#even if you only have two stories make a nice graphic and go for it

[multifandomgirl08]

Change [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: It's the end of the F1 season. Some things are changing for the Verstappen's.

Warning(s): Make out session (Non graphic), Time jump from Part 1, Google Translated Dutch, mention(s) of Christian Horner in passing, Mixed Media (Story + Social Media)

A/N: It's not August, but since Part 1 got 1k notes I figured this deserved to be posted early. It wasn't supposed to be this long, I got a little carried away in the end... Should have the next (mini) part up after Belgium. Please don't be afraid to fill my ask box with ideas for this series.

Words: 3.1k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

In the year that you met Nico, a lot of things changed. Most of them were changes for you. A change of job, a change of address, and a lifestyle change.

After two years of dating Max and spending time with Nico, you realized that you didn't want to be half in half out. It took a bit of time but you had found a job that let you work from home, so if Max needed anything you were only a phone call away. Moving to Monaco was a little tougher given that you were on a work visa, but it meant that you got to spend more time with Max when he wasn't working.

It was easier to pack a small duffle bag and go to his apartment than it was to get on a flight to see him for a few hours. And spending time with Nico was a joy.

He was quiet, but he had a way of expressing his emotions with his eyes. If you put food he didn’t like in front of him, he would pout and then he would scrunch his brows together in disgust.

It was nice though, Max would be stuck on his driving sim for a while, so you would take Nico and play with his trains or read him a book until he had to take a nap. Once Max was off the sim, it gave you a chance to answer emails and get through the tasks that you had to do that day. Then, in the evening, you would make dinner together and then eat before putting Nico to bed.

"Mimi," Nico had taken to calling you. You stood in the doorway of his room waiting for him to get into bed so that Max could tuck him in while you packed up your things to take home.

"Yeah, Neeks?" You asked.

"Can you and Papa tuck me in?" He asked. You were surprised that Nico wanted you and Max to tuck him in. He and Max had a routine and you didn't try to make yourself a part of it. You would watch as the father-son pair went about their nighttime routine.

Max would go and do the dishes while Nico went to brush his teeth and change for bed. It gave you and Max a few minutes to yourselves. A few quick stolen kisses before little feet started to run on the hardwood floor. Max would give you another quick kiss before picking up Nico in his arms and taking him into his room before tucking him in for the night.

You looked on into Nico's room to see him in the middle of his bed under the sheets waiting to be tucked in.

"Let me ask him. Okay?" You told Nico seeing the little boy nod his head.

You did need to tell Max, you didn’t want to insert yourself into a routine that wasn’t yours. You had only spent the night at Max’s apartment a few times, and it was mostly when you were too tired to go home. Those few times had been happening more often given that Max was back to traveling for work and the sitter that Max had hired was also moving back home.

You had made your way back into the kitchen to see Max closing the dishwasher before wiping his hands.

“Is he ready for bed?” He asked you.

“Yeah, he asked if… if we could both tuck him in.” You slowly said. You could see his smile growing wide. He already knew that Nico had asked that you both tuck him in.

“Why wouldn’t he, you tuck me in pretty well when you stay over.” You knew exactly what Max meant. So you just shook your head at him, you couldn’t help but laugh that he would be thinking about that now.

“Max!” You couldn’t believe him. You gave him a light shove before he started laughing. “Please come tuck in your son.” You jokingly pleaded before kissing Max on the cheek and feeling his hands move down to your waist. You moved to hold Max’s hand as you walked to Nico’s room.

“Ready for bed, kleine man,” Max said as you both walked through the doorway.

Nico gave a nod, “Ready, Papa.”

You helped Max turn down Nico’s sheets before tucking the covers around the little boy’s feet.

“Vergeet het haar niet te vragen.” Nico muttered before snuggling into his bedsheets.

Max spoke Dutch to Nico every once in a while. It was mostly simple phrases but Nico seemed to grasp the language rather well.

“Ik niet.” You looked at Max and saw him lean over and kiss Nico’s forehead.

Both you and Max walked out of Nico’s room, “Night, Nico.” You said.

“Sleep well,” Max said before turning the lights off in Nico’s room and closing his bedroom door.

You knew that Nico would be out like a light once Max closed the door. You walked into Max’s living room and put your computer back into your bag. Once Nico was asleep you would stay until right before Max needed to head to bed. He did have a race the next day, so he wouldn’t stay up too late.

“Movie?” You asked him.

Max gave a slight nod, you wouldn’t finish the movie. You would get just over halfway through before Max would need to get some sleep.

You picked up the remote to hand to him before getting comfortable on his couch settling yourself in his lap. It was easy to snuggle up to Max. You both started looking through all of the options he had on Netflix, he stopped clicking at the remote, “I was wondering if you would want to come to the race next week.”

You were surprised. You had never gone to one of Max’s races, mostly because he had never offered so you never asked. You were okay with just being with him without all of the extra things that came with dating him.

“Are you asking for-” You knew that Nico was going to the race. He had been excited to see Max race in person. Max tried to keep Nico away from the track as much as he could, but that boy loved it just as much as Max did.

“No.” So he wasn’t asking just so someone would be there to watch over Nico. “We’ve been together for two years, and I’ve never asked you to come because I don’t want to pressure you into dealing with the fans and the media.”

In that regard, you were glad that Max understood that all of those things weren’t for you.

“But it’s the last race of the season and I would like both my son and my girlfriend there.” Max did have a point. It was the second season that you were together, and it would be nice to actually go to one of his races and be there to support him instead of sitting at home with Nico watching the race.

Flying to Abu Dhabi for Max’s race would be interesting, you knew that Nico had a passport but you have never spent more than a day or two with the little boy without Max present.

“Yeah, I would love that.” You would probably have to work from your laptop that Friday while Max was at practice but Nico would love watching qualifying and then the race the next day if he didn’t fall asleep halfway through.

Max looked at you and smiled wide, it was so genuine that you couldn’t help but reach over and kiss him. As your lips met, Max was quick to pull you under him on the couch, letting the tips of his fingers trace the bare skin that was just under the hem of your shirt. Your head met one of the pillows on the couch as he slowly laid you down moving between your legs. Your hands moved over the plains of his back which was covered with a thin black shirt that hugged his arms. It was unfair how good he looked.

It wasn’t long before Max turned off the TV and pulled you with him into his room to get some sleep. You wouldn’t be going back to your apartment tonight.

One Week Later - Sunday

Before going to where you would be sitting during the race, You and Nico were on your way to Red Bull hospitality. Max had made sure to drop off your passes on Friday when you had gotten in after he was done at the track on your first day in Abu Dhabi.

“Well if it isn’t the next generation of Red Bull racing,” You heard from the one and only Daniel Ricciardo as you and Nico walked around the paddock before the race.

“Dan!” Nico said letting go of your hand and then running to Daniel, throwing his arms around the older man’s shoulders as Daniel kneeled on the ground.

You had come to learn from Max that Daniel was with him the day that he found out about Nico. He had gone with him to see Max’s agent and offered to be there the first time that Max had met his son. Max was lucky to have a friend like him.

“Look at you, all ready to go.” He pulled Nico back a little to see his replica racing suit. “If your dad wasn’t in the car, I would think that you were after his job.” Nico had insisted on wearing the replica Red Bull racing suit that Christian had gotten him for his birthday a few weeks ago. Christian treated Nico like the grandson he didn’t have, which included getting him gifts that Max didn’t know about. He wanted to hide it from Max until this weekend, not wanting to jinx a third-world championship win for him.

Given that Max made Pole during qualifying you had unpacked the racing suit from your bag that was hidden in one of your sweaters in case Max ended up looking in your bag.

“Maybe I am.” Nico muttered at Daniel. You couldn’t help but slightly raise your brow at Nico before you saw Daniel shake his head. “Nico.” You warned.

“It’s okay Y/N. If he were any more like Max, he would be Max.” Daniel was used to it by now. He knew that Nico was just like his dad in so many ways. It wasn’t just that they looked alike.

“Very true.” You agreed with him.

“So you here for the whole race?” Daniel asked. Nico walked back to you before he started messing with your paddock passes.

“Yeah, hopefully, someone doesn’t fall asleep until it’s over.” You brushed your fingers through Nico’s hair.

You hoped that Nico would be able to stay awake long enough to see Max by the time the race was over. You knew when you got back to the hotel Nico would be dead tired and go straight to bed.

“Well, I’m sure him sleeping through one race won’t hurt too bad. Max’s been winning championships almost as long as this one’s alive.” That was true, Max had won his first championship just after Nico had turned 1. “Maybe, you’re his good luck charm. Ay, Nico.”

Nico gave a small shrug of his shoulders before pulling at your shirt.

“I should take him back to hospitality before the race starts.” Nico hadn’t eaten lunch earlier claiming that he wasn’t hungry. “Don’t want to get hounded by cameras.” You knew that it was going to be harder after the race.

“You and Max still haven’t…” Daniel didn’t have to finish his sentence for you to know what he was talking about. Both you and Max had agreed that you didn’t want the media to know about Nico yet. It was still too soon. Maybe once the season was over.

“Not yet.” Daniel just nodded in understanding.

“Alright, guess I’ll let you go hide Mini Max from the vultures,” Daniel said with a smile.

“Okay,” You lightly chuckled. “Have a good race.”

Nico quickly walked over to Daniel to give him a hug and a big wave before reaching to take your hand again.

It was a short walk over to where you and Nico would be sitting during the race.

It wasn’t long before the race started when Nico pointed down at Max’s car and muttered, “Papa.” while holding food in his little hands. Nico kept watch of the cars zooming around the track and made sure to pay attention when there was an announcement about something that happened.

Halfway through the race, Nico moved to rest his head against your arm, his eyes would close every once in a while. You leaned down to kiss the top of his head feeling him snuggle closer to your side.

