn't say anything. The idea of needing help repulsed her beyond anything else, made her want to punch a wall and scream, her eyes widened. Anger. There it is, outside of a mission too. She hummed, looking back at him.

"Alright Casper." He grunted, displeased by the new nickname which made her smile widen cheekily. She searched his eyes for a moment, finding entertainment in the small flames in his amber eyes, how they flickered and danced when he found something humorous, how they died out when he found something unamusing or boring, how they raged when he grew angry or determined to finish something with a newfound passion.

She liked to think he had that burn in his eyes when Price spoke to him about the notion of helping her, hoping that he'd care that much even if she didn't want the help, or perhaps she did, that would explain the want would it not? That was a thought for later. For now she'd do her job the way she knew how, she wouldn't change, not yet, not that she knew how anyway.

"We're going out for a drink tomorrow night, care to tag along." He offered, jousting his chin up at her in a heads up manner.

"I don't drink." She replied, monotone as she laid down on her cot, shutting her eyes with a sigh. He watched her body sink into the bed, all stress and tension releasing, and he took that as his dismissal. He shut the door behind him, releasing a breath and walking back to his room, confused and tired where he slept on the day's events.

Though he was curious on how tomorrow would turn out.

And that's it! If you want a series out of this let me know!! It's my first fic and I'll probably binge a bunch because I feel like writing. I'm still trying to figure out the whole border thing I wanna make everything aesthetic or whatever but yeah.

See you guys next time!!

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #fanfic #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod x reader #cod ghost #cod x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw price #cod modern warfare

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autistic-sidestep · 2 months ago

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while i was writing up the wiki article for the heartbreak incident (yes i've been working like a maniac on the wiki) i figured out why sidestep has the burning hair smell and blood in their mouth when they get super stressed out, they're having functional seizures (and auras)!

i didn't actually understand how sidestep could have seizures while not being epileptic, but then i found out that's still possible. anyways, sometimes people smell burning hair or other phantom smells when they're about to have a seizure, and burning hair in particular is a stress scent for sidestep. you can also bite your tongue during a seizure.

they (almost always) trigger when sidestep's facing something very traumatic eg:

the final hb flashback in rebirth (and malin confirmed they're having a seizure in their sleep for the december 2023 qna)

[i]Around you, the apartment shrinks into focus, the hallway ejecting you into the living room. A small, dead space, smelling of feet and antiseptic.[/i] (And burning hair.)

when they wake up in their body at the gala debut, they have the burning hair smell and the taste of blood in their mouth

"It takes a moment to tap in the right sequence, bringing the armor to life; green numbers scroll across the corner of your vision. You can taste metal on your tongue as you feel the Rat King cozy up against your hindbrain, the telltale stench of burning hair tickling your nose as the nanovores contained inside your glove come alive.

triggers if you fuck up setting off the sword of damocles left in argent's head during the bridge fight if you didn't already trigger it in rebirth

("You can feel their thoughts wrap themselves around yours, tugging at you, and you obey, falling back in their grasp, falling back in your body, gasping in pain as you're greeted by what must have been a seizure.")

release the catastrofiend in chapter 19 at the auction (even as the puppet it will trigger) or chapter 20 (mortum shoots you with the disintregun)

end up seeing chen's version of the heartbreak events while attempting to dethread him when you ask him to help you find the threads with too low friendship.

"What…happened?" Things start coming back, uneasy things, terrible memories. You must have blacked out again. Running on empty, too tired, and Chen's mind was a lot tougher to work with than you imagined. "You started seizing up. I was about to call an ambulance when…" His voice drifts off, and you can see it in his eyes. No ambulance. He wouldn't have. Not this time.

it's also possible that this is a defense mechanism against telepathic intrusion

[Ortega's immunity against telepathy as an epileptic] has something to do with the electrical storms in the brain that cause the seizures; there is enough static in there to make it nearly impossible to read ${his} mind. Or in this case, be influenced from the outside.

dunno how well this works if HB is riding shotgun inside their brain though. these moments are often (but not always) accompanied by sidestep's scar level increasing and/or a gate being opened

notably, rat king is Scared of you

You must have had a panic attack. You're five blocks away from the casino; you've walked past your pickup point. Is anybody following you? Your head is hurting too badly to scan for it. Instead, you try to jog the Rat King to life, finding… Nothing? You stop, a cold shiver down your spine, checking the life support…still green. Still alive. They are still alive. Your worried wave of concern prompts a small, questioning reply. [i]A tiny squeak. Barely.[/i] Are you okay? Are you? The answer is no, the Rat King is…terrified. Of you? No. Not anymore. That doesn't make sense.

so it might've been the imposter (or heartbreak?) briefly taking the wheel.

also, food for thought, from yoinking carter's memories.

It's hard to keep mental shields up under torture. You should know. You do know. Your helmet disguises the twitch on your face as you kneel down and take hold of Carter's face. Physical contact is not needed, but it makes it easier to focus. Pain makes it easy to slip inside because that's the brain's priority alarm. Unlike panic, which can shut things down, or fear, which can lock things into loops, pain opens everything up. All the gates. All the hidden rooms. Enough pain, and it's impossible to focus on anything but, leaving defenses crumbling and hidden secrets crawling out.

#fhr #fh codediving #fh meta #ramblings #i feel high figuring this out lol it might also be because it's 5am lmao

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frannyzooey · 1 year ago

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On The Green: 1

Ezra x f!reader

Rating: Mature (violence, slight gore, killing - typical Ezra 😌 — will be explicit in later chapters)

Summary: Two strangers meet.

a/n: New series alert! Man alive first chapters are hard, and so I am going to yeet this into the universe before looking at it anymore. I owe everything to @bageldaddy for educating me hardcore and for being so extremely kind and thorough, and to @the-ginger-hedge-witch for her Ezra eyes and inspiration and to @familyvideostevie for her support and enthusiasm and notes. It took a VILLAGE to get through this one. Enjoy meeting our stranger. :)

You come to surrounded by unnatural stillness.

An absence felt in the air surrounding you, there is something about it that tugs at the foggy corners of your brain, beckoning you closer to the surface. You try to listen for anything beyond the ringing in your ears, and there is…something.

A beeping sound emerging through the fog, its incessant chirping grows clearer. You blink slowly, your limbs made of lead when you try to turn your head. Instead of trying to investigate, you let yourself slip slowly back into the lush darkness, closing your eyes.

But the strangeness of the silence tugs at you, and the beeping gets louder.

Splices of memory come through in sharp flashes:

The deep, bone-shaking tremble of turbulence.

The grating sound of tearing metal.

Beeping - so much fucking beeping, every sensor in the transport pod going off - and the whole cabin jerking to the left, your body weight pushing against the fabric restraints, your dad’s voice raw with hoarseness as he screams orders at you and –

Oh shit. Your dad.

Your eyes pop open, and you sit up - or rather, you try to, but every muscle resists. Battered and bruised, you fumble at your harness with clumsy, shaking fingers. Looking up as it finally clicks open, you’re about to leap from the chair when you freeze.

He’s there next to you, unmoving.

Dead.

“Dad?” you whisper.

You can see without even checking for a pulse that he’s gone. That’s the feeling that pulled you awake, the vibration of life gone from the air. The stillness weighs heavy in the small space, and the beeping gets shriller somehow, more noticeable in the utter silence.

The pod shrinks to a claustrophobic dome, and your breathing starts to come fast. Harsh, rapid exhales out of your open mouth and then you’re vomiting, right onto the floor. A cold sweat breaks out under your thermals, and you swallow hard against more bile that threatens to come up.

There is blood splattered on the dash, pooled around the buttons. A deep gash gouged across his temple, his left eye already swollen beyond recognition. You stare at the dark, pulpy wound that runs with blood and with a heave, lose the remaining contents of your stomach.

To have hit his head like that, he must have unbuckled and tried to fix something mid-crash, but why? Why the fuck would he do that? He knew better than that. You try to think about the sequence of events, but there is only a blur. A foggy, black spot in your memory, hazy images obscured by panic.

You remember pieces: watching Puggart Bench grow smaller as you ascended through the atmosphere. The vague details of your father’s latest scheme, along with promises that this would be your last job. The frustration you felt at those words – ones you’ve heard a million times.

You remember rolling your eyes and slipping on your headphones, and then scolding you for not paying attention after he jabbed you in the shoulder to take them off, and then…this. Somehow this. Guilt settles deep in your gut.

Keeping your dazed eyes glued to the floor, you ignore the blood and beeping and the dead fucking body. You crouch low in the safety of your chair, winding your grip around the harness strap as an anchor and you sit for a moment, trying to steady your breathing.

You sit.

And sit.

–

“Think she’s got anything left?”

The words spread condensation across the lower half of his visor, and Ezra listens for an answer he already knows isn’t coming.

He always asks anyway: a constant dangling bait, in hopes his partner will bite.

He hasn’t yet.

Ezra bends back over the rough dug pit, his fingers splaying through the loose dirt. Anything worth digging for is sealed in his case already, but he stalls, thinking.

He had watched the pod streak across the sky; the sight not unusual on the Green. Mercs and prospectors landed here every day to try their luck on the uninhabitable planet, but the speed in which the pod broke through the sky was unusual. Ezra could tell it was going too fast, even from the ground. His dark eyes had tracked the potential opportunity’s descent from behind the shield of his visor, and when the ground shuddered with the impact, he felt it through his gloves.

If it had landed safety, protocol would be to keep his distance – no use needlessly engaging in a potential threat. However, he doubted that was the case after watching it fall to the earth like a stone. If he had to guess, the occupants were probably dead, and therefore, in his favor.

His old pod flashes through his mind; nonfunctional and by now, probably stripped bare. If he doesn’t get there quickly to stake his claim, this one could fall to the same fate. It didn’t look sizeable by any stretch of the imagination, but he doesn’t need big.

He just needs enough to fit one man, and his case.

Ezra keeps his voice light and conversational.

“Did you feel that?”

He looks up at his silent partner, and is met with a blank stare. Or at least Ezra assumes it’s a blank stare, with the man’s visor blackened. He can’t see his face, and has never been able to. He’s had many offers of partnership while on the Green - some out of desperation, some through coercion, some forced upon him – and though his current partner is one of the latter, he had been secretly pleased at the sheer size of him. Brute strength a valuable commodity; the hulking man is more of a utility than a partner.

“Think it’s worthy of our time to investigate, or do you suppose there won’t be much left after a landing like that? If you want, I can go it alone?”

Met with more silence, both from his partner and from the unforgiving atmosphere of the Green, Ezra grimaces with annoyance when his partner starts to walk in the direction of the site without him.

“Hang on now. We approach together.” Climbing out of the pit, the loose soil slips under his boots. He scrambles up as quickly as he can, unwilling to see his chance at the remains slip through his dirt-crusted fingers.

“Now then,” he breathes heavily. “I think it would be befitting of us to use caution in our approach. The passengers may still be alive, and feeling panicked enough to pose a risk. I think –”

The hulk appears to listen to half of what Ezra says, and then turns abruptly mid-sentence, walking away.

Snatching up his case, Ezra switches off the comm link in his helmet and his expression falls from tactful to annoyance. His eyes narrow on the man’s broad back, his fingers itching for his thrower.

Grumbling, he follows.

“Fucking idiot.”

–

You’re going to have to touch it.

You wonder what it will feel like – stiff with rigor? Still pliant with traces of warmth? Heavy and impossible to move?

In all the ways you imagined you’d probably find your father dead, you somehow hadn’t thought about the logistics of actually moving his body. You imagined someone else would be the one responsible for it. Medical staff, most likely, who were used to the clammy skin and the stiff weight of death.

Not you.

Yet another thing you’ll have to do unwillingly for him.

The reason you’re on this godforsaken planet in the first place, he’d forced you along to help him pay a debt owed for those fucking drops he relied on to get through his days. Days that bled into nights spent waiting for him, more his parent than his child. A freefall into the nomad life since your mother died, you’d been trailing behind him for years - an afterthought, only remembered when he needed something.

A reluctant digging partner when he forced you to be, but also a navigator, a cook, a laundress, a caretaker. You were a lot of things to him, but never the one you wanted to be the most.

Never a daughter.

Your eyes slowly scan the disarray of the cabin, taking in the damage. For all the things he asked you to do, he had kept you in the dark when it came to any actual useful skills that might help you in this situation. Prospecting, digging, self-defense – anything that would have afforded you a glimpse at the possibility of independence – all of those were kept from your reach.

Never a mechanic either, unfortunately for you. How the fuck you’re going to fix this thing, you have no idea. The manuals for it were tucked away somewhere, but they required at least a basic understanding, and you have barely that.

You could stick with the harvesting plan he had vaguely outlined to you on the way here (assuming you could even find the gems, let alone dig them up), try to come back and fix your pod during the evenings (assuming you could even figure it out) and then try to catch the next slingback home (assuming you could even get off this planet).

Your other option would be…none. There are no other options.

The entire situation expands into something overwhelming, each step far outside your base of knowledge and your breathing starts to come fast again. You scold yourself, willing it to slow.

Panicking again isn’t going to help shit.

Wrestling with your emotions, you take a deep inhale and close your eyes, focusing on the first step.

Before anything else, you have to move him.

–

Through the edges of lush greenery, a pod.

Ezra tries to tamp down his excitement, kicking his senses into high alert to scan for whomever it belongs to - but there is nothing.

Fucking silence, the bane of his existence.

Though in this case, a good sign.

His own pod taken from him months ago in a standoff between himself and his former crew, this off-white piece of rubbish appears as treasure to him. It’s banged up for sure: one of the engines loose from the frame and the metal surrounding the bottom crumpled from hard impact. Unlikely that anyone survived the crash, anticipation thrums through him at the harvest in front of him.

Keeping his expression measured, he beckons his partner to approach with him, silently advising caution.

The idiot doesn’t though. Instead, he stomps forward and punches at the hatch button with force.

Ezra frowns deeply, anger slipping into his tone. “Hey,” he reprimands sharply.

The man pays Ezra no mind as the ramp slowly opens.

–

One hand extended towards your dad’s shoulder, it hangs hesitantly in the air for a moment. Inching forward, you try to summon every ounce of bravery that you have and just when it’s about to touch—

A loud thump sounds outside the pod, and your hand jerks back. Crouching low along the side of the pod, you crawl through the ship's scattered contents all over the floor and grab the thrower, trying to desperately wind a sufficient charge for a shot or two. The rummaging outside grows louder, and you crouch behind your chair, gripping the weapon in your sweat slick hands. Panic floods through your veins, the sharp stink of fear oozing from your pores as your body shivers with adrenaline, and you flex your hold on your weapon.

The door to the pod opens with a hiss, and two men emerge.

One slighter than the other, which isn’t saying much—anyone would be slight compared to the size of the second man. You aren’t even sure how he managed to get into the pod, between the width of his body and his height.

Rising swiftly, you point the weapon at them.

“Stop,” you force out, trying to mask the tremble in your voice.

The lithe man freezes, surprise showing on his face for a split second before disappearing. Tilting his helmet in thought, he speaks.

“Now this is something I’ve never seen in all my time in the Green,” he muses with a drawl. “A little girl.”

A statement, not a question, and you bristle while he continues to study you curiously.

“Leave, or I’ll shoot.”

Your finger flexes on the trigger, and he raises his hands in front of him.

“Calm down, little bird. My partner and I merely ventured this way to see if all was okay after that crash we heard.” His eyes scan the cabin, a scattered mess. “Seems it was quite the landing.”

Shuffling your stance a fraction closer, you keep the thrower trained on them. “I’m fine. Now please. Go.”

“Doesn’t look like you’re fine.” He sounds completely unbothered, like you aren’t pointing a weapon directly at him. Taking a slow step forward, he peers around you. “Your partner sure doesn’t seem fine.”

“He’s not my partner. It’s my –” You freeze, scolding yourself for immediately volunteering information and his gaze drops down to your father’s lifeless form. The stranger's face sobers, and he looks back at you.

His jaw shifting in thought, his partner seems to grow bored of the conversation and takes a heavy step forward, advancing on you.

“Stop,” you try to order, panic creeping into the command, but he doesn’t. He keeps going, his large arm reaching towards your thrower. His massive grip choking the barrel, he rips it clean from your hands before you can even think about stopping him, and you crouch back behind your chair, trembling.

“My apologies for my partner, little one. He’s not keen on having weapons pointed at him. You can understand, I’m sure. Why don’t you come out from behind that chair and let’s talk. A deal, if you’re open to it.”

You don’t want to strike a deal with them. You know that any deal you attempt to broker on your behalf is going to be in their favor no matter what the conditions are. Your father never taught you the skills of negotiation – those were always done out of sight. Your mouth dries, sweat beading along your nape. What fucking deal could there even be to make that doesn’t end up with you dead? Or worse?

With so much happening in the last two hours, it’s hard to process anything, let alone a negotiation with deadly strangers on a hostile planet. How you handle this situation could be literally life or death for you, and you beg your brain to pick up pace.

Please. Please. Come on, think.

Your mind still struggling but knowing you’re running out of time, you force yourself back up.

“The deal was leave, and I won’t shoot.”

He only grins at that, and rage at the unfairness of it all flares bright through you.

“Besides, why should I believe anything you say? You’ll probably just kill me the first chance you get.”

“Why would you assume I intend harm?”

You don’t have anything to say to that, instead looking at his partner. Fear at his sheer size displays clearly on your face no matter how hard to try to mask it. “Why else would he steal my gun? Shoot me first before I can shoot, right?”

“If that was the case, he would have shot you already.” He lets a beat pass, his eyes narrowing in their focus on you. “Still could though, I guess.”

There is something behind the indifference in his voice, something in his eyes that begs you silently to listen to him — but then his partner raises his thrower, and several things happen at once.

You whimper, dunking behind the tattered chair.

The smaller man whips his railgun from his hip, pulling the trigger.

You scream, and the bullet hits his partner square in the chest.

The larger man stumbles forward as if to grab him but the smaller one shoots him again, the second shot landing in his gut. The force of the close shot pushes the larger man backwards, his heavy body slamming into the pod wall.

He slumps down, collapsing into a lifeless heap.

There is a beat of weighted silence; your form frozen.

The roguish man’s profile faces you: dark features partially obscured by the dome of his helmet, you can see closely shorn brown hair in matted disarray with a shock of white that smears just above his temple. Black eyes that glimmer in the fluorescent light, the edges lined with age. Tanned skin, a strong nose, plush lips under a mustache.

He stares at his dead partner with something akin to satisfaction, and it turns your stomach to think of not only how quickly he resorted to violence, but also how much he seems to enjoy it.

“Well would you look at that. Now we have two to move.”

Still in shock, the violent scene in front of you startles you just as much as his nonchalance does. You watch as he turns to face you; a hooked scar marring the skin under his eye.

“Now little one,” he says with seeming politeness. “You ready to hear that deal?”

#ezra prospect #ezra prospect x you #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect/you #ezra prospect/reader #ezra x you #ezra x reader #ezra/you #ezra/reader #pedro pascal

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mariacallous · 2 months ago

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This prediction is based on several decades of research that my colleagues and I have been undertaking at the University of Oxford to establish what makes people willing to fight and die for their groups. We use a variety of methods, including interviews, surveys, and psychological experiments to collect data from a wide range of groups, such as tribal warriors, armed insurgents, terrorists, conventional soldiers, religious fundamentalists, and violent football fans.

We have found that life-changing and group-defining experiences cause our personal and collective identities to become fused together. We call it “identity fusion.” Fused individuals will stop at nothing to advance the interests of their groups, and this applies not only to acts we would applaud as heroic—such as rescuing children from burning buildings or taking a bullet for one’s comrades—but also acts of suicide terrorism.

Fusion is commonly measured by showing people a small circle (representing you) and a big circle (representing your group) and placing pairs of such circles in a sequence so that they overlap to varying degrees: not at all, then just a little bit, then a bit more, and so on until the little circle is completely enclosed in the big circle. Then people are asked which pair of circles best captures their relationship with the group. People who choose the one in which the little circle is inside the big circle are said to be “fused.” Those are people who love their group so much that they will do almost anything to protect it.

This isn’t unique to humans. Some species of birds will feign a broken wing to draw a predator away from their fledglings. One species—the superb fairy wren of Australasia—lures predators away from their young by making darting movements and squeaky sounds to imitate the behavior of a delectable mouse. Humans too will typically go to great lengths to protect their genetic relatives, especially their children who (except for identical twins) share more of their genes than other family members. But—unusually in the animal kingdom—humans often go further still by putting themselves in harm’s way to protect groups of genetically unrelated members of the tribe. In ancient prehistory, such tribes were small enough that everyone knew everybody else. These local groups bonded through shared ordeals such as painful initiations, by hunting dangerous animals together, and by fighting bravely on the battlefield.