The race seemed to pass by rather fast. Max made the next 20 or so laps around the track in record time. Nico had woken up with 10 laps left for Max to complete. Hamilton had tried to overtake at the start of the last lap but never managed to pass Max. It wasn’t long after that you saw everyone from the Red Bull garage walking out to the track watching as Max’s car crossed the finish line as the checkered flag was waved.

Just after you heard it over the speakers. “Max Verstappen wins the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix and is a 3-time Champion of the World!”

You were quick to collect Nico into your arms giving him a kiss on the cheek, “Papa won.” The little boy threw his arms around your neck at the words. Max’s car was making donuts not far from where you and Nico were. Fireworks were going off as you moved out of your seat.

You were quick to grab your bag and take Nico down with you to the garage where you saw people hugging. It didn’t take long for you to see Max, he was still in his helmet but you let go of Nico’s hand so he could run up to his dad and gave him a hug. You watched on as the father and son pair embraced in their matching fireproofs.

You had caught Max’s eyes which were normally hidden by his visor and could tell that he was smiling. Max was holding Nico with one arm and stretched his other hand out for you. You walked closer to him and clasped your hand in his before he gave you Nico moving to take off his helmet. He pulled it off and you could see the lines from the inside padding of his helmet. You reached up passionately kissing him on the lips.

“Congratulations!” You had to yell over all of the other noise that surrounded the three of you. You could see a few tears falling from Max’s eyes as he took in you holding Nico.

“Mijn familie.” You had a pretty clear idea of what he just said, letting a stray tear fall from your eyes. Nico tried to curl up into Max’s chest but somehow ended up squashed between the two of you in a cocoon-like hug.

“Go, enjoy your podium. We’ll wait for you after.” You said into his ear.

“You sure?”

You nodded at his question. Nico had taken a nap during the race, you could wait to take him back to the hotel later. He should get to see his father achieve his dream in person. Nico gave Max another hug, and the older Verstappen kissed you quickly on the forehead before being dragged away by the men in navy blue. Charles found you not long after a small celebration with the guys in Ferrari having finished P2.

You watched from the crowd as Max got sprayed with champagne and then proceeded to cover Christian in it as well. You watched on as Max celebrated. You had to wonder. How often did someone get to achieve their dream three times over?

Max was on the podium with Christian for a little longer before being pulled off to go and answer some questions.

Christian had come over to you and taken Nico to get a few pictures with Max’s trophy. Geri assured you that she would bring Nico back. You trusted her, how could you not trust a Spice Girl?

You didn’t have to wait a long time after that to see Max again. The top of his fireproofs had come off and now he was just in the shirt that was underneath it. He was standing there covered in sweat and champagne with a dopey grin on his face.

You walked over to him, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down to meet your lips. You ran your fingers through his short hair feeling how sticky the sweet liquid was, and wanting him as close as possible.

“Move in with me.” he said as he pulled back from the kiss.

“What?” You questioned letting your eyes drop to his lips. “Move in with me, Y/N. Help me take Nico to school, and be there every day to see him grow up.” You knew that it wasn’t a marriage proposal. It was Max asking you to move in with him and help raise Nico. He wanted Nico to see you as more than just his papa’s girlfriend.

You met his eyes, seeing as he searched yours before nodding. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes again, and your lips met his again, savoring the taste of champagne from his lips. You knew that you would be covered in it by the time you left the track.

“I love you.” You felt him mumble against your lips.

“I love you too.” You let your fingers sink into the fabric of Max’s fireproofs.

“Where’s Nico?” Max’s eyes looked around to see if he would find him anywhere.

“With Christian. Geri said that she would bring him back.” As the words left your mouth you saw the redhead out of the corner of your eyes holding your little boy.

Nico saw the two of you and started to squirm in Geri’s arms before running to both you and Max.

You couldn’t help but slightly stumble back into Max as Nico crashed into both of you, Max’s arms now around your waist holding you so you didn’t fall. Nico gripped you around your knees, his light brown hair brushed against the fabric of your jeans.

You leaned back a little to kiss Max, gripping the side of his neck. You couldn’t wait to have this every day.

wagsoff1

3,543 likes

wagsoff1 Max Verstappen and his girlfriend Y/N L/N seen leaving a private party in Belgium for New Year's

fan40 Is she wearing Alexis Mabille?

fan34 Who is that man? And what had Y/N done to Max Verstappen?

fan80 It's official! She's met Sophie.

fan58 Is Mad Max gone?

fan29 Doesn't seem like it. He's still competitive when he's driving. Just because he cares about his girlfriend doesn't mean it's going to affect the way he performs in the car.

Jan 2, 2024

Translations:

kleine man - little man

Vergeet het haar niet te vragen. - Don't forget to ask her.

Ik niet. - I won't.

Mijn familie - My family.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #mv33 imagine #mv1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #Mini Verstappen Series #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #Max Verstappen

[eyrieofsynapses]

why Aurora's art is genius

It's break for me, and I've been meaning to sit down and read the Aurora webcomic (https://comicaurora.com/, @comicaurora on Tumblr) for quite a bit. So I did that over the last few days.

And… y'know. I can't actually say "I should've read this earlier," because otherwise I would've been up at 2:30-3am when I had responsibilities in the morning and I couldn't have properly enjoyed it, but. Holy shit guys THIS COMIC.

I intended to just do a generalized "hello this is all the things I love about this story," and I wrote a paragraph or two about art style. …and then another. And another. And I realized I needed to actually reference things so I would stop being too vague. I was reading the comic on my tablet or phone, because I wanted to stay curled up in my chair, but I type at a big monitor and so I saw more details… aaaaaand it turned into its own giant-ass post.

SO. Enjoy a few thousand words of me nerding out about this insanely cool art style and how fucking gorgeous this comic is? (There are screenshots, I promise it isn't just a wall of text.) In my defense, I just spent two semesters in graphic design classes focusing on the Adobe Suite, so… I get to be a nerd about pretty things…???

All positive feedback btw! No downers here. <3

---

I cannot emphasize enough how much I love the beautiful, simple stylistic method of drawing characters and figures. It is absolutely stunning and effortless and utterly graceful—it is so hard to capture the sheer beauty and fluidity of the human form in such a fashion. Even a simple outline of a character feels dynamic! It's gorgeous!

Though I do have a love-hate relationship with this, because my artistic side looks at that lovely simplicity, goes "I CAN DO THAT!" and then I sit down and go to the paper and realize that no, in fact, I cannot do that yet, because that simplicity is born of a hell of a lot of practice and understanding of bodies and actually is really hard to do. It's a very developed style that only looks simple because the artist knows what they're doing. The human body is hard to pull off, and this comic does so beautifully and makes it look effortless.

Also: line weight line weight line weight. It's especially important in simplified shapes and figures like this, and hoo boy is it used excellently. It's especially apparent the newer the pages get—I love watching that improvement over time—but with simpler figures and lines, you get nice light lines to emphasize both smaller details, like in the draping of clothing and the curls of hair—which, hello, yes—and thicker lines to emphasize bigger and more important details and silhouettes. It's the sort of thing that's essential to most illustrations, but I wanted to make a note of it because it's so vital to this art style.

THE USE OF LAYER BLENDING MODES OH MY GODS. (...uhhh, apologies to the people who don't know what that means, it's a digital art program thing? This article explains it for beginners.)

Bear with me, I just finished my second Photoshop course, I spent months and months working on projects with this shit so I see the genius use of Screen and/or its siblings (of which there are many—if I say "Screen" here, assume I mean the entire umbrella of Screen blending modes and possibly Overlay) and go nuts, but seriously it's so clever and also fucking gorgeous:

Firstly: the use of screened-on sound effect words over an action? A "CRACK" written over a branch and then put on Screen in glowy green so that it's subtle enough that it doesn't disrupt the visual flow, but still sticks out enough to make itself heard? Little "scritches" that are transparent where they're laid on without outlines to emphasize the sound without disrupting the underlying image? FUCK YES. I haven't seen this done literally anywhere else—granted, I haven't read a massive amount of comics, but I've read enough—and it is so clever and I adore it. Examples:

Secondly: The beautiful lighting effects. The curling leaves, all the magic, the various glowing eyes, the fog, the way it's all so vividly colored but doesn't burn your eyeballs out—a balance that's way harder to achieve than you'd think—and the soft glows around them, eeeee it's so pretty so pretty SO PRETTY. Not sure if some of these are Outer/Inner Glow/Shadow layer effects or if it's entirely hand-drawn, but major kudos either way; I can see the beautiful use of blending modes and I SALUTE YOUR GENIUS.

I keep looking at some of this stuff and go "is that a layer effect or is it done by hand?" Because you can make some similar things with the Satin layer effect in Photoshop (I don't know if other programs have this? I'm gonna have to find out since I won't have access to PS for much longer ;-;) that resembles some of the swirly inner bits on some of the lit effects, but I'm not sure if it is that or not. Or you could mask over textures? There's... many ways to do it.

If done by hand: oh my gods the patience, how. If done with layer effects: really clever work that knows how to stop said effects from looking wonky, because ugh those things get temperamental. If done with a layer of texture that's been masked over: very, very good masking work. No matter the method, pretty shimmers and swirly bits inside the bigger pretty swirls!

Next: The way color contrast is used! I will never be over the glowy green-on-black Primordial Life vibes when Alinua gets dropped into that… unconscious space?? with Life, for example, and the sharp contrast of vines and crack and branches and leaves against pitch black is just visually stunning. The way the roots sink into the ground and the three-dimensional sensation of it is particularly badass here:

Friggin. How does this imply depth like that. HOW. IT'S SO FREAKING COOL.

A huge point here is also color language and use! Everybody has their own particular shade, generally matching their eyes, magic, and personality, and I adore how this is used to make it clear who's talking or who's doing an action. That was especially apparent to me with Dainix and Falst in the caves—their colors are both fairly warm, but quite distinct, and I love how this clarifies who's doing what in panels with a lot of action from both of them. There is a particular bit that stuck out to me, so I dug up the panels (see this page and the following one https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-30/):

(Gods it looks even prettier now that I put it against a plain background. Also, appreciation to Falst for managing a bridal-carry midair, damn.)