Nowadays, however, fusion is scaled up to vastly bigger groups, thanks to the ability of the world’s media—including social media—to fill our heads with images of horrendous suffering in faraway regional conflicts.

When I met with one of the former leaders of the terrorist organization Jemaah Islamiyah in Indonesia, he told me he first became radicalized in the 1980s after reading newspaper reports about the treatment of fellow Muslims by Russian soldiers in Afghanistan. Twenty years later, however, nearly a third of American extremists were radicalized via social media feeds, and by 2016 that proportion had risen to about three quarters. Smartphones and immersive reporting shrinks the world to such an extent that forms of shared suffering in face-to-face groups can now be largely recreated and spread to millions of people across thousands of miles at the click of a button.

Fusion based on shared suffering may be powerful, but is not sufficient by itself to motivate violent extremism. Our research suggests that three other ingredients are also necessary to produce the deadly cocktail: outgroup threat, demonization of the enemy, and the belief that peaceful alternatives are lacking. In regions such as Gaza, where the sufferings of civilians are regularly captured on video and shared around the world, it is only natural that rates of fusion among those watching on in horror will increase. If people believe that peaceful solutions are impossible, violent extremism will spiral.

Surprisingly, however, a remedy may lie in the fusion mechanism itself. Our research has shown that when Muslim and Jewish participants reflect on the sufferings of the outgroup in the Gaza conflict, this has strikingly positive effects on their attitudes toward each other, despite initial feelings of hostility. Investigations into the fusion mechanism also suggest that it can strengthen over time, when people reflect for weeks and months on their shared experiences of suffering. Consequently, there is still time to prevent my bleak prediction for 2025 from being realized.

Acknowledging shared suffering on both sides of human conflict is often a pathway to imagining peaceful solutions. But first we need to find better ways of ensuring that more people around the world are exposed to the sufferings of those on the other side of the conflicts they are personally most affected by. This may seem like an impossible task in a world where politics is becoming more divisive, foreign policy more parochial, and social media bubbles more impenetrable. However, recognizing the psychology that compels us toward violent or peaceful outcomes is the first step to a solution. How we manage that psychology in 2025 may profoundly influence the kind of world that future generations inherit.

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thatlotuscookie · 5 months ago

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OFFICIAL THATLOTUSCOOKIE MASTERLIST

Organized alphabetically by fandom & title

ATTACK ON TITAN

- ✧ The Cost of Betrayal (Genre: NSFW, Dark, Angst)

Characters: Porco Galliard x Spy!Reader (Fem!Reader), Reiner, Colt Rating: E Summary: When you're caught spying by Porco, you're punished in the most degrading way in front of the other male warriors. Content Warnings: Dub-Con, Public Humiliation, Voyeurism, Power Play, Rough Sex, Non-Con Implied, Gangbang (Implied), Dominance, Submission, Punishment, Degradation, Betrayal Word Count: 2959 words // 16k chars

DEMON SLAYER

- ✧ Rest in His Arms (Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff)

Characters: Tanjiro Kamado x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T Summary: After a brutal battle, you find yourself severely injured and struggling to keep going. Tanjiro, ever protective, stays by your side, taking care of you despite his own exhaustion. Vulnerability may feel like weakness, but in Tanjiro's arms, it feels safe. Content Warnings: Injury, blood, emotional distress, caretaking, mention of exhaustion. WC: 943 words // 5.3k chars

DC ANIMATED UNIVERSE

- ✧ Morning After (Genre: Smut, Romance)

Characters: Inque x Male!Reader Rating: E Summary: The morning after, Inque can't help but want more of you. Content Warnings: Older woman/younger man, MILF, wet & messy, somnophilia, shrinking, deep penetration, morning wood, male and female orgasms, riding, piv, blowjobs, aftercare. MDNI: 18+ content, not suitable for minors. WC: 2387 words // 13.7 chars

EATERNAL NOCTURNAL

- ✧ Growing Pains (Genre: Fantasy, Introspection, Romance, Slight Hurt/Comfort)

Characters: Eve x N Rating: T Summary: Eve finds herself in a strange dream where she’s dressed as Pinocchio, and her insecurities begin manifesting in surreal ways. As she tries to grapple with her fears and self-doubt, she discovers just how burdensome her own lies to herself have become—until N steps in, offering the support she didn’t know she needed. Content/Tags: Dream sequences, self-doubt, magical realism, humor, comfort, light romance, introspection, character development WC: 1396 // 7.8k words

FAIRY TAIL

- ✧ Overprotective Flames (Genre: Fluff, Romance, Humor)

Characters: Natsu Dragneel x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: You asked Natsu to walk you to the guild hall, and what you got was an overprotective dragon slayer scaring everyone off. You didn't expect his actions to lead to a heartfelt confession, but maybe there’s more behind his behavior than you thought. ✧ Content/Tags: Overprotective Natsu, Fluff, Confession, Mutual Pining, Slight Embarrassment, Best Friends to Lovers, Guild Dynamics WC: 987 words // 5.5k chars

- ✧ Brandish's NSFW/Kinky Headcanons (Genre: NSFW, Headcanons)

Character: Brandish Myuu Genre: Smut, Fluff Rating: E Summary: Brandish's playful and dominant nature when it comes to her powers of size manipulation and how she uses them in intimate situations with her S/O (Male). From teasing and control to aftercare and possessiveness. Content Warnings: MDNI, Size manipulation, orgasm denial, overstimulation, public teasing, dirty talk, degrading praise, and power dynamics. MDNI: 18+ content, not suitable for minors.

HAIKYUU!!

- ✧ A Quiet Heart, A Loud Confession (Genre: Fluff, Romance)

Characters: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader (Fem!Reader) Rating: T Summary: You’ve always admired Kuroo from afar, thinking someone like him would never look at someone like you. But little did you know, he’s been watching you too, waiting for the right moment to confess. Content/Tags: Fluff, Romance, Confession, Mutual Pining, Shy!Reader, Friends to Lovers, Teasing, Comfort WC: 1169 words // 6.4k chars

- ✧ A Heartfelt Delivery (Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Romance)

Characters: Yamaguchi Tadashi x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T Summary: When a surprise package from Tadashi arrives, it’s filled with items so thoughtful and kind that it feels like he knew exactly how to ease the weight on your shoulders. Content/Tags: Comfort Items, Thoughtful Gestures, Emotional Support, Established Relationship, Reader in Stressful Situations, Tadashi Being an Angel :3 WC: 925 words // 5.1k chars

- ✧ Burger King of My Heart (Genre: Humor, Fluff, Established Relationship)

Characters: Kenma Kozume x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: G Summary: When you casually ask Kenma for Burger King, you never imagined he’d take it literally—and buy the entire franchise. Content/Tags: Kenma Being Kenma, Rich Boy Hijinks, Social Media Memes, Established Relationship, Reader in Disbelief, Humor with a Dash of Fluff WC: 713 words // 4.1k chars

- ✧ Finding Comfort (Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort)

Characters: Kōrai Hoshiumi x Bisexual!Reader, Pansexual!Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T Summary: After your parents discover your diary, you feel lost and alone, facing the threat of losing your college funds just for being yourself. When Hoshiumi shows up, he reminds you that you're not a mistake and that you'll get through this together. Content Warnings: LGTBQPhobia, parental rejection, anxiety, emotional distress WC: 667 words // 3.7k chars

- ✧ Haunting Grounds (Genre: Fluff, Humor, Romance)

Characters: Shōhei Fukunaga x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T Summary: Self explanatory i guess? Y/N and their dark humor xd Content/Tags: Dark humor, light romance, banter, comfort, morbidish jokes, nothing terrible WC: 490 words // 2.6k chars

- ✧ Just Another Perfect Evening (Genre: Fluff, Romance)

Characters: Sugawara Koushi x Furry!Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: G Summary: After a long practice, Sugawara meets you outside the gym, ready to relax with you. His warmth and genuine affection make you feel completely accepted, and the evening unfolds as an unspoken reminder that he sees you for who you are, quirks and all. Content/Tags: Furry!Reader, established relationship, wholesome acceptance, soft romance, casual affection, Suga being a sweetheart, light blushing, tender words, slice-of-life vibes WC: 672 words // 3.7k chars

- ✧ Run Away With Me (Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life)

Characters: Semi Eita x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T Summary: Overwhelmed by the noise of life, you dream of running away. When you finally confess your desire for a simpler existence, Semi surprises you by sharing the same wish. Together, you start building a new life, one where love and nature are all you need. Content/Tags: Comfort, Cottagecore Aesthetic, Established Relationship, Found Peace, Dreams of Simplicity, Domestic Bliss WC: 1554 words // 8.6 chars

- ✧ Serenity (Genre: Fluff, Romance)

Characters: Yamaguchi Tadashi x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: G Summary: Yamaguchi overhears you singing and is unexpectedly captivated by it. Caught off guard, he can’t help but feel closer to you, hoping to hear it again sometime—if you'll let him in. Content/Tags: Overhearing, shy confession,mutual pining, established friendship, Yamaguchi appreciation, reader who sings, light blushing, emotional i suppose :3 WC: 294 words // 1.6k words

- ✧ Lost in a Spell (Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt.Comfort)

Characters: Aran Ojiro x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: A night of fun at a magic show takes a turn when the magician accidentally hypnotizes you into forgetting who Aran is. Now, with the person he loves not recognizing him, Aran faces the challenge of helping you remember the memories you shared. Content Warnings: Hypnosis, Amnesia, Emotional Angst, Soft!Aran, Hurt/Comfort, Memory Loss, Relationship Struggles, Fluff Ending WC: 1133 words // 6.3k chars

- ✧ Paintbrushes and Equations (Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life)

Characters: Math!TeacherTsukishima Kei x Art Teacher!Reader, Fem!Reader Rating: G Summary: Mr. Tsukishima Kei, the strict math teacher known for his tough assignments, and Ms. Y/N, the quirky art teacher adored by students, try to keep their budding relationship under wraps. But between secret coffee runs and after-school visits, it doesn’t take long for their students to catch on. Content/Tags: Secret Relationship, Soft Tsukishima, Teacher AU, Slow-burn Romance, Fluff and Humor WC: 1126 words // 6.8k chars