The way that their colors MERGE here! And the immense attention to detail in doing so—Dainix is higher up than Falst is in the first panel, so Dainix's orange fades into Falst's orange at the base. The next panel has gold up top and orange on bottom; we can't really tell in that panel where each of them are, but that's carried over to the next panel—

—where we now see that Falst's position is raised above Dainix's due to the way he's carrying him. (Points for continuity!) And, of course, we see the little "huffs" flowing from orange to yellow over their heads (where Dainix's head is higher than Falst's) to merge the sound of their breathing, which is absurdly clever because it emphasizes to the viewer how we hear two sets of huffing overlaying each other, not one. Absolutely brilliant.

(A few other notes of appreciation to that panel: beautiful glows around them, the sparks, the jagged silhouette of the spider legs, the lovely colors that have no right to make the area around a spider corpse that pretty, the excellent texturing on the cave walls plus perspective, the way Falst's movements imply Dainix's hefty weight, the natural posing of the characters, their on-point expressions that convey exactly how fuckin terrifying everything is right now, the slight glows to their eyes, and also they're just handsome boys <3)

Next up: Rain!!!! So well done! It's subtle enough that it never ever disrupts the impact of the focal point, but evident enough you can tell! And more importantly: THE MIST OFF THE CHARACTERS. Rain does this irl, it has that little vapor that comes off you and makes that little misty effect that plays with lighting, it's so cool-looking and here it's used to such pretty effect!

One of the panel captions says something about it blurring out all the injuries on the characters but like THAT AIN'T TOO BIG OF A PROBLEM when it gets across the environmental vibes, and also that'd be how it would look in real life too so like… outside viewer's angle is the same as the characters', mostly? my point is: that's the environment!!! that's the vibes, that's the feel! It gets it across and it does so in the most pretty way possible!

And another thing re: rain, the use of it to establish perspective, particularly in panels like this—

—where we can tell we're looking down at Tynan due to the perspective on the rain and where it's pointing. Excellent. (Also, kudos for looking down and emphasizing how Tynan's losing his advantage—lovely use of visual storytelling.)

Additionally, the misting here:

We see it most heavily in the leftmost panel, where it's quite foggy as you would expect in a rainstorm, especially in an environment with a lot of heat, but it's also lightly powdered on in the following two panels and tends to follow light sources, which makes complete sense given how light bounces off particles in the air.

A major point of strength in these too is a thorough understanding of lighting, like rim lighting, the various hues and shades, and an intricate understanding of how light bounces off surfaces even when they're in shadow (we'll see a faint glow in spots where characters are half in shadow, but that's how it would work in real life, because of how light bounces around).

Bringing some of these points together: the fluidity of the lines in magic, and the way simple glowing lines are used to emphasize motion and the magic itself, is deeply clever. I'm basically pulling at random from panels and there's definitely even better examples, but here's one (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-16-33/):

First panel, listed in numbers because these build on each other:

The tension of the lines in Tess's magic here. This works on a couple levels: first, the way she's holding her fists, as if she's pulling a rope taut.

The way there's one primary line, emphasizing the rope feeling, accompanied by smaller ones.

The additional lines starbursting around her hands, to indicate the energy crackling in her hands and how she's doing a good bit more than just holding it. (That combined with the fists suggests some tension to the magic, too.) Also the variations in brightness, a feature you'll find in actual lightning. :D Additional kudos for how the lightning sparks and breaks off the metal of the sword.

A handful of miscellaneous notes on the second panel:

The reflection of the flames in Erin's typically dark blue eyes (which bears a remarkable resemblance to Dainix, incidentally—almost a thematic sort of parallel given Erin's using the same magic Dainix specializes in?)

The flowing of fabric in the wind and associated variation in the lineart

The way Erin's tattoos interact with the fire he's pulling to his hand

The way the rain overlays some of the fainter areas of fire (attention! to! detail! hell yeah!)

I could go on. I won't because this is a lot of writing already.

Third panel gets paragraphs, not bullets:

Erin's giant-ass "FWOOM" of fire there, and the way the outline of the word is puffy-edged and gradated to feel almost three-dimensional, plus once again using Screen or a variation on it so that the stars show up in the background. All this against that stunning plume of fire, which ripples and sparks so gorgeously, and the ending "om" of the onomatopoeia is emphasized incredibly brightly against that, adding to the punch of it and making the plume feel even brighter.

Also, once again, rain helping establish perspective, especially in how it's very angular in the left side of the panel and then slowly becomes more like a point to the right to indicate it's falling directly down on the viewer. Add in the bright, beautiful glow effects, fainter but no less important black lines beneath them to emphasize the sky and smoke and the like, and the stunningly beautiful lighting and gradated glows surrounding Erin plus the lightning jagging up at him from below, and you get one hell of an impactful panel right there. (And there is definitely more in there I could break down, this is just a lot already.)

And in general: The colors in this? Incredible. The blues and purples and oranges and golds compliment so well, and it's all so rich.

Like, seriously, just throughout the whole comic, the use of gradients, blending modes, color balance and hues, all the things, all the things, it makes for the most beautiful effects and glows and such a rich environment. There's a very distinct style to this comic in its simplified backgrounds (which I recognize are done partly because it's way easier and also backgrounds are so time-consuming dear gods but lemme say this) and vivid, smoothly drawn characters; the simplicity lets them come to the front and gives room for those beautiful, richly saturated focal points, letting the stylized designs of the magic and characters shine. The use of distinct silhouettes is insanely good. Honestly, complex backgrounds might run the risk of making everything too visually busy in this case. It's just, augh, so GORGEOUS.

Another bit, take a look at this page (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-15-28/):

It's not quite as evident here as it is in the next page, but this one does some other fun things so I'm grabbing it. Points:

Once again, using different colors to represent different character actions. The "WHAM" of Kendal hitting the ground is caused by Dainix's force, so it's orange (and kudos for doubling the word over to add a shake effect). But we see blue layered underneath, which could be an environmental choice, but might also be because it's Kendal, whose color is blue.

And speaking off, take a look at the right-most panel on top, where Kendal grabs the spear: his motion is, again, illustrated in bright blue, versus the atmospheric screened-on orange lines that point toward him around the whole panel (I'm sure these have a name, I think they might be more of a manga thing though and the only experience I have in manga is reading a bit of Fullmetal Alchemist). Those lines emphasize the weight of the spear being shoved at him, and their color tells us Dainix is responsible for it.

One of my all-time favorite effects in this comic is the way cracks manifest across Dainix's body to represent when he starts to lose control; it is utterly gorgeous and wonderfully thematic. These are more evident in the page before and after this one, but you get a decent idea here. I love the way they glow softly, the way the fire juuuust flickers through at the start and then becomes more evident over time, and the cracks feel so realistic, like his skin is made of pottery. Additional points for how fire begins to creep into his hair.

A small detail that's generally consistent across the comic, but which I want to make note of here because you can see it pretty well: Kendal's eyes glow about the same as the jewel in his sword, mirroring his connection to said sword and calling back to how the jewel became Vash's eye temporarily and thus was once Kendal's eye. You can always see this connection (though there might be some spots where this also changes in a symbolic manner; I went through it quickly on the first time around, so I'll pay more attention when I inevitably reread this), where Kendal's always got that little shine of blue in his eyes the same as the jewel. It's a beautiful visual parallel that encourages the reader to subconsciously link them together, especially since the lines used to illustrate character movements typically mirror their eye color. It's an extension of Kendal.

Did I mention how ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL the colors in this are?

Also, the mythological/legend-type scenes are illustrated in familiar style often used for that type of story, a simple and heavily symbolic two-dimensional cave-painting-like look. They are absolutely beautiful on many levels, employing simple, lovely gradients, slightly rougher and thicker lineart that is nonetheless smoothly beautiful, and working with clear silhouettes (a major strength of this art style, but also a strength in the comic overall). But in particular, I wanted to call attention to a particular thing (see this page https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-12-4/):

The flowing symbolic lineart surrounding each character. This is actually quite consistent across characters—see also Life's typical lines and how they curl:

What's particularly interesting here is how these symbols are often similar, but not the same. Vash's lines are always smooth, clean curls, often playing off each other and echoing one another like ripples in a pond. You'd think they'd look too similar to Life's—but they don't. Life's curl like vines, and they remain connected; where one curve might echo another but exist entirely detached from each other in Vash's, Life's lines still remain wound together, because vines are continuous and don't float around. :P

Tahraim's are less continuous, often breaking up with significantly smaller bits and pieces floating around like—of course—sparks, and come to sharper points. These are also constants: we see the vines repeated over and over in Alinua's dreams of Life, and the echoing ripples of Vash are consistent wherever we encounter him. Kendal's dream of the ghost citizens of the city of Vash in the last few chapters is filled with these rippling, echoing patterns, to beautiful effect (https://comicaurora.com/aurora/1-20-14/):

They ripple and spiral, often in long, sinuous curves, with smooth elegance. It reminds me a great deal of images of space and sine waves and the like. This establishes a definite feel to these different characters and their magic. And the thing is, that's not something that had to be done—the colors are good at emphasizing who's who. But it was done, and it adds a whole other dimension to the story. Whenever you're in a deity's domain, you know whose it is no matter the color.

Regarding that shape language, I wanted to make another note, too—Vash is sometimes described as chaotic and doing what he likes, which is interesting to me, because smooth, elegant curves and the color blue aren't generally associated with chaos. So while Vash might behave like that on the surface, I'm guessing he's got a lot more going on underneath; he's probably much more intentional in his actions than you'd think at a glance, and he is certainly quite caring with his city. The other thing is that this suits Kendal perfectly. He's a paragon character; he is kind, virtuous, and self-sacrificing, and often we see him aiming to calm others and keep them safe. Blue is such a good color for him. There is… probably more to this, but I'm not deep enough in yet to say.