- ✧ Turning the Day Around (Genre: Fluff, Comfort)

Characters: Oikawa Tooru x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: G Summary: After a rough day, Y/N feels down until Oikawa shows up, ready to lighten the mood with his charm and humor. He offers his undying love, a heartfelt song, and a promise of ice cream. Content/Tags: Comfort, Friendship, Light Humor WC: 267 words // 1.4k chars

- ✧ The Gifts You Give (Genre: Fluff, Romance)

Characters: Oikawa Tooru x Fem!Reader Summary: Oikawa is used to being adored by fans, but it’s the small, thoughtful gifts from his girlfriend that make his heart skip a beat. Each token, whether it’s a wildflower or a shiny pebble, carries the love she has for him in the simplest, most meaningful ways. Content/Tags: Head Over Heels Oikawa, Fluff, Love Confessions, Gift-Giving, Relationship Development, Y/N and Oikawa ROMANCE!! WC: 984 words // 5.5k chars

- ✧ You Should've Come to Shiratorizawa (Genre: Fluff, Humor, Crackhead Y/N)

Characters: Oikawa Tooru x Reader (Gender Neutral), Ushijima Wakatoshi Rating: G Summary: I think it speaks for itself? LOL. just a short thing Content/Tags: Fluff, Humor, Light-Hearted Rivalry WC: 166 words // 1002 chars

THE INCREDIBLES

- ✧ Elastic Love (Genre: Fluff, Romance, Smut)

Characters: Helen Parr (Elastigirl) x Male!Reader Rating: SFW: T | NSFW: M/Explicit Format: Headcanons Summary: Helen Parr is a woman of many talents. She knows exactly how to love and tease you, both inside and outside of the bedroom. From her nurturing maternal instincts to her daring and dominant nature, she keeps you on your toes and utterly smitten. Content Warnings: Fluff, Comfort, Playful Teasing, Maternal Instincts, Domestic Vibes, Dirty Talk, Power Play, Degradation & Praise, Public Teasing, Overstimulation, Biting/Marking, Exhibitionism, Use of Powers in NSFW Scenarios, Creative Use of Toys

JUJUTSU KAISEN

- ✧ Shattered Pride (Genre: Dark, Revenge, NSFW)

Characters: Naoya Zenin x Fem!Reader Rating: E Summary: After framing Naoya to make his clan think he was gay, Naoya seeks revenge—finding you and proving, in his own cruel way, just how wrong your assumption was. Content Warnings: Noncon, virgin reader, homophobia (from his clan), rough sex, breeding kink, slight choking, degrading, humiliation, revenge sex, slight mentions of boot camp MDNI: 18+ content, not suitable for minors WC: 1401 words // 7.9k char

KING OF FIGHTERS

- ✧ Shadows of Desire (Genre: Smut, Romance)

Characters: Mai-Li x Male!Reader Genre: Smut, Romance Rating: E Summary: In the dojo, the heat between you and Mai-Li reaches a boiling point, transforming the session into something else entirely. Content Warnings: Kissing, MDNI, Biting, Hickeys, Oral sex (Mai receiving), Large breasts, Titfuck, Cum on tits, Thick thighs, Thigh worship, Thighjob (reader receiving), Rough sex, Creampie, Aftercare MDNI: 18+ content, not suitable for minors. WC: 1781 words // 10k chars

MY HERO ACADEMIA

- ✧ A Safe Haven (Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort)

Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: You’ve been carrying the weight of your toxic home life for far too long, never telling anyone about the struggles you face. Not even Dabi, despite how close you’ve grown. After a particularly rough day, you head to the hideout, emotionally drained. Dabi notices something is off and decides to take care of you. In his own way, he shows you that you don’t have to handle everything alone. Content Warnings: Toxic household, Emotional exhaustion, Mentions of mental health struggles, Heavy themes, Comfort, Slight language. WC: 1116 words // 6.1k chars

- ✧ Awhile (Genre: Romance, Fluff, Slight Angst)

Characters: Spinner (Shuichi Iguchi) x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: After a tough mission, Spinner finds himself caring for you, finally revealing his feelings that have been bottled up for too long. As he confesses, an unexpected kiss sparks a moment of warmth and understanding between the two of you Content Warnings: Mild injury, soft angst, fluff, confession, light kiss WC: 825 words // 4.6k chars

- ✧ A Night to Remember (Genre: Romance, Humor, Fluff)

Characters: Katsuki Bakugo x Burlesque!Reader, Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: After a mission leads him to a burlesque club, pro hero Bakugo finds himself enchanted by the captivating performer, you. Content/Tags: Burlesque!Reader, Bakugo crushing hard, Soft!Bakugo, Love at first sight lol WC: 733 words // 4291 chars

- ✧ A Home for the Wounded (Genre: Romance, Drama, Slight Angst)

Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: You’re just a regular civilian with a healing quirk that can only heal bleeding wounds. One day, you find Dabi unconscious after a mission gone wrong. Content Warnings/Tags: Depictions of injury, Discussions of mental health, Dabi x Reader, Healing Quirk, Vulnerability, Slow Burn, Emotional Growth, Domestic Fluff, Comfort WC: 3120 words // 17k chars

- ✧ Because Of You (Genre: Angst, Romance, Hurt/Comfort)

Characters: Dabi x Reader (Fem!Reader) Rating: M Summary: Often hiding your mental struggles behind a facade of humor, you reach your limit and seek solace in Dabi. Content Warnings: Mental health struggles, Emotional Abuse, Self-Harm Ideation, Strong Language, Themes of Depression/Suicide, Dark Humor WC: 2765 words // 15k char

- ✧ Between Loyalty and Love (Genre: Angst, Romance, Spy)

Chracters: Hawks (Keigo Takami) x Reader (Fem!Reader, Spy!Reader) Rating: T Summary: While working undercover for the League of Villains, you find yourself developing feelings for Hawks. As the line between your growing affection and your mission blurs; you face a heart-wrenching decision: betray the trust of the man you’ve come to care for, or protect him at all costs. Content Warnings: Angst, Betrayal, Emotional turmoil, Spy themes, Mentions of espionage WC: 1647 words // 9.1k chars

- ✧ Breakfast for the Heart (Genre: Fluff, Comfort)

Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: G Summary: After a tough mission leaves you feeling emotionally drained, you retreat to your room to recover. Noticing your distress, Dabi takes it upon himself to cheer you up by making breakfast, despite his lack of cooking skills. Content/Tags: Soft!Dabi, Emotional Support, Breakfast, Comfort, Dabi panicking slightly (he wants to impress you so bad), DABI DETERMINATION ASWELL :p WC: 1040 words // 5.7k chars

- ✧ Behind the Walls (Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort)

Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: After a rough mission, Dabi’s constant criticism has you questioning your worth within the League. When a migraine and fever take you down, Dabi finds himself reluctantly stepping in, his unexpected gentleness hinting at feelings he’s tried to hide for so long. Content Warnings: Emotional Hurt, Illness/Injury Care, Soft Dabi Moments, Mild Swearing, Vulnerability, Dabi being a dickhead xd WC: 2162 words // 12k chars

- ✧ Cuddles and Ponytails (Genre: Fluff, Romance)

Characters: Dabi x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T Summary: After a long, exhausting mission, you and Dabi return to your shared hideout. You both find comfort in each other, reminding yourselves that even in the chaos of your world, it’s the small moments that truly matter. Content/Tags: Fluff, Cuddling, Forehead Kisses, Playful, Domestic, Soft Dabi, Hair Tying, Soft!Dabi WC: 915 words // 5.1k chars

- ✧ Drunken Confessions (Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy, Slight Angst)

Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: One night after a mission, a tipsy Dabi starts acting surprisingly childish around you. Pouty, picky, and a little loose-lipped, he begins to spill his secrets, including his hidden crush on you and a surprising confession about his family. Content Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, drinking, fluff, confession, humor, slight angst WC: 2349 words // 13k chars

- ✧ Electric Comfort (Genre: Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Romance, Slice of Life)

Characters: Denki Kaminari x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T Summary: The library is eerily quiet as you grapple with anxiety over upcoming exams. Just when the pressure feels overwhelming, Denki steps in, offering support. Content Warnings: Anxiety, anxiety triggers, emotional support, study session, school life, comfort, light romance (denki is crushing on you), panic attacks, self-doubt, peer pressure. WC: 1414 words // 8.1k chars

- ✧ Fragile (Genre: Angst, Romance)

Characters: Bakugo Katsuki x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T Summary: A mission goes wrong, and you’re severely injured. Bakugo’s reaction exposes feelings he’s kept hidden. Content Warnings: Injury, blood, mild language, emotional distress WC: 1008 words // 5.6k chars

- ✧ Fevered Affection (Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort)

Characters: Dabi x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T Summary: Dabi isn’t one to show weakness, but a nasty fever leaves him vulnerable and in desperate need of comfort. You’re there to care for him, and as his defenses drop, he reveals a softer side that he rarely lets anyone see. Content/Tags: Sickness, Vulnerability, Light Teasing, Soft Dabi, Sick!Dabi WC: 805 words // 4.5k chars

- ✧ Gentle Comfort (Genre: Slight Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort)

Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: You’re on your period and feeling like absolute crap, but Dabi always knows how to help. With a heating pad, plushies, chocolates- and cuddles, your boyfriend always knows how to make your pain a bit more bearable. Content/Tags: Period Pain, Comfort, Fluff, Thoughtful Dabi, Soft!Dabi, we LOVE a caring king, Established Relationship, Physical Pain (CRAMPS), Emotional Vulnerability WC: 895 words // 4.9k chars

- ✧ Home is With You (Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst - Fluff)

Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: In the darkness of the night, Dabi battles the ghosts of his past while you offer him the comfort he struggles to accept. Content Warnings: Nightmares, Emotional Distress, Mentions of a Toxic/Abusive Household, Vulnerability, Tears WC: 1594 words // 8.6k chars

- ✧ Haunted Mansion Shenanigans (Genre: Halloween, Fluff, Humor)

Characters: Shigaraki, Dabi, Kurogiri, Toga, Reader (Gender Neutral), theres also a bit of Dabi x Reader loll i got carried away w my fav villain udwoq Rating: T Summary: It's Halloween season, and your family's old mansion becomes the perfect backdrop for a gathering of the League of Villains. Content Warnings: None really, ig Horror elements?? LMAO. Language WC: 3007 words // 17k chars