And here's the thing: I'm only scratching the surface. There is so much more here I'm not covering (color palettes! outfits! character design! environment! the deities! so much more!) and a lot more I can't cover, because I don't have the experience; this is me as a hobbyist artist who happened to take a couple design classes because I wanted to. The art style to this comic is so clever and creative and beautiful, though, I just had to go off about it. <3

...brownie points for getting all the way down here? Have a cookie.

#aurora comic #aurora webcomic #comicaurora #art analysis #...I hope those are the right tags??? #new fandom new tagging practices to learn ig #much thanks for something to read while I try to rest my wrists. carpal tunnel BAD. (ignore that I wrote this I've got braces ok it's fine) #anyway! I HAVE. MANY MORE THOUGHTS. ON THE STORY ITSELF. THIS LOVELY STORY #also a collection of reactions to a chunk of the comic before I hit the point where I was too busy reading to write anything down #idk how to format those tho #...yeet them into one post...??? #eh I usually don't go off this much these days but this seems like a smaller tight-knit fandom so... might as well help build it? #and I have a little more time thanks to break so #oh yes also shoutout to my insanely awesome professor for teaching me all the technical stuff from this he is LOVELY #made an incredibly complex program into something comprehensible <3 #synapse talks

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Baby fever

PAIRING | Husband!Young!Tony Stark x Wife!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 3.7K

SUMMARY | You and Tony have three beautiful children, but since your youngest son is growing up faster than either of you would like, Tony's baby fever is kicking into high gear. He can't get enough of seeing you pregnant, and he's making it his goal to have it happen again. There's enough room in the house for one more, after all.

RATING | Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Established relationship, nicknames (Sunshine, My Love, Baby, Handsome), tooth-rotting fluff combined with toe-curling smut.

SMUT | Porn with a bit of plot, D/S undertones, Sub!Tony is heavily featured throughout the story, breeding/pregnancy kink, lactation kink, drinking of breastmilk (sexual), daddy kink, mommy kink, begging, teasing, hair pulling, nipple play, nipple piercings, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, aftercare.

A/N | This amazing fic is completely inspired by the lovely @ccbsrmsf1, who has helped me come up with the idea and supported me every step of the way! Carol, this is for you, and I sincerely hope you will enjoy it! I love you, and I cannot thank you enough for being in my life 💜

EVENTS Masterlist | @fluffbruary Fluffbruary '24 | Wish Masterlist | @sweetspicybingo Sweethearts | Nice ass

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | AU Masterlist

Since you found Tony's old football jersey from your college days, you have been plotting a plan to wear it in the hopes of getting a reaction out of your husband. Today is perfect for that, as you're visiting your Mom in California, and she offered to take all three of your wonderful kids to Disneyland with her fiancé, Jackson.

"You two can stay home and have some alone time; you deserve it, Buttercup. You've been working so hard, and now that you're finally able to see him after he's been gone for filming, you should make up for some of the lost time," Virginia told you with a wink, and even though you were a little embarrassed at first, you also know she's right.

With three kids, it's proving to be rather challenging to have some time to yourselves and be intimate, so this is the perfect solution. That's how you find yourself standing in the bathroom in your Mom's house, wearing only your glasses and Tony's dark blue football jersey. The fabric reaches down to your knees, and your nipple piercings show through the fabric for a bit of a teasing touch.

With one last deep breath, you walk to the kitchen, where Tony has just finished the dishes from the lunch he prepared for you earlier. He turns around at the sound of your footsteps on the tiled flooring, but before he can say anything, he is greeted by you, clothed as if you walked right out of one of his wet dreams.

"Fuck, Sunshine, you sure know how to surprise your man," Tony growls as he walks over to where you're standing. As he takes in your form, he can already feel himself growing hard inside his sweatpants, which doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"I thought we could have some fun on the couch, My Love. The kids are with Mom and Jackson, so we have this all to ourselves," you whisper in his ear as you pull him closer by his shirt, his breath hitching as his now hard and sensitive cock makes contact with your soft belly.

"Who am I to say no when my beautiful wife looks like she walked out of my dreams?" Tony answers, his voice dropping an octave as lust fills it. Your hands glide under his shirt, pulling it over his head before discarding it.

Before you move on to anything else, you let your long nails rake over his sensitive nipples, a moan escaping from Tony's slack lips as you smirk up at him.

"Always so sensitive for me," you tell him before standing on your toes and taking his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down softly as he moans again. His long, dark lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he took in the pleasure.

"Good boy," you whisper against his mouth, his bottom lip lightly swelling, making him look even more beautiful than he already was. You kiss his tattoo softly as he lets his hands glide into your hair to ground himself gently.

"Let's move this to the couch, Sunshine," Tony tells you with a slight New York drawl, pleasure already taking over his brain. As you proceed to push him to the couch, you can feel yourself getting more and more wet with every step you two take. As soon as his legs hit the couch, he lets himself fall, spreading his thighs to give his achingly hard cock some room as it strains against the fabric.

Your legs are placed on each side of him, the jersey riding up dangerously high as you take your place. Your ass and pussy are barely covered when you sit, Tony's hands rubbing your thighs as he takes in the sight in front of him.

"You're so fucking gorgeous like this, Sunshine, 'm very lucky with you as my wife," he whispers before capturing your lips with his and taking the lead, effectively taking back any domination you had over him. You moan into his mouth as he slips in his tongue, his fingers digging into the inked flesh on your thighs.

As he glides his hands up your thighs and under his jersey, he finds the bare globes of your butt, kneading them softly as you start to move your hips to get a little friction, the fabric of his sweatpants relieving the burning ache of pleasure between your thighs.

"Can you look at me for a moment, Sunshine? I've got something important to tell you," Tony whispers in your ear, and that's when you realize your eyes have slipped shut. When you open them, you look into his dark brown eyes. As he takes a deep breath, you can't help but think about how beautiful he looks, and a smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

"I know we've been talking about adding a fourth baby to our family, and I can't stop thinking about it. How perfect would it be if we had a small girl who would look just like you? I can't stop thinking about it, you with your perfect, round belly as I drink from these amazing tits of yours before you make me a Daddy again," Tony says, another gush of arousal leaking out as you soak Tony's pants even further.

"Please, Sunshine, will you give me another baby? Let me fill you up with my cum until you're beautifully round for me as you carry our daughter?" he asks as he nuzzles his nose against your throat, your head tipping back to give him even more access.

"Yes, My Love, please! I want all your delicious cum inside me, and I want to make another baby with you; I would love to add another name to his amazing tattoo of yours," you tell him, your fingertips gliding softly over the ink proudly displayed on the firm plane of muscle. The sun, moon, and stars look beautiful; your kid's names make it perfect.

And with those words, it's officially decided: you and Tony will add another baby to your family. Whether it will be your Little Prince or Princess, it doesn't matter because you both know they will be loved deeply. And before it's time to find out, you can have all the fun in the world when you're making your newest addition.

"Let's get the jersey off, hm? I want to touch my girl the way she deserves," Tony says, and you nod, lifting your arms in response to his question. During all this, you never stopped rutting your hips over his cock, his release almost there as he lifted the fabric.

"That's it, Sunshine, you make Daddy feel good," he tells you with a breathy voice. As soon as the fabric is over your pierced breasts, making them spill out and bounce before him, he loses every ounce of self-control. Groaning loudly as he cums in his pants like a teenager, a deep red blush covers his cheeks and neck as he rides out his orgasm under you.

"Ah, did you cum already, Baby? What do you think? Do you want Mommy to clean up her sweet, blushing boy?" you purr in his ear, and he nods as you slide off his lap and take your place between his legs. Your fingers hook around the fabric of his sweatpants before tugging them down, revealing the sticky mess he created not even a few minutes ago.

His cock is lying soft between his thighs, but it's by no means small, and you're already drooling at the sight. He whimpers softly as you take hold of his sensitive member, your tongue licking clean every single inch of him.

"M-Mommy, please, wanna drink," Tony whispers, and you smile before getting up, taking your place on his lap again. Tony has always enjoyed drinking your breastmilk now that you’re breastfeeding your son Paxton, and it’s something you both highly enjoy each time he does, whether it’s in a sexual manner or just to calm his mind.

"Yeah? Do you want to drink from Mommy? Go ahead, Baby, take what you want." As soon as the words have left your lips, he's latched onto your breast, suckling heavily until the first spurts of your breastmilk hit his tongue, and he sighs contently as his brain calms down at the feeling of the pierced nipple in his mouth.

Your head falls back as Tony drinks from you, and you can't resist sliding your bare pussy over his thigh, the friction feeling delicious together with the feeling of your husband drinking from you. Soft moans leave your lips as you brace yourself with your hands in his hair, pulling it as you can feel your orgasm creeping closer.

Tony seemingly gets the hint as he flexes his thigh muscles, and with only a few more thrusts over his thigh, you're falling apart with a chant of his name. He groaned before letting go of your one breast, only to quickly latch onto the other, which he drank happily from as you rode out your orgasm.

"That's it, my sweet boy, keep drinking from Mommy," you tell him as you guide him to sit with his back against the couch, his mouth never leaving your nipple as he sucks to get more of the precious milk he loves so much. You let yourself recover from your orgasm as he does, just enjoying the intimate moment with your husband right now.

By the time he's finished, he is also fully hard again, your hand wrapped around his cock as you jerk him gently, earning yourself soft moans and whimpers from him that have your pussy dripping within no time.

On days like these, when Tony's letting you take the lead, you're feeling a power you've rarely felt, and you love using him for nothing but your pleasure. And he loves being your human fucktoy, too.

"Do you want to make Mommy feel good with this delicious cock of yours? Want to fill me up with your cum to give me a baby?" you ask Tony, and he nods with a dopey smile on his face, eyes glazed over as they're looking at you from underneath his long, dark lashes.

"Please, Mommy, wanna fill you up," he whispers, his hand gliding over his chest to his cock, grabbing the base as you get in position on top of him. As much as you and Tony love missionary, moments like these make you like cowgirl even more. Riding Tony to his orgasm as you can play with his nipples, pull his hair, or have him do the most unthinkable of things to you have you clenching already, and he's not even inside you yet.

The moment you sink onto his cock, you can feel every single vein on it, the stretch giving a positive burn as it feels like you're being split open. When he's soft, he's already big, but when he's hard? You can barely take all of him in your mouth, and the stretch of your pussy is always something you have to take your time with. He doesn't tell you that he'll feed you his monster of a cock for nothing, after all.

"Oh, fuck! Such a perfect cock for me, Baby, splitting me open so well! Can feel you in my belly," you whisper when you're fully seated, his balls pressing against your ass while you adjust to his size. Moans are tumbling from both your lips, and Tony can't stop digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips, a pussydrunk look on his face.

"S-so tight, Mommy, such a tight pussy for me to love," he tells you after pulling you closer, the warm metal of your piercings a stark contrast against the rest of your flesh. His face is nuzzled in your neck as he breathes in your scent, and you pepper soft kisses on his hair and neck.

C'mere, sweet boy, give Mommy a kiss," you tell him, and he obediently lifts his head, meeting your lips with his in a heated, passionate moment that has his head reeling in no time. Your tongue slips into his mouth effortlessly, dancing with his in a loving, sensual way while his hands are wrapped loosely around your waist, yours tangled in his soft locks.

When you pull away, you put your forehead against his, and you feel his cock throb inside you as you make small, teasing grinds against him. As he looks up at you with sweet, puppylike eyes, your heart flutters, and warmth spreads through your chest at the sight. You're very fortunate to have fallen in love with Tony, and it brings a smile to your face.

"What's funny?" he asks as he pecks your lips, and you place your hands on his cheeks, rubbing them softly with your thumbs.

"Nothin'. I was thinking how lucky I am to be married to you and have our three beautiful Munchkins. You saved me and supported me to become the best version of myself after everything that happened, and I love you more than I could ever tell you," you whisper, trying to fight back the tears as you think back to everything that had happened before you had the chance to meet him.

"I'm the lucky one, Sunshine, got a beautiful wife-" he says as his hands wander over your inked body, fingers trailing carefully over the tattoo you got in his honor. "-and three beautiful babies too. 'M the luckiest man on earth," he tells you with such a sweet, soft voice that you can't help yourself as the tears spill over and Tony quickly wipes them away.

"I love you, Tony," you whisper as you pull him close, needing to feel him for a moment. He happily pulls you against his chest; his face nuzzled in your neck while you place kisses on his shoulder. The moment feels perfect, and you're allowing yourself to bask in the love shared between you two.

After a while, Tony's starting to feel a little restless as he tries to rut his hips up into you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your sweet spot each time. You allow him to do his thing as you let him go, and before you know it, he's flipped you over onto the couch, your back now feeling the soft fabric while Tony pounds into you at an unrelenting pace, making you see stars.

"Fuck, that's it! Fuck a baby into me, Daddy, I'm close!" you tell him, and with a shout of his name, you cum, clenching down on his cock as he keeps fucking, his orgasm nearing too. In an effort to ground yourself as he’s bringing you to your high, you take your nails over his back, and it only intensifies the pleasure he feels the deep stinging of your nails scratching his back. A loud groan escapes him before his pace gets sloppy, and you know he’s close.

"That's it, Sunshine, take it, take all my cum! Got so much for you- balls are so fucking heavy all for you," Tony pants out, his pace faltering as he spills every last drop of his cum inside you before carefully pulling out of you.

"I love you so, so much, My Love. Thank you for being the best husband I could have ever asked for," you whisper to his freckled skin, and he hums in response as he's coming down from his high. This was a much-needed moment for the two of you, and you're very grateful for every last second of it.

The two of you took the good part of an hour to bask in the glory of what you two did as you whispered sweet nothings to each other and exchanged a sea of kisses and soft touches. Now it's time for a much-needed shower, as you're covered in dried-up sweat, cum, and arousal, and you're starting to feel a little sticky everywhere.

"C'mon, My Love! Let's hop in the shower, and after, we can watch a movie on the couch," you tell Tony, and he agrees as he gets up from the couch, though his legs still feel like they're made out of jelly. As he falls back onto the couch, you can't help but chuckle at the sight and take a moment to take in the sight in front of you.

Tony's seated on the couch with his eyes looking at you intently, his cream-colored skin slightly flushed from the exertion you have put him through. His broad shoulders, the chest hair trailing down to his toned abs, and his happy trail all led to his delicious cock. If he weren't already entirely spent, you would have happily spent more time on your knees worshipping it, but instead, you reach out your hand to help him again.

"You like what you see, Sunshine?" Tony says shyly, and you feel a heat roaring up inside you. There's nothing you love more than when Tony's shy side comes out, making him look even cuter. It's something all your kids have, too, and it's a trait you adore about them.

"Always do, Handsome," you tell him as you pull him up, finally making your way to the shower. You both take your time washing each other's bodies, and Tony can't help but pay some extra attention to your nipples, rolling and tugging carefully on the barbells adorning them to coax more moans out of you.

"Let's get you settled on the bed, My Love - you've been such a good boy for Mommy that you deserve a back massage," you tell him, and he can feel his cock jump at your words. The sight of you being pregnant shoots through his mind again, and he has to use every ounce of self-control not to bend you over the bed and take you right then and there.

When he's lying on his stomach on the bed, you go and straddle his thighs right beneath his butt before dripping some of your favorite massage oil onto his muscled back. With a soft hum, you start massaging it in, starting at his shoulders as you rub out the knots there.

"God, how did I get so fucking lucky?! Got a beautiful wife with a body to die for, an amazing personality, and great at massaging? I must have won the jackpot with you, Sunshine," he grumbles as you work out every last knot in his back, relaxing him completely as every bit of tension melts under your skilled fingertips.

"I'm lucky too, you know; I get to see the nice ass you have back here every single day," you tell him with a playful smack on his butt cheek, a deep chuckle escaping from his chest that has your butterflies go crazy. Even after a few years of marriage and over a decade of being together, he still makes you feel like you did the first time you met him.

When the massage is finished, both of you get dressed in matching grey lounge outfits, with 'Mr. Stark' and 'Mrs. Stark' embroidered on them, together with your wedding date. Both of you wear your glasses to finish it off, and now it's time to relax until everyone comes home.

As you watch a few movies together on the couch, you're constantly cuddling, kissing, or having a little make-out session between feeding each other various sorts of fruit until your belly starts to rumble around dinner time, and it's time for the two of you to order some take-out. Before they all went out the door, Virginia slipped Tony some money for dinner, and even though you two could easily afford it yourselves, she wanted to take care of you on your relaxing day.

"Pizza?" "Pizza!" you answered, and before you knew it, you were seated in Tony's lap while watching the fourth Harry Potter movie and munching on the pepperoni pizza Tony ordered. The only thing that could make your evening even better was seeing your Munchkins again; luckily you don't have to wait long for that to happen.

Around 8:30 PM, you hear some stumbling. Hudson and Orion are running into the living room, practically lunging themselves onto the couch where you and Tony are cuddling as the fifth Harry Potter movie is just starting.

"Hi, my sweet Munchkins. Did you have fun with Nanna and Jackson today?" Tony asks as he pulls Orion onto his lap for a big hug. Hudson is already curling against your side for his fill of cuddles.

"We did! We went on all the rides, and Gramps bought all three of us a stuffie to bring back," Hudson told both of you, and your gaze shot to Jackson, your Mom's fiancé, as you fought back the tears. This is the first time you heard them call him anything other than Jackson, which genuinely warms your heart.

"Yeah, see? I got Mickey Mouse, Orion got Minnie Mouse, and Paxton got Winnie the Pooh because it matches his sweater," he continues as he shows off his new stuffed animal.

"And have you said thank you to Gramps yet?" you ask them, to which they nodded profusely.

"Good, now you two can prepare for bed because you've had a long day today. I'll be with you to tuck you into bed in 10 minutes, okay?" you tell them, and they nod before getting up and going to the room they're sharing, both ready to go to sleep shortly after.

"And now it's time for some cuddles with my Little One," you sigh happily as you take Paxton from your Mom. He's asleep as you place a soft kiss on his cheek, reveling in the cuteness that is your youngest son. He looks exactly like Tony, making your heart flutter whenever you see it. Now, all you need is a little girl who looks like you and the entire set will be complete.

"How did he do today?" Tony asks as he straightens out Paxton's little sweater.

"Oh, he did amazing! He was delighted to meet some of the characters; he ate like a champ and slept perfectly during nap time as the twins were playing on one of the playgrounds. None of them caused us any trouble at all," Virginia tells you both, and you rest your head on Tony's shoulder as you take in the sight of your son.

It's clear to everyone that the baby fever has officially kicked into full gear for both of you, and there's nothing you have ever wished for more. One more baby will complete your family, and you can't wait to meet them when they're here one day.

#fluffbruary 2024 #sweetspicyhearts #tony stark #tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fanfic #tony stark one shot #tony stark imagine #tony stark x female!reader #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark fluff #tony stark smut #young tony stark #young tony stark fanfiction #young tony stark fanfic #young tony stark one shot #young tony stark imagine #young tony stark x female reader #young tony stark x reader #young tony stark x y/n #young tony stark fluff #young tony stark smut

[see-arcane]

The Vampyres--The Bones and Blood of the Book

Good news! I’m not dead and the book isn’t either! Just shambling slowly through the wasteland of the publication process. It’s been a bit since I last waved this bloody morsel around. So, consider this a progress report on the state of the novella, the prospective publishing options, and a few other questions that have been bouncing around in the inbox.