- ✧ Here With Me (Genre: Angst, Romance)

Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: As Dabi prepares to leave for the final battle, time slips away, leaving him with so many things left unsaid. He won't have the chance to tell you how much he loves you or how badly he wishes things were different. The engagement ring hidden in his pocket feels heavier than ever. Content Warnings/Tags: Themes of violence, emotional turmoil, intense conversations about past trauma, and the potential for character death, angst and more angst, SPOILERS. Dabi has an engagement ring for reader (im balling my eyes out) WC: 2057 words // 11k chars

- ✧ Hidden Flames (Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Fluff)

Characters: Dabi x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T Summary: After a mission leaves Dabi battered and exhausted, he retreats to his room to nurse his wounds alone. When you show up, intent on caring for him, he’s reluctant at first. But as you treat his injuries, kissing his scars and reminding him that he doesn’t have to face everything alone, Dabi realizes just how much he values your presence. Content/Tags: Injuries, Vulnerability, Comfort, Mutual Pining, Scar Kisses, Established Crush, Soft Dabi, Hurt/Comfort WC: 1365 words // 7.4k

- ✧ Mornings With You (Genre: Fluff, Romance)

Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: A rare lazy morning with Dabi, where the world outside doesn't exist, and it's just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. Content/Tags: Fluff, Domestic Comfort, Lazy Morning, Clingy Dabi, Soft Moments, Possessive Dabi, Soft!Dabi WC: 892 words // 4.9k chars

- ✧ Morning Bliss (Genre: Fluff, Romance)

Characters: Spinner (Shuichi Iguchi) x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: Wrapped in the warmth of a cozy morning, you’re hesitant to leave the comfort of your bed—especially with Spinner holding you close, his arms wrapping around you like a personal blanket. As you snuggle in, the two of you agree: the outside world can wait. Content/Tags: Cuddling :3, Spinner being a teddy bear, cozy shizzle n being lazy together<3 WC: 838 words // 4.7k chars

- ✧ Midnight Comfort (Genre: Fluff, Family, Comfort)

Characters: Aizawa Shota x Present Mic (Hizashi Yamada), Eri Rating: G Summary: The night is quiet as Aizawa drifts into a deep sleep, but a small hand tugging on his sleeve pulls him awake. Eri, flushed with fever and feeling unwell, has come to him for comfort. Joined by Present Mic, the two heroes do all they can to soothe her fears and ease her discomfort. Content/Tags: Sick!Eri, gentle comfort, established family dynamics, Aizawa and Present Mic caring for Eri. WC: 554 words // 3.1k chars

- ✧ Mrs. Todoroki in the Making (Genre: Fluff, Humor, Romance)

Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: After a mission, you, being drunk, call Dabi to take you home, only to spill some wild confessions about him being a Todoroki and claiming you'll be "Mrs. Todoroki" one day. Content/Tags: Fluff, Humor, Confessions, Drunk Confession, Dabi Teasing, Light Angst, Embarrassment, Established Relationship WC: 1200 words // 6.7k chars

- ✧ Ponytails of Comfort (Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Slight Angst)

Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: After a draining mission, you come home feeling defeated. Dabi notices your mood and offers a lighthearted way to help you unwind by letting you style his hair- again. Content/Tags: Soft!Dabi, Emotional Support, Fluff, Hair Styling, HEALTHY RELATIONSHIPSS WC: 1094 words // 6.2k chars

- ✧ Pain Killers (Genre: Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst)

Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: You’re curled up in bed with a splitting headache, the pain nearly unbearable—until Dabi slips into the room and wraps you in his arms. His gentle touch and quiet humming help you find peace, and as you drift off, you realize there’s no place safer than here with him. Content/Tags: Soft!Dabi, Dabi humming a lullaby LMAO, comfort, cuddling, fluff, soft mementoossss, kissy kissing WC: 1144 words // 6.3k chars

- ✧ Stardust & Dynamite (Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slightly Suggestive)

Characters: Pro Hero Bakugo Katsuki x Popstar Reader (Fem!Reader) Rating: T Summary: On the final night of your Short N’ Sweet tour, you dedicate your most famous song, “Juno,” to the person who holds your heart—Pro Hero Bakugo, your fiancé. As the lyrics hint at a future together, Bakugo’s reaction is... heated. Content Warnings: Public performance, slight suggestiveness, mention of starting a family, fame/spotlight, spicy lyrics WC: 1128 words // 6.3k chars

- ✧ Shattered Glass (Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff)

Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: Dabi's need to provoke you backfires when you leave in anger, leading to a kidnapping that leaves you fighting for survival. But sometimes, in the darkest moments, the light can find its way back. Content Warnings: Kidnapping, Serious Injuries, Panic Attacks, Emotional Vulnerability, Dabi making the reader jealous on purpose. WC: 4989 words // 28k chars

- ✧ Silent Embrace (Genre: Romance, Comfort, Slight Angst, Fluff)

Characters: Dabi x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: T Summary: Dabi isn’t one for words, but when he finds himself wrapped around you in the quiet, there’s no need for them. He lets his guard down, revealing the warmth he usually hides. Content/Tags: Fluff, Light Angst, Cuddling, Established Relationship WC: 1002 words // 5.6k characters

- ✧ The Place Where I Belong (Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff)

Characters: Todoroki Shoto x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: Todoroki’s nightmares haunt him in the middle of the night, and only you can help him find peace. Content Warnings: Panic attack, mentions of childhood trauma, brief mention of Endeavor (father/abuse-related trauma). WC: 923 // 5.1k chars

- ✧ Tiny Flames (Genre: Romance, Action, Comedy)

Characters: Chibi!Dabi x Fem!Reader) Rating: T Summary: You’ve made a name for yourself as a feared solo villain. As your eighteenth birthday arrives, you eagerly await the appearance of your soulmate's chibi form. But when midnight strikes without any sign, you resign yourself to the belief that perhaps soulmates are just a myth. However, after a particularly exhausting mission, a sudden flash of light brings Chibi Dabi into your life. Content Warnings: Minor language?, themes of villainy WC: 1612 words // 9.4k chars

- ✧ Todoroki Shoto's Perfect Date (Genre: Fluff, Romance, Headcanons)

Character: Todoroki Shoto Rating: G Summary: Todoroki Shoto's idea of a perfect date is something simple yet meaningful, filled with quiet moments and subtle affection that show just how much he values being with you. Content Warnings: None

- ✧ The Luckiest (Genre: Fluff, Romance)

Characters: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: Shigaraki doesn't understand how you ended up with him, not like he's complaining. He's the luckiest man alive. Content/Tags: Fluff, Light Angst, Emotional Vulnerability, Domestic Moments, Soft!Shigaraki WC: 1245 words // 6.9k chars

- ✧ Unspoken Affection (Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy, Slight Angst)

Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: Dabi has never understood love, but when you’re around, something deep inside him stirs, and he can't figure it out-- Until you watch a movie together. Content/Tags: Fluff, League of Villains, Movie Marathon, Cuddling, Sleepy!Dabi, Shy!Dabi, Confused!Dabi WC: 725 words // 4.1k chars

- ✧ Worn Down (Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff)

Characters: Dabi x Fem!Reader Rating: T Summary: After a grueling mission, Dabi returns exhausted, and you offer him the comfort and care he rarely accepts. Content Warnings: Mild mentions of exhaustion, caretaking WC: 784 words // 4307 chars

SAMURAI JACK

- ✧ Chastity's Challenge (Genre: Humor, NSFW, Spice)

Characters: Samurai Jack x Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: M Summary: Jack, ever the disciplined warrior, finds himself tempted in a unique way during a visit to a sex shop. The owner (you) entices him to explore his self-control by trying on a chastity cage, leading to a series of humorous escapades as he navigates public nudity and the unexpected challenges that come with it. Content Warnings: Public nudity, chastity, humor, lighthearted embarrassment, sexual situations, playful power dynamics. MDNI: 18+ content, not suitable for minors. WC: 2455 words // 14k chars

STREET FIGHTER

- ✧ Shadows of Desire (Genre: Smut, Romance)

TOKYO REVENGERS

- ✧ The Weight Of Everything (Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance)

Characters: Mikey (Manjiro Sano) x Reader (Fem!Reader) Rating: T Summary: Mikey carries burdens that no one else can truly understand. On days when everything feels like it’s falling apart, your presence becomes his only source of calm. But when Mikey realizes just how much you mean to him, he's left wondering if there's a chance for something more. Content/Tags: Emotional vulnerability, Mentions of stress/burnout, Angst, Slow Burn, Vulnerability, Pining, Emotional Support, Confession WC: 1323 words // 7470 chars

Coming Soon!

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kallie-den · 3 months ago

Text

Cerulean

A recent escapee attends a support group for victims of evil mind control… run by the strange, sinister and inimitable Dr. Amaranth Cerulean

Special thanks to @dollzcomix for this commission, and for allowing me to write about Dr. Cerulean! They are a character of Demoiselle Porcelaine's creation, and I highly encourage you to check out her socials for all of her wonderful artwork of Dr. Cerulean - who truly is inimitable, and whose creator brings across their unique charm better than I ever could

If you like my writing, please consider supporting me on Patreon! For less than the price of a cup of coffee each month, you can get immediate, early access to everything I write - 4 pieces of hypno-smut a month, including the latest chapters of all the multi-chapter stories I write. Your support helps me keep writing and is greatly appreciated <3

---

The support group was nice… kind of. In theory. It had sounded nice, anyway, when Mariah had found out about it online. A pop-up ad, of all things, accompanied by a garish animation and a picture of the strange-looking psychiatrist who ran it, and written all in lower-case: ‘villain hypnosis victim support group’. Obviously, Mariah’s first instinct had been to dismiss it as some kind of weird internet con, but then she’d had second thoughts. Was there really a support group for people who’d been through what she had? Could other people actually understand the way she was feeling? If so, wasn’t that worth taking a chance on?

That was how she’d ended up in an untidy, rented office space on the side of the highway after dark.

It both was and wasn’t the kind of atmosphere Mariah had expected. A bunch of chairs set out in a circle. People sitting on them, sharing their stories. Strung up on one wall was a big banner that read ‘Mind Control and What Comes After: A Support Group to Find Yourself Again After Being Brainwashed’ in brightly colored but slightly faded letters. Mariah appreciated the stab at an upbeat atmosphere, but the attendeess simply weren’t up to the task.