EDIT:

I have a website now! For some reason.

It's See Arcane Scribbles.

Smaller Edit:

Got a Spotify too for story soundtrack goodness:

COVERS

First things first—and the first part of a finished book is the cover. Here are some mockups I’ve been juggling, starting with the original placeholder. They’re far from perfect, but I’m proud of what I managed with a fairly skinny graphic art skill set.

FINISHING, FORMAT, AND FINANCE*

*(OR, THE HEADACHENING)

Copyright: Technically speaking, you have the copyright to your own writing once you put it to paper or screen. But this is somehow a different thing from a legally-binding registered copyright, which everyone declares is a must-have if you want your work to be protected with more than a non-textual trust-fall exercise, hoping nobody steals your work and runs.

That said, electronic registration with the copyright office is $65, or $45 to register one work by one author.

ISBN: I only recently learned the words behind this acronym. ‘International Standard Book Number.’ It’s the ID on a book that marks it as unique and helps commercial booksellers and libraries circulate it. Each iteration of a book—paperback, digital, hardcover, new editions, et cetera—has its own ISBN. When you’re publishing on your own, you purchase ISBNs through a service called Bowker.

One book/version’s ISBN costs $125.

There are better bargains the higher the number of books and/or versions you go, starting at a bulk of 10 books for $295. But as I only have the one (1) skinny novella on the table, that’s a no-go. Which begs the question of how many ISBNs are in store for this little monster. It depends on how many formats I go with.

eBook: The quickest and most cost-efficient option across the board for any self-publication service. Short, sweet, no printing pains of trim sizes or distribution costs or formatting, oh my. Nice.

Paperback VS Hardcover: …But I am now and forever a sucker for physical media. Even though it’s a teeny brochure of a thing, I want to hold a physical copy of The Vampyres in my hands! So bad! And every service I’ve looked through has stated the obvious: Hardcover costs more than paperback. My heart won’t break if I have to stick with paperback to spare everyone’s wallets—hardcovers are pricy in both directions!—but I am a little torn. Especially as physical size might affect the price too.

Here we have two of my favorite quick reads, an anthology of Poe stories and Clive Barker’s novella, The Hellbound Heart.

The Poe book is a clothbound hardcover. 6.5 x 4.5 inches, a bit over 120 pages.

The Hellbound Heart is roughly 8 x 5 inches (about standard for a novella), at 164 pages. But unlike Poe, it looks like Barker took some liberties with the spacing and font size.

Standard size dimensions cost less than unique cuts, which means that whether paperback or hardcover, I sadly have to say goodbye to the petite palm-sized edition I was hoping for. On the upside, good news to us crap-vision readers—the font’s going to get H U G E in order to make the book more than a pamphlet with delusions of grandeur.

Audiobook: The fact is, my voice is not up to the task of reciting anything with appropriate gravitas and I think we’ve all been spoiled by @re-dracula and assorted other podcasts’ skill in orating. I don’t have the cash to hire a professional and I’m not about to accept anyone’s freebie offers. I won’t pickpocket friends for their talent. If an audio version ever comes along for any story of mine it’ll be down the road when it proves worth the format’s effort and cost.

REVIEWS (and a Foreword!)

It was the best of times (People reading the thing! Commenting on the thing! Good good good—), it was the worst of times (The Mortifying Ordeal of People Reading and Commenting on the Thing). Time for what every advice site declares a book absolutely must have the moment it’s thrust into the wild.

Reviews, reviews, reviews.

I’ve already bitten several bullets and passed copies out to a handful of fellow scribblers to scrutinize, their reviews destined to be hung up like literary gold stars on their bookselling site of choice, my own included. Now comes my preliminary grovel to readers en masse to please drop a review, a comment, a blurb of any shape or size where you can once The Vampyres drops. I’ve already gotten some early comments that have consisted mostly of screaming. Screams also count as a review.

As an aside, there are two folks in particular who I reached out to who exist in the stratosphere of Coolest People in the Vampiric Lit scene. They promptly exploded me into disbelieving giblets when they told me, yes, they’d be happy to read my little story and offer up a review and a foreword for the book respectively.

I’m not sure what the decorum here is, but for safety (and surprise’s) sake, I’ll not name names. But they are names I’ve been happy to come across for the past two years while neck deep in the undead book club. I’m infinitely grateful to both of them and am waiting on pins, needles, stakes and kukri blades by my inbox so I can pin their words up inside the book itself.

FUTURE SCRIBBLING

To get one of the biggest questions out of the way, let’s talk about Barking Harker.

My very own object lesson on sunk cost fallacy.

I wrote my way through a goddamn cinderblock of text without even grazing the finish line of the first section of the story. A story made of so many convoluted triple-decker layers of subplots and side characters that it had the structural integrity of a monolithic Nature Valley granola bar, just waiting to fall apart under its own weight. Such is the hubris and curse of too-many-words-itis. The Vampyres remains a miraculous fluke, jotted down during an overdue break from BH’s slog. Not just because I tripped and fell into finishing the story, but because it’s comparatively compact! Brevity at last!

For those still craving the assorted gothic and ghoulish promises of the initial novel idea, don’t worry, those aren’t going anywhere. I’ve just crumbled the metaphorical bloodstained granola by my own hand and have done the sane thing of parsing out the various subplots to become the foundations of their own stories. Which they really should have been from the get-go. Insert 100+ clown emojis here.

On that note, I am turning into WIPs Georg over here. Good god.

I hesitate to throw myself all-in again and make promises of X Story that may leave me spinning my mental wheels or ballooning the plot out into a behemoth that can’t be steered back on course. Even so, here’s a peek at a few ideas I currently have on the brain.

So.

Not exactly lacking for stories. It’s just a matter of seeing which of them breaks ahead of the herd and squeezes out into the publication ether first.

LAST BIT  

Blah, blah, requisite reminder that I have a Ko-Fi where you can donate a buck or commission my best attempt at art, blah. Any pennies are a help.

But I’m betting very few of you came around here for my doodles. Somehow, a good amount of people tripped into this pit with me because you enjoy the rambles and horrors I’ve written over the years. Maybe some of you will even buy my book once it’s out. And you, there, on the other side of the screen—you’re reading this right now. You made it all the way to the bottom of this pile of exposition just because you wanted to. So, thank you.

Thank you for reading this far. Thank you for reading before and reading what’s to come. Thank you for giving me the confidence to even consider shouldering my own work out into the wider world.

Thank you.

P.S. If you want to re-read the preview, go here!

#this one is a Big Boy #the vampyres #my writing #my art #horror #the vampyre #dracula #barking harker #Spotify

[daizymax]

let loose | hhj (m)

summary: it's a party, and your roommate said you should loosen up once in a while, so why is he upset when you start making out with one of his friends?

pairing: hyunjin x fem reader

genre: smut

word count: 6.2k

rating: mature (18+)

warnings & features: roommate!hyunjin; profanity; alcohol consumption; some name-calling (reader calls hyunjin an asshole and an idiot one time each); jealousy; jisung is briefly featured only to be used for very poor plot purposes i'm so sorry; graphic sexual content; dirty talk; vaginal fingering; protected sex

author's note: reuploaded from my old blog with some edits (nothing major though). hope you enjoy!

( click here to read on AO3 instead )

---

It’s not the book’s fault, yet you still take your frustration out on it by slinging it across your bedroom after the - not third, not fourth, but - fifth drunken guest stumbles into your closed door.

“I swear to god,” you groan, tossing aside your comforter to begrudgingly pull on a pair of pants and step out of what was supposed to be your safe haven for the night.

Into the fray it is, then.

Whichever culprit tripped into your door a moment ago is not in the hallway anymore. From the living room and kitchen, you can hear laughter and chatter straining to be heard over the booming music. And as you pass the bathroom, you lock eyes with a young man and glimpse someone in there behind him before he closes the door.

Sighing, you make your way to the living room. Nothing appears to have been destroyed, you note gratefully, but the “small gathering” is clearly busier and rowdier than what your roommate had promised. He’s not here in the crowded living room, though, so you move to check the kitchen next, pushing and squeezing past bodies with mumbled apologies as you go.

You find Hyunjin upending a bottle of tequila into a row of shot glasses. Half of his nearly shoulder-length blond hair is gathered in a knot behind his head, looking maddeningly elegant when the same hairstyle on anyone else would look messy at best. His white button-down shirt hugs his shoulders nicely, and the sleeves are folded up near his elbows, giving a clear view of the tendons in his forearms flexing beneath smooth, creamy skin as he works. It’s a simple look, but his entire appearance is still too well-kept for this hour and setting, in your opinion. You’ve always held the belief that Home is a safe place to not give a shit how you look, not a place to be looking like… that.

He spots you and smiles, though you notice a hint of sheepishness in his eyes as well. He’s pleasantly surprised to see you, but he’s also aware you’ve been disturbed on his account. Even still, he doesn’t greet you with a due apology. He keeps his tone light and carefree as he calls out: “Hey! Did you change your mind about joining the fun? You want a shot?”

You make a face. “Ick, no, tequila is such a nasty drink,” you decline. When you get close enough, you lean into his shoulder and mutter, “What the fuck, dude, you said a 'few' people. And it’s two A.M.”

He turns to consult the clock over the stove and shrugs. “Perfect time for things to be in full swing then, I’d say. And you must not be doing your shots right, babe.” He gestures toward a bowl of lime wedges, and you vaguely wonder when he picked those up because you certainly didn’t purchase them yourself.

“I know how to do a tequila shot, asshole. But still,” you dismiss without elaborating further. “I’m going back to bed. Can you try to keep your friends away from my room, please? They keep fucking bumping into my door. Oh, and if they need a bathroom, tell them to use yours because I think a couple of them are hooking up in the guest one right now.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen momentarily, then crease in amusement. He leans to the side and shouts behind you, “Yo, Jisung! Where’d Jisung go? Hey! Someone tell him Minho is-”

You’re not interested in hearing Minho’s story or what Jisung has to say about it, whoever they both are. You’re only interested in preserving some semblance of sanctity in your home, so you get back in your roommate’s face and cut him off with a terse warning. “Hyunjin, please, I’m serious. Keep it civil in here.”

“Okay, ‘mom,’ jeez.”

You toss your hands up in defeat and spin on your heel to storm off, but he catches your bicep.

“No, wait, I’m sorry, Y/N, really,” he says more sincerely when he gets you to turn back around. You cross your arms and wait for more. “We’ll be good, and I’ll make sure everyone is out in an hour, even if I have to personally drive them all home myself,” he promises, going dramatically over the top to show you how serious he is. “But you really should just join us, you know. I’ve told you you’re welcome to.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I am. I fucking live here.”

“Exactly. This is your home, so you should let loose once in a while.”

“And what could I possibly gain from getting drunk with you and your friends?”

“Uh, the experience of actually having fun for once? And the pleasure of our - well, mainly my - amazing company?” Hyunjin answers with a tone and a face that tells you it should have been obvious. 

“Yeah, right,” you snort.

“Just let me see you have one shot, babe. Humor me. Pretty please?”

You eye the pitiful, pleading look on his pouty face, then the spread of liquor on the sticky countertop, and eventually cave. “Fine, where’s the salt?”

Hyunjin watches in delight as you lick the back of your hand to prepare it for the salt. As you’re sprinkling it on, someone joins the two of you in the kitchen.

“Hey Hyunjin, were you just calling me?” He doesn’t wait for the answer to that before he’s going on, “Who’s this? I don’t think we’ve met.”

You turn to face the newcomer and stretch out your unsalted hand. “Hey, I’m Y/N, Hyunjin’s roommate.”

“Oh!” He takes your hand in both of his and squeezes it enthusiastically. “Good to finally meet you. I’m Jisung.”

You throw a cheeky smile at your roommate as you grab one of the shot glasses. “Why do I get the feeling I’ve been talked about behind my back?” you ask neither of them in particular, though Hyunjin at least has the decency to blush over being caught.

“Nothing bad,” Jisung rushes to clarify. “Hyunjin’s just mentioned you sometimes, like whenever something reminds him of you or- something.”

His abrupt finish makes you think Hyunjin just gave him some kind of shut-the-fuck-up look, but you missed it. You don’t press for details, though. You just go about getting through the shot you were so easily talked into. So you lick the salt from your hand, down the tequila in one burning swallow, then bite into the flesh of a lime wedge in sequence as quickly as you can while the boys watch.

“Awful. Just awful,” you declare when you’re finished, smacking your lips and clicking your tongue in disgust.

Jisung chuckles and Hyunjin claps your back rather proudly as he takes the bitten lime wedge to throw it away.

“Do you like beer? We can drink beer instead,” Jisung suggests.

You look to see if he is in fact speaking to you, which does appear to be the case from his smile and hopeful eye contact.

Before you answer, you take the time to give him a proper once-over. He’s very attractive, but it’s not as instantly noticeable as with Hyunjin. Something in the way his smile begins faltering the longer you stare at him is utterly endearing to you, though.

“We?” you tease.

“I mean, if that’s c-cool with you-” he starts backtracking on his boldness.

“Y/N isn’t really into parties, are you, babe?” Hyunjin suddenly speaks up for you. “I think she was just going back to her room.”

Jisung furrows his eyebrows and pouts. “Aw, really?”

You give Hyunjin a look that is both stern and confused. You have mixed feelings about the pet name to begin with. It’s one thing for him to want to call you something other than your name when it’s just the two of you, but he never calls you that in front of others. Or he never has before, at least. Now it makes it sound like the two of you are… a couple? An item? Which is not the case.

Plus, he’d been excited to have you out here “joining the fun” a moment ago, but now he’s okay with you retreating to your room? Or perhaps he just doesn’t want you spending time with Jisung in particular...

Upon connecting those dots, you decide you only have one choice in the matter.

“Actually, I’ve changed my mind about that. I’d love to have a beer with you, Jisung,” you say sweetly, to which he beams.

“Great!” The return of his smile assures you you’ve made the right choice. “Lead the way.”

Hyunjin shoots his friend another look as you and Jisung leave the kitchen together, but you miss that one, too.

---

“So, what made a girl like you move in with a guy like Hyunjin?”

“‘A girl like me,’” you repeat, downing another swig of beer. “So you think you know all about me now since we’ve talked about our jobs and hobbies, huh?”

Jisung doesn’t flinch against your teasing this time, just laughs. “I mean, I’m definitely not opposed to learning more about you.”

He stretches an arm behind you on the back of the couch and scoots closer. He really is a very good looking guy, and you know it’s not the alcohol adding optimism to your vision, either, because you haven’t had all that much. He has great hair, pretty eyes, cute nose, nice teeth, beautiful cheekbones. A little excitable, you can tell, but also charming and polite. He’s cute.

He holds your gaze with a small but unwavering smile this time as he waits for you to either answer his initial question or offer more information about yourself. You opt for neither.

“Maybe I don’t want to talk about me anymore.”

“Okay, that’s cool. What would you rather talk-”

You lean in and kiss him. Just a peck, a gentle press of your lips to his, not too fast but still over before he’s fully registered the gesture or able to return it.

“Oh,” Jisung whispers in understanding when you pull back a little.

“Was that okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, yeah, perfectly okay,” he assures. He bites his tingling lip and smirks, then lifts his arm from the couch to place his hand on the nape of your neck. “But I wasn’t quite ready. Can we try that again?”

You nod, and he closes the gap to kiss you back properly this time. From some corner of your apartment, a tipsy guest whistles over the scene, but you’re more interested in the hum Jisung lets out as both your lips part and tongues slip together in sync. He tastes of beer and salty snacks, but something on him - his shampoo or his lotion or his cologne or maybe a mixture of the three - smells faintly sweet and minty.

His fingertips gently tickle your neck for a bit, then hold firmly to draw you deeper into his kisses. You consider moving onto his lap, but something in the back of your mind tells you not to cause too much of a scene in the middle of Hyunjin’s party.

In fact, if you were paying more attention to your surroundings outside of this cute stranger, you might have noticed the onlookers stirring up a scandalized fuss over your roommate already making a beeline toward the couch, but it isn’t until he’s shoving the two of you apart that you do.

“What the hell, man?” Jisung protests.

Hyunjin ignores him, addressing you instead. “Y/N, can I talk to you for a second, please?”

Apparently by “talk” he means pull you completely out of the room and partway down the hallway like a barbarian before you manage to wrest your hand away.

“What the hell, Hyunjin?” you repeat Jisung’s question with double the annoyance.

“I’m here asking you the same thing,” he snaps back in a hushed tone. “Why are you making out with a stranger on the couch?”

You cross your arms in front of him for the second time tonight and raise an eyebrow to his attitude. “I thought I was just letting loose, having fun and enjoying the pleasure of your friends’ company. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I didn’t mean like that! And why Jisung?”

“What’s wrong with Jisung? He seems nice.”

Hyunjin gawps like he’s never heard those words out of anyone’s mouth before. “You’ve only known him for like half an hour!”

“So? He still seems nice. And he’s really hot...”

You turn your head back to the living room to try and catch Jisung’s eye and give him a signal that you’ll be with him again shortly, but Hyunjin dives to block your line of sight.

“He’s not good enough for you, trust me.”

“Well for fuck’s sake, Hyunjin, I’m not trying to marry him! I’m just trying to get laid,” you spell out bluntly. Hyunjin scoffs but doesn’t reply, just looks down at the floor. You scrutinize the plain displeasure all over his face and smirk as a sneaking suspicion occurs to you. “Unbelievable. Is the Hwang Hyunjin actually jealous?”

“Yes.” His swift, honest answer catches you completely by surprise and stuns you into silence. When he gauges that you’re not going to reply, he continues, “It’s not fair, Y/N. We’ve been living together for months and it only took Jisung thirty minutes to get you to want to sleep with him? I’ve been here this whole time. I’ve been- I’ve wanted you this whole time...”

You process his words in continued silence for nearly a full minute, then finally say, “If I’d known it would only take me making out with one of your friends to get you to confess that, I would’ve joined one of your parties sooner. Or you could have just told me from the start, you know.”

Hyunjin recognizes a joke somewhere in your words and automatically lets a laugh slip, but soon snaps his head up. “Wait, really?”

“You’re such an idiot,” you chuckle. “But I guess I am, too. I guess we’ve both been wasting all this time. Want to make up for it?”

His eyes blow wide. “R-Right now? Aren’t you drunk?”

“No. Are you?”

“No…”

“Then why not? I mean, I guess we can at least kick everyone out first, if you wa-”

His lips are on yours before you can finish the thought. They’re just as plush as they look, but the impact is sharp, and you take only a brief moment to grunt over it before you’re reciprocating in full, grabbing his shoulders tightly and pulling him closer. He tastes like traces of salt, too. Citrusy as well. And the woody scent of his cologne is an all too familiar comfort in your nostrils. He wraps his arms around you and you sigh, happily letting him overwhelm your senses.

“Babe… please tell me this won’t be a one-time thing,” Hyunjin mumbles between ravishing blows of lips and teeth.

“Wasn’t planning on it being.”

“And you’re sure you’re not drunk?” he checks again.

“I’m sure, Hyunjin. I want this.”

“Bedroom, then.”

“Yours or mine?” you giggle.

“I don’t care… yours,” he decides quickly, steering you by the hips in the right direction.

There is already a couple in there tangled together in their own passionate lip-lock when you stumble through the door. You’ll have time to be upset about their evident plans to defile your safe haven later when you’re not in your own haste to commit nasty acts in it.

“Get the fuck out,” Hyunjin growls at them.