They all just seemed so completely and utterly harrowed. Mariah sympathized, of course. She knew the ashamed, traumatized, hollowed-out look on each of their faces all too well. She saw in the mirror every morning. But she’d been hoping to see something a little more encouraging, too. Healing. Solidarity. Catharsis. On TV and in movies, support groups always involved people pouring out their hearts, breaking down, embracing one another. Making breakthroughs and overcoming their issues.

Mariah hadn’t expected the real thing to be quite so dramatic, but she’d been looking for more than a sequence of interminable recountings of horrors and violations. Each one seemed to conjure the awfulness of the past back into the present and leave the recounter shriveled and trembling. It was like the support group was making the attendees lesser, not greater. Mariah wasn’t sure she could see any signs of healing at all, or even of people finding solidarity in their brokenness. It was all just miserable.

The only person who seemed like they were having a good time was the psychiatrist running the thing.

Dr. Amaranth Cerulean, they/she.

They looked just as weird in person as they had on their advert. Dr. Cerulean was deathly pale, with big, tired, dark-circled eyes and unusual, light blue markings beneath them, as well as on her lips. It was a strange and striking look, especially along with their prominent nose and the short but poofy, voluminous hair piled up in rounded masses on their head. The shrink wore a gray cardigan over a ribbed, mustard yellow turtleneck sweater which was tucked into the belted waist of their brown slacks. It was an outfit from a different decade. Mariah just wasn’t quite sure which one.

In a way, it wasn’t surprising that a support group like this would be run by an eccentric. Mariah wasn’t one to judge. Dr. Cerulean’s demeanor, though, was a little unnerving. Throughout most of the session, Dr. Cerulean sat on her chair at the head of the group, in a completely slack, slouched pose that registered nothing but complete disinterest. They barely spoke, and only to indicate who should speak next. Certainly not to provide any advice or support. They had a pen and a pad of paper, from the way their hand moved while they were writing on it, Mariah felt certain they were mostly just idly doodling.

Every now and then, however, something would catch their attention. Occasionally—and only when somebody was sharing a particularly lurid, uncomfortable and traumatic part of their experience of being mind controlled—Dr. Cerulean would throw their entire body forward and sit perched so perilously close to their edge of their chair, Mariah feared they were about to topple from it. They would scratch at their notepad in a frenzy, and those big, tired eyes certainly became laser-focused and eager. Whenever that happened, a truly ghastly smile descended on their face. Not warm, not supportive, just pleased. Smug. Grateful, even, like they were thankful someone had stepped up to deliver them from boredom.

And from the slight twitch in their cheek, Mariah couldn’t help but suspect Dr. Cerulean was struggling to keep themself from laughing.

Dr. Cerulean’s presence made the entire support group feel uncomfortably voyeuristic, somehow. When it came to be Mariah’s turn, she kept it to a bare minimum. She introduced herself and made a few oblique references to what had happened to her, but completely glossed over the details. She figured that was pretty normal for a first-timer—and besides, it was difficult to speak with Dr. Cerulean looking at her like she was a fresh-cooked meal placed on their table.

Mariah decided right then and there—there wasn’t going to be a second time. She just didn’t feel comfortable here. It wasn’t the kind of support group she was looking for.

She stuck it out to the end, though—mostly because leaving halfway through seemed much too awkward. Once they wrapped up, before Mariah could slip out quietly, she found that Dr. Cerulean was suddenly between her and the door, and staring at her with an expectant look on their ghoulish face.

“H-Hi,” Mariah said, mostly because she felt like she had to. “Um… thanks for the session.”

“Oh, don’t mention it,” Dr. Cerulean sounded every bit as tired and seedy as they looked. “Thank you for coming. Really. We love a newcomer.”

“Yeah…” Mariah had no idea what to say to that. “Well, I was actually just-“

“Good news!” Dr. Cerulean interrupted suddenly, in a lazy, drawling voice. “You’re actually our one-hundredth member. That means you win a free one-on-one session with yours truly.”

Finger guns.

---

Hell no.

That had been Mariah’s initial response. The easiest ‘nope’ of her life. She’d politely declined, and privately resolved to never set foot in Dr. Cerulean’s support group again.

Then she’d gone home, gone to bed, and had the nightmares again.

It was nothing new. They came for Mariah most nights. But it meant another eight-hour torture session inside her own head, tossing and turning, fighting off both gut-wrenching guilt and poisonous allure. In the cold light of dawn, Mariah had felt worse than ever—and taking up Dr. Cerulean on her offer hadn’t seemed like such a bad idea after all. It had been easy to tell herself that it hadn’t really been that bad after all. Sure, Dr. Cerulean was a bit eccentric, but what had Mariah expected from somebody running a support group for mind control victims? It wasn’t like they’d done anything wrong, exactly.

More importantly, Mariah needed the help. Desperately. She couldn’t keep going on like this. That was why she’d gone to the support group in the first place. She needed to talk to somebody. Didn’t she owe it to herself to push herself? To take every chance? Mariah kept thinking about the kind of stuff she’d read online. Recovery wasn’t always easy. It wasn’t always comfortable. You had to push yourself.

Mariah had decided that she wanted to push herself.

Besides, it was just talking. In the end, that was what clinched it for her. All they were going to do was sit in a room and talk. If it was good, great. If it was bad, it would be a waste of time—but at least Mariah could tell herself she had given it a fair shot.

Basically: what was the worst that could happen?

That was how, the very next afternoon, Mariah found herself in Dr. Cerulean’s office, trying to distract herself from her anxiety by carefully inspecting the weird pineapple lamp on Dr. Cerulean’s desk. Dressed exactly as they had been the day before, the psychiatrist regarded Mariah with a bland smile on their blue lips as they invited her to sit down opposite them.

“So, um,” Mariah said, shifting uncomfortably. “How do we get started?”

“First things first,” Dr. Cerulean told her, “I have a few release forms for you to sign. Standard stuff, really. No need to read them too carefully.”

They handed Mariah a small stack of papers. Cautiously, Mariah started scanning the first. It seemed, as promised, entirely standard. Non-disclosure, liability, that kind of thing. After signing it, she moved on to the second, then the third, and quickly stopped bothering to read much of the legal jargon. On the very last form, though, something caught her eye.

“Wait a minute,” Mariah said. “This is a release authorizing you to… write online fiction about me?”

Quickly, Dr. Cerulean reached over the deck and snatched away the piece of paper. “Oops,” she replied languidly. “Bit of a mix-up. My mistake. Don’t worry about it. You can sign that one later.”

Later? Mariah frowned. Was that some kind of joke? It had to be. Dr. Cerulean certainly looked like they were finding humor in something—but it was in seriously poor taste.

“There we go.” Dr. Cerulean stretched one of their long arms across to retrieve the other release forms. They sat back in their chair and regarded Mariah carefully. “To begin with, why don’t you just tell me what brought you to the support group?”

Again, Mariah considered refusing. Again, she reminded herself: she needed to give this a shot.

“I… I just feel like I can’t move forward,” Mariah began slowly. She fixed her eyes on the floor, hoping that would be less awkward. “You know? I see all these people going about their daily lives. Pursuing careers. Pursuing other people. Pursuing happiness. And it just seems completely impossible to me. Like I can’t even fathom it—even though I used to be just like them. I can ever remember her—that old version of me. The one who wasn’t… who wasn’t broken. I want to be her again so bad. I just… can’t remember how.”

She looked up. Mariah’s voice was already a little choked up from the emotions she was describing. She was hoping, perhaps, for a kind word or a kind smile.

Instead, Dr. Cerulean wasn’t even looking at her. They had a pencil in their hand, and they were trying to spin it cleanly on the joint between their thumb and their hand. After a particularly vigorous spin, it slipped away from them and clattered against the top of the desk.

“Dr. Cerulean?” Mariah ventured plaintively.

Dr. Cerulean let out a breath that was very close to a sigh, and then their brow twitched in a way that made Mariah think, just for a moment, that they were going to roll their eyes. Then, though, a smile—only a little forced—came to Dr. Cerulean’s blue lips.

“Why don’t we start at the beginning?” Dr. Cerulean suggested. “What actually happened to you?”

“Oh. Right.” That made sense to Mariah, even if she wished Dr. Cerulean sounded a little more patient about it. She gathered her courage. Talking about what had befallen her didn’t come easy. “A couple of years ago, I-I was in a relationship. With a guy. Robert. We were engaged, I actually. I thought we were going to spend our entire lives together.”

“Uh-huh.” The look of boredom still hadn’t disappeared from Dr. Cerulean’s face.

“I had recently started a new job,” Mariah recounted, voice trembling. “As a PA—a personal assistant. I spoke to my boss about taking some time off for the wedding. Mrs. Lawrence. She, um, didn’t like that idea. She’d always been kind of… controlling, I guess. A… a bully.” She struggled to say it, even though it was true. “She told me she required my services. Didn’t want me to focus on the needs of anyone besides her.”

“Oh?” Those big, sunken eyes on Dr. Cerulean’s face were starting to perk up a little. “What then?”

“I threatened to quit.” Mariah squeezed her eyes tight shut. “So she mind-controlled me.”

Mariah heard a small, wet sound from a short distance away. When she opened her eyes, Dr. Cerulean’s lips were damp, and they had taken up their notepad.

“Tell me more about that,” the psychiatrist prompted.

“She started taking over every aspect of my life,” Mariah whispered. “The way I looked, talked, dressed, and how-“

“No, no,” Dr. Cerulean interrupted eagerly, waving a hand. “How did she mind control you?”

“Um.” Mariah was taken aback by the question. “What do you mean?”

“Well, is she a psychic?” Dr. Cerulean raised a hand and started counting methods on her fingers. “Psychoactive spores? Big ray gun? Good ‘ol hypnotist? Some kind of succubus?”

“She, um,” Mariah replied slowly. “She had one of those… toys on her desk. You know, with the row of balls hanging on strings?”

“A Newton’s cradle!” For the first time, Dr. Cerulean sounded faintly delighted. “Hold on.”

Dr. Cerulean reached under their desk and started rummaging around in a box that seemed to contain a truly preposterous quantity and variety of strange objects. Mariah watched, confused then horrified, as Dr. Cerulean plucked out one of them and set it upon their desk.

It was a Newton’s cradle.

“Um…” Mariah was transfixed by the object. “That’s… c-can you…”

Dr. Cerulean took one of the metal balls between their thumb and forefinger, lifted it, and let it swing.

The metallic tap as it hit against the next reverberated through Mariah’s entire being.

“D-Dr. Cerulean,” Mariah stammered. She was hot and cold. She could feel herself sweating. She could feel herself sinking. “C-c-could you p-put that away, p-please?”

“What, this?” Dr. Cerulean seemed faintly surprised as they leaned back easily in their chair. “But it’s just a little toy.”

“But…” Mariah was about to say something else, but the tapping of the Newton’s cradle broke about her words before they could form. She was left blubbering the word over stupidly. “B-but…”

“Mariah,” Dr. Cerulean tutted. “It’s important for you to understand that this is just a commonplace object. It’s acquired a certain psychological character in your mind as a trigger, but that’s something that you’re imbuing onto the world. Aren’t you afraid that you’re just reinforcing the scars of your own trauma? We need to push past our fears. If you continue to treat this toy with significance, it will become more and more significant to you.”

Dr. Cerulean sounded every bit the consummate professional as they rattled off the argument in their quick but monotonous voice. The words crested over Mariah like a wave. She had no rebuttal. Dr. Cerulean was the psychiatrist, after all.

And Mariah really, really couldn’t think straight with the Newton’s cradle tap, tap, tapping away on the desk.

“OK,” she said quietly, eventually.

“Very good.” Beyond the Newton’s cradle, Mariah could see a smile forming on Dr. Cerulean’s face. “Desensitization through exposure therapy is a key element of recovery. Go on.”

“Go… on?” Exposure therapy? Mariah still couldn’t look away from the Newton’s cradle. She couldn’t stop shaking. But if it was part of her recovery…

“Tell me what your boss did to you.”

“Mrs. Lawrence,” Mariah said slowly, “made me break up with my boyfriend.”

As they took notes, Dr. Cerulean made a little noise that might have been the beginnings of a laugh. “Of course.”

“B-but it’s more than that.” Mariah wasn’t sure that she wanted to talk about it, really. But she had no choice. It just came out of her—because she was looking at the Newton’s cradle, and Dr. Cerulean was telling her to speak. “She… s-she made…” Her voice broke. “She made me g-gay.”

Abruptly, Dr. Cerulean sat forward. For the first time, Mariah felt the full weight of the psychiatrist’s attention.

“Oh wow,” Dr. Cerulean remarked, with an ominous delight they slowly brought back under wraps. “That’s… really something. How did that go?”

“It’s awful,” Mariah moaned. “It’s not… I’m s-straight. I’ve always been straight. But when I looked at her—when I look at other women—I can’t help but feel it. And it feels so… so dirty.”

“Of course,” Dr. Cerulean agreed, scribbling at their notepad. “Something as fundamental as your sexuality has been made completely alienating to you.” They sat forward, leering. “It must be maddening. Feeling like your desire and your memory are at war. Not knowing which one you can trust. Not knowing which one is really you.”

Mariah nodded slowly. It was exactly like that. She was so glad Dr. Cerulean understood—but at the same time, hearing it said out loud with such bluntness felt awful.

“Tell me more,” the psychiatrist beckoned. “Tell me everything.”

Mariah’s vision was starting to narrow. She made one great effort to tear her attention away from the Newton’s cradle—and couldn’t. She could feel herself losing focus. Losing wakefulness. It was just the way it had been back then. Her shaking worsened, but it wasn’t enough to jostle her from trance’s reaching fingertips.

“I… I…” Dr. Cerulean’s words conjured the very deepest, most awful truths from Mariah’s drowning mind. “I tried… to go back to him, after they arrested her. I knew she’d get out on bail, but it gave me enough time to c-come back to my senses. I went back to him, but… b-but I just couldn’t stand it. I c-couldn’t look at him the same. And when he touched me, I…”

There was a loud noise as Dr. Cerulean slapped their thigh. Mariah jumped, but even that wasn’t enough to break her focus.

“Wait, you tried to go straight back to your old life?” they wheezed. “Wow, yeah, no, don’t do that! You didn’t give yourself any breathing room. No time to process what had happened to you. You tried to force yourself back into an old groove, and then when you couldn’t, I bet you felt more broken than ever! Rookie mistake, seriously.”

Dr. Cerulean’s barely disguised amusement bothered Mariah, but not as much as it should have. She simply couldn’t think straight. Each loud tap as one of the balls of the Newton’s cradle impacted against its neighbor was overwhelming. As much as she wanted to get up and leave, Mariah’s legs wouldn’t obey her. The most she could do was point at the Newton’s cradle with a weak, trembling hand.

“Please,” she blubbered. “P-p-please make it stop. P-please. I can’t… I c-can’t…”

“Oops.” Beyond the cradle, Mariah could see that Dr. Cerulean’s tired, sunken eyes had become bright and leering. “Now you’re on the verge of a full-blown relapse, aren’t you? It looks like you really are that fragile. Well, it makes sense. Recounting your traumatic experiences while being exposed to an explicit reminder of your victimhood will do that to you. Not very recovered after all, huh?”

Mariah shook her head numbly as tears welled up in her eyes. She could see it so clearly now. She wasn’t recovered at all. She hadn’t moved forward even one inch since getting free. She was small. She was weak.

“Tell me,” Dr. Cerulean asked, “what are you so afraid of? You’re shaking like a leaf."

“I-I don’t want to hurt people again,” Mariah blurted out.

Dr. Cerulean set down their notepad and planted their hands on the desk, palms vertical, the tips of their fingertips pressed together. Mariah could feel those long fingers reaching into her. Peeling her open. Prying her secrets apart.

“Who did you hurt, Mariah?” Dr. Cerulean asked.

Mariah had never told anybody about that—but she couldn’t lie. Not here. Not now. Not with the Newton’s cradle. Mrs. Lawrence had always drilled that into her. Tell the truth.

“I h-helped her take other girls,” Mariah whispered. “Anybody who caught her eye. I m-made appointments with them. P-put things in their drinks. Sometimes she even m-made me hold them, so they’d keep looking at the…” She choked back a sob. “Mrs. Lawrence made me t-talk to them. Condition them. D-d-discipline them.”

“Fascinating,” Dr. Cerulean said softly. “You must feel so guilty.”

“Yes!” The word erupted out of Mariah. It was all she could think about, every hour of every day.

“Of course,” Dr. Cerulean agreed softly. “You feel as though you were forced, outside of your own control, to commit acts that horrify you and compromise your sense of self. I think it’s crucial that we begin to reframe this.”

Mariah nodded slowly. She could do nothing else.

“Did you know that-“ Dr. Cerulean interrupted herself with a kind of gleeful chuckle. “Did you know that you cannot be hypnotized into doing anything that you don’t want to do?”

“Um.” Mariah blinked and swayed unsteadily. “W-what?”

No. That wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.

“Oh yes,” Dr. Cerulean insisted. “Hypnosis is just a little mind trick, really. It’s a way of lowering your inhibitions and suppressing your conscious mind, but do you really believe that it would make you a complete and total slave to whoever’s doing it to you? Lowering inhibitions simply implies the removal of a barrier to your true desires.”

“No.” Mariah shook her head violently. “N-no. No way. That’s… you’re…”

“Think about it,” Dr. Cerulean pressed, thin blue lips now stretched into a leering grin. “How did you feel when your boss used you sexually?”

Mariah flinched. “I-it felt good, but that’s only because she made-“

“Accepting our sexualities is often a battle,” Dr. Cerulean said agreeably. She made another note in her notepad. “How did you feel when you hurt those other women?”

“Please don’t make me say it,” Mariah begged, trembling. Dr. Cerulean just looked at her. “G-good. But that’s-“

“Of course.” The psychiatrist nodded. “Violence. Exercising power. It may be unpleasant, but it appeals to the baser parts of our natures. That’s a huge part of any form of so-called mind control. It provides a nice, convenient excuse for us to exercise desires we might normally feel the need to repress. And how about whenever you were ‘forced’ to obey your boss?”

Obey. That word lit a fuse in Mariah’s head.

“Obey,” she muttered. “Obey. O-obey. Obey. Obey. Obey.”

Normally, she was better than this. She could keep it under wraps. Not today. Not with the Newton’s cradle.

“A mantra!” Dr. Cerulean sounded pleased. “And so easy to trigger, too. This is good. Great, in fact. We’re making a lot of progress. I think we’re really starting to get to the root of your issues.”

“Obey.” Mariah kept repeating it under her breath. Each word gave rise to the next, unceasing, until her lungs were empty of air and she was shaking from the effort—but still, she kept going. “Obeyobeyobeyobeyobey.”

“Yes, yes, keep going,” Dr. Cerulean waved an idle hand in her direction. “Exposure therapy is a crucial tool. Remember what we were discussing earlier? You have to take back power from these things. You can’t keep making them special in your head. Repetition is a great way to do that.”

There was something soothing about hearing that. Mariah started easing into the mantra, letting her mind settle. She just needed to trust Dr. Cerulean. Her obedient liturgy was starting to make her feel calm again. Just like it always had with Mrs. Lawrence.

“Now, what was I saying?” Dr. Cerulean mused. “Oh, that’s right. Hypnosis. You really must consider what I’m saying. Perhaps the reason you’ve found all of this so difficult is that your boss was tapping into some of your deeply held repressed desires. Forcing you to confront them. Forcing you to accept the way they make you feel.”

“Obey,” Mariah panted. “Obey. Obey. Obey.”

“Obviously that’s just one way to conceptualize your experience,” Dr. Cerulean continued. “It might not sound right to you, but that’s where reframing comes in. At the end of the day, Mariah, you need to make a choice about what kind of narrative you want to fit onto your life. Ultimately, that’s all our egos amount to. They’re stories we tell about ourselves to find a semblance of security and comfort in our day-to-day lives. Which story flatters you the most? Which story brings you the most comfort? We need to help you answer that question so that you can find a degree of fulfillment.”

“Obey… obey… obey…” Mariah was slowing now, as the mantra drove all the way down to a deeper layer of hypnotism, leaving her in a place so dark and still even speaking was too much effort for her.

“Enough of that now,” Dr. Cerulean instructed dismissively. “You want control, don’t you Mariah? Think about it: which narrative makes you feel in control? Which one will help you reclaim your life?”

Mariah’s eyelids fluttered as she bent her mind to the question. When they were open, she could see Dr. Cerulean, lurking beyond the Newton’s cradle. When they were closed, she could see Mrs. Lawrence. Her boss. Her brainwasher. It was terrifying—but what if it didn’t have to be? Mariah could remember a time she hadn’t been scared. A time when she’d eagerly obeyed her boss with the eagerness of a docile lamb.

More than ever, she longed for it.

But… that was wrong, wasn’t it?

“I…” Mariah grasped. “No, I… I’m straight?”

Dr. Cerulean shook their head slowly. “You’re a little behind, Mariah. Remember. Narratives. Reframing. Are you really straight? Or is that simply what you’ve always believed? Many queer people suffer from a degree of internalized bigotry, and respond by desperately clinging to a veneer of heteronormativity. I promise you, Mariah. This room is a safe space. You can explore your feelings and desires here.”

Mariah’s mouth opened and closed uselessly. What Dr. Cerulean was telling her didn’t sound right—but then again, Mariah had no idea what would. And the pale psychiatrist sounded so expert. So sure.

“Let’s approach this on a more basic level,” Dr. Cerulean offered. “You need to relearn confidence in your basic drives. It’s important that you proceed without doubting yourself too much. I want you to accept yourself. To embrace your feelings. That’s the only way you can begin to heal. With that in mind, let me ask you: how do you feel about men?”

The Newton’s cradle was coming to rest, but that provided little comfort. As its motion slowed, Mariah felt her thoughts slowing along with it. She was swimming in trance. The word ‘obey’ was still echoing in her head. She couldn’t get beyond her first, strongest response.

“I c-can’t stand them,” she whimpered.

“Good,” Dr. Cerulean said poisonously. “I’m glad you can accept that about yourself. Now, how do you feel about women?”

“I… I…” That question triggered a sudden sunburst of emotion in Mariah’s head. Ideas, impulses, and beliefs all poured into her, each one pulled by a thread that was a memory or a sensation. They awakened something in her, something that burst past her lips in a wet, needy ejaculation. “I-I belong on my knees for women!”

“Another mantra?” Dr. Cerulean leered. “Interesting. It seems like we’re making a lot of progress here. As I told you, I want you to have confidence in your feelings and desires. So please, don’t stop yourself. Do whatever it is that feels most right to you. Whatever makes you feel comfortable in the moment.”

A great weight was pressing down on Mariah’s shoulders. Simply sitting in her chair felt so nauseatingly wrong, she couldn’t bear it. The only thing that seemed comfortable was slipping out of it, down onto her knees beneath Dr. Cerulean’s desk. The cold, uncomfortable floor welcomed her with the familiarity of a well-worn mattress.

“Fascinating,” Dr. Cerulean mused. “At the risk of moving a little too fast, perhaps we should try a little word association. That can be a very useful way to uncover the real roots of psychological issues. So, Mariah: you belong on your knees for women?”

Mariah choked back another sob as the words flowed out of her. “I b-belong on my knees for women. A good secretary’s place is under the desk. I l-love to be at women’s feet. I belong on my knees for… for women. A good secretary’s p-place is under the desk. I… I… hng… I love to be at women’s feet!”

Her stomach was a noxious cauldron. An iron pall of palpitating nausea sat inside her. The sense of anxious danger that had haunted her for months now was frothing like never before. But above it sat a thick, dense, smothering fog that whispered to her: this was all good. It was right. It was her place.

Mariah was trying to listen to the danger-sense. She was failing. It was too painful. She just wanted to stop thinking.

“It stands out to me that your set of associations ends with a reference to women’s bodies.” Mariah heard Dr. Cerulean’s voice from above, as the strange psychiatrist sat back calmly in their chair. That was another thing she was used to. “That may be the key to your desires, Mariah. Listen to them. Show me what comes next.”

As they spoke, Dr. Cerulean slowly slipped out of her shoes, using each one to pry the other off. Underneath, they were wearing a strange pair of pineapple socks; yellow and patterned on the lower part, and leaf-green around their ankles. Their socks, though, weren’t what had caught Mariah’s attention. She was distracted by the simple fact that she was in her place, under a desk, and an authoritative woman was looming over her with their feet dangling in her face.

Mariah followed her desires. She did what came naturally to her. With tears still in her eyes, lips still mouthing the words Mrs. Lawrence had imprinted on her mind, she reached out and began massaging Dr. Cerulean’s feet.

Dr. Cerulean let out a glib chuckle, then sighed contentedly. “Look at you now. You’re under the desk, repeating your mantras, looking for another woman’s feet to worship. A complete and total relapse! How unfortunate.”

“I… I… I-I…” Another sob threatened to rip loose from Mariah’s throat. She wanted to speak, to argue, to apologize, to beg, but she already knew that if she tried, the only thing that would come out was her boss’s mantra.

A relapse. It was the rock-bottom Mariah had been afraid of for so long. All the urges she had been fighting to hold in check were oozing out. She was on her knees again. She was languishing in the pit of her own awful, dirty, lustful feelings about women. It felt awful. It felt like home.

“I know, I know,” Dr. Cerulean agreed. “It’s tough. But what do I keep telling you about, Mariah? Reframing! It’s an essential tool. Consider: what if this isn’t relapsing? What if this is simply who you are?”

Whatever part of Mariah might have wanted to push back against that had been broken into silence. As Mariah trembled and sobbed and eagerly, expertly pushed her thumbs against the soles of Dr. Cerulean’s feet, it seemed impossible to deny. Wasn’t this who she was? Wasn’t what she was doing right now the proof?

“It’s up to you, of course,” Dr. Cerulean added. “This is all about your wellbeing, Mariah. You’re perfectly free to define the goals of your own therapy. The perspectives I’m offering you are nothing more than food for thought. So, what do you think?”

As she knelt there, Mariah thought about what it would mean if she insisted upon her need for recovery and healing. It would mean more months of therapy and counseling, of twitchiness and jitteriness, of viewing herself, first and foremost, as a victim. It would mean looking over her shoulder for Mrs. Lawrence everywhere she went, and constantly guilt and shame whenever she found herself glancing at another woman. It would mean perhaps years of slowly building herself back up so she could learn to trust again, so she could reclaim her sexuality on her own terms—hell, so she could even work in an office again.

It was too much.

Just like that, Mariah gave up.

“Y-you’re right, Dr. Cerulean.” Mariah’s voice was still trembling desperately, but as she spoke, a haunted grin came to her face. “T-thinking about how I really feel… I guess it’s o-obvious. I’m j-just a lesbian.”

“Interesting,” Dr. Cerulean remarked. They sounded like they were beginning to crack up laughing. “And all those things you did for your boss?”

Mariah let out a twitchy laugh too. “I j-just did those things for Mistress because I wanted to.”

“Very interesting. Even hurting those other women?”

The noise that erupted from Mariah’s throat was a sob and a laugh in equal measure. “Y… y-yes. That’s right. I w-w-wanted to.”

“My goodness,” Dr. Cerulean sounded like she was fighting to suppress a moan as Mariah gave in. “That’s quite the breakthrough.”

Mariah wanted to. She wanted to serve her boss because she was a submissive lesbian. She wanted to hurt other women for her mistress because it turned her on. It was that simple. She was that simple.

“Why don’t you sit back up here?” Dr. Cerulean suggested. “One question: what do you think about the way your boss hypnotized you?”

As Mariah came up from under the desk, she glanced at the Newton’s cradle sitting on the psychiatrist’s desk. It had long since come to rest, but the sight of it still made her stomach churn.

“M-Mistress knows what’s best for me,” Mariah bleated, forcing her nausea down. Forcing herself to fall back on what her boss had taught her. “Mistress thinks for me b-better than I can.”

Dr. Cerulean sat forward as they let out a great, wheezing chuckle. “Let me get this straight,” they said. “Do you imagine that your boss knew that you were a lesbian all along, and was simply pushing you to accept it?”

A tear trickled down Mariah’s cheek. “Y-y-yeah.” She made herself believe it.

“Wow,” Dr. Cerulean remarked, and shrugged. “Well, yeah, that certainly sounds plausible to me. No issues there. We discussed your internalized homophobia earlier. I suppose being forced to confront that must have caused a kind of backlash. Very unfortunate.”

“R-right.” Mariah sat bolt upright in the chair as she felt compulsion snap tight around her like a collar on her neck. “Oh my god. I n-need to go back to Mistress. I need to find her again.”

“Oh yes?” Dr. Cerulean leaned forward intently. “And why’s that?”

Mariah’s happy, grateful smile was so wide. She wasn’t sure why she couldn’t seem to stop crying. “I need to apologize. I need to b-b-beg for her forgiveness.”

Tears were welling up in Dr. Cerulean’s eyes too—but only because they were fighting so hard to keep a tight rein on their mirth. “That sounds great!” the psychiatrist agreed. “Rebuilding the bridges we burn during moments of crisis can be so important. And far be it from me to keep you any longer—although I’d love to schedule a follow-up in a few weeks’ time. Just so I can, ah, see how you’re getting on.”

Mariah nodded eagerly. She was so thankful to Dr. Cerulean for helping her get her head on straight. Really, it was the least she could do.

As Dr. Cerulean stood up to see Mariah out, they carelessly set down on their desk the small notepad they had been taking notes on. With it face up, Mariah could see a few of the choice comments Dr. Cerulean had made:

‘BOOOORING I’m so sad blah blah blah’ ‘messing with her orientation? nice lol’ ‘dig for mantras?’ ‘oh she’s COOKED cooked.’ ‘amazed someone else hasn’t scooped her up already’ ‘regular follow-ups? the massage is pretty good’

Mariah decided to ignore them. She decided they had to be about somebody else. Fortunately, Dr. Cerulean distracted her from it by sliding another piece of paper across the desk.

“Now, about that release?” the psychiatrist asked politely. “I think this could be really great material for a fic. I can see getting a lot of Ao3 kudos for this one.”

With a tight, harrowed, unsteady, haunted grin on her tear-stained face, Mariah obediently signed her name and then hurried back to return to her life as a brainwashed, submissive, lesbian secretary. As she left, Dr. Cerulean leaned back in their chair and slipped their hand down the front of their pants.

“All in a day’s work,” Dr. Cerulean murmured to themself. “Now, let me see if I can finish before my five o’clock.”

—

I would like to express my gratitude for the generosity of all those who support me on Patreon, and to give a special thanks to the following patrons in particular for their exceptional support:

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