You expect at least one of them to argue that they were here first, but they heed his command without a word, hastily picking up one of their discarded shirts before scampering off.

Hyunjin slams the door behind them with a careless kick of his foot, then continues right on kissing you like you’re holding all the air in the room. At the same time, his hands are busy trying to map every line of your body like it’s something he needed to have memorized yesterday.

“Hyunjin - ungh -  I know we’re making up for lost time, but - mmph - we can still - hah - slow down, you know,” you laugh, struggling to get your words out in the midst of the feverish pace he’s setting.

He nearly whimpers at that. “Just want you so fucking bad, you have no idea. Been waiting so long to touch you, kiss you.”

His lips skim across your cheek and over to your ear. Whatever response you had in mind is lost when he nips your earlobe with his teeth then soothes the sting with the tip of his wet tongue.

“You like that?” he asks, though he suspects he knows the answer already by the shiver that runs through you.

“Y-yeah.”

He does it again - a quick nip of his teeth and a sensual flick of his tongue - and then he’s on to the next thing, trailing those enticing lips down the column of your throat, suckling gently at your skin the entire way.

“Can we take this off?” Hyunjin asks next, alerting you to where his fingers have hooked themselves under the hem of your shirt.

At your nod, he yanks it up and drops it aside. There is a glimmer in his eyes as he takes in your bare chest, as though one of his biggest fantasies has just sprung to life before him. You entertain the idea that perhaps it has.

“Holy shit,” he breathes. He’s never been one to impress easily, but there’s no mistaking the look on his face for anything else.

His pace is much slower when he reaches to graze the pads of his thumbs back and forth across your perked nipples. The soft moan you release encourages him to take a better feel with his palms.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve pictured your tits in my head,” he confesses as he carefully gropes you. “All those times you paraded around the apartment without a bra on, nipples sticking through your shirt... fuck, Y/N.”

You huff a small laugh at the thought of you ever “parading” anywhere, but the knowledge that you’ve ever turned him on turns you on even more, as made evident by the growing wetness between your legs.

“And these tight fucking leggings you always wear,” he goes on, roaming his hands down your hips and around to your backside, “drive me insane on you, I swear to god. Any time - every time - I see you bend over, I just want to take you over the counter or the couch or against the wall and give it to you good, baby.”

The new pet name and the sordid confessions spilling from him make you want to join in on the dirty talk, but the feeling of him taking two handfuls of your ass - the feeling of his long-awaited touch in general - is burning you up from the inside, fizzling the majority of your coherent thoughts. All you can bring yourself to speak is: “Show me.”

Hyunjin looks back to your face and grins wickedly. “Oh, I’ll definitely be fucking you in the kitchen at some point in the near future. And in the living room. There are so many things I want to do to you. So many things I want you do to me. We’re gonna fuck each other in every single room in this place, starting with this one.”

He pulls away, and you immediately miss his body heat. You don’t complain, however, because you don’t want to disrupt him from yanking his shirt out from where it’s tucked into his jeans and undoing the buttons one by one with deft twists of his fingers. Once the flaps are loose, he shrugs and lets the fabric spill to a heap on the floor.

You’ve seen him shirtless on many occasions by now. In the mornings, stumbling to the coffee pot while still half asleep. On his way to the laundry room with only a pair of sweatpants riding low on his hips because he always lets his dirty clothes pile up until he has nearly nothing left to wear. But not in this context. Not when it’s finally appropriate for you to stare. Not when the sexual tension that has been building for months is finally about to be shattered.

Yet you don’t even get to admire his chest nearly as much as he did yours before your attention is drawn lower by his hands working to open his belt. He drops it aside with his shirt, and then his jeans follow, and then his boxers, and just like that, he’s standing completely naked in front of you with enough lithe, beautiful glory to almost make your heart stop.

Hyunjin takes a step closer to you, his erection bobbing gently and shamelessly in the air with the motion. He puts his hands back on you, snapping the waistband of your pants lightly as he leans in to ask, “Are you gonna get these, or should I?”

“Go ahead,” you invite.

You steady your hands on his shoulders, and he peels your bottoms - underwear and all - far enough down your legs for you to kick them both away. Once he stands up straight again, you wind your arms around his neck and pull him to lie over you on the mattress. He helps position you comfortably in the center with gentle nudges of his knees and tugs of his warm hands, and his lips find their way back to yours in the meantime. You hum contentedly at the return of the citrusy taste that comes from his tongue dipping against yours.

After all his careful maneuvering to get you just where he wanted, you decide this isn’t the position you want after all, so you push your weight against him until he rolls over and slips beneath you.

Hyunjin’s eyelashes flutter prettily as he gazes up at you. Then they scrunch completely shut when you press your center against the shaft of his thick, solid cock. The moan he lets out when you begin to drag yourself up and down his erection may be the single most erotic thing you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he murmurs. “Feel how fucking hard you got me already? That’s all for you.”

Your empty walls clench from his words. Nodding, you whisper, “So hard. So big. Can’t wait to have you inside me.”

He hums and opens his eyes. “Me either. Can I finger you first?”

It’s great that he’s offering because you were just about to request the exact same thing.

“Please.”

Hyunjin wastes no time slipping his hand between your bodies, and you lift up a little higher on your knees to give him more room.

He starts by gently gliding a single finger up and down your slit to gauge how wet you are already. Evidently his findings are unsatisfactory, though, because he quickly removes his hand to bring it up to his face and add some spit to it before bringing it back down. Two of his wet fingers prod shallowly into your hole, and you keen at the sensation.

“Shit, that’s tight,” he mutters, steadily working his knuckles deeper.

It’s clear when he starts searching for your g-spot from the way his fingers start crooking. He has to adjust his depth and angle a few times, but he eventually taps the patch he’s looking for.

Your legs quiver as he starts working up a quick pace against that sweet spot inside you, pressing his fingertips against it with every pump back and forth through your walls.

“Oh god,” you moan, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders. Your hips buck after a particularly good push of his fingers, and he hums knowingly.

“Like sitting on my fingers, baby?” he asks. The tone of his voice is pitched deeper than usual, and it sends a shiver up your spine. The hand that isn't currently inside you runs along your thigh soothingly.

You nod and lick your lips. “Yeah,” you breathe. “F-Feels so fucking good…”

“Can’t believe I finally have you sitting over me with my fingers up your pussy right now,” he says, gaze moving in a line from your face to your chest to your pussy and back again.

Smirking down at him, you say, “It’s about to be your big cock inside me.”

Hyunjin groans and bites his lip. “You sure you’re ready to take me? I just got my fingers inside you. Haven’t even fucked you open on them yet.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, leaning down to press your bare chest into his. “Want you inside me so fucking bad, don't want to wait any longer.”

His fingers slip from your soaking cunt as you slot your lips over his, and he sighs when you slip your tongue into his mouth again.

When your hand goes reaching for his cock, he breaks away from the hungry kisses and pants, "Mm, Y/N, wait- We need a condom, yeah? I have some in my room…”

“I have some here.” You steal another quick kiss before drawing open your bedside table to grab one of the foil packets. A quick rip and tug and it’s out of the packaging so you can pinch the tip and roll it smoothly down his burning length.

“Last chance to turn back and not cross this line,” you declare.

“I think it would be even more awkward if we didn’t at this point. B-But it’s cool if you want to stop.”

He sounds nervous of what your answer may be, but you believe he means the words, and you appreciate the consideration all the same.

And you definitely feel sure. You definitely want this.

So you take hold of the base of his cock, line the broad tip up to your entrance, and begin to ease down.

The moment he breaches you, Hyunjin tenses and hisses a sharp breath through his teeth. His hands find purchase on your hips, too tight at first to brace himself against the wet heat you’re surrounding him in even through the condom, but then he eases up after he’s bottomed out.

You sit still once you’re flush against his lap, realizing you need to relish this particular moment because you won’t ever get it back - the ecstasy of feeling him stretch you out like this for the first time.

Hyunjin starts squirming after a bit, fingertips twitching from your hips down to your thighs and back again, unsure what to do with himself while he waits for you. “Baby, please, I think I might go crazy if you don’t move.”

“So impatient,” you tsk but begin to rock against him nonetheless. Careful, slow undulations of your waist to test the depths of the pleasure rippling through you. His breath hitches over a particular swivel, and you moan at the angles he’s hitting just from a little back and forth movement.

“Oh my god, you sound so hot,” Hyunjin praises. “And you feel like fucking heaven.”

“You feel so fucking good too, you feel amazing,” you gush back.

With an idea of how he could feel even better, you lift away from his lap just to sink down quickly. After a few repetitive drops, he reunites with that perfect spot inside you that has your toes curling inward and head tipping back in bliss.

Hyunjin groans along with you over the fast pace you’re picking up, and his hands finally settle for keeping a loose grip on your ass as the flesh of your thighs slaps against his hips with every plunge. Surely he can feel you starting to soak his lap; you can just hear how wet you are with every bounce. It’s sinfully vulgar but so fucking good.

“You’re so gorgeous, Y/N,” he rasps next. “I swear I could watch you bounce on my dick all fucking night.”

You look down just as he flicks his eyes up from your heaving chest to your face, then you grin at having caught what exactly he was finding so gorgeous about you bouncing on his dick. 

Hyunjin licks his lips and sits up to bring his face closer to yours. “So fucking gorgeous,” he repeats on your lips before pressing harder.

You lose concentration over riding him when your mind is on the way his tongue dances behind your teeth, so he helps you out by bucking his hips upward as best he can to keep the stimulation on your sweet spot.

“Hyunjin…” you whine when he pulls back.

“Tell me what to do to make you come, baby, please. Need to feel you come on my cock so fucking bad, I'll do anything.”

From the way he was acting earlier, you half expected Hyunjin’s cocky ass to taunt you with claims of how he can fuck you better than Jisung ever could, not plea for instructions.

It’s almost sweet.

“Fuck me from behind?” you request.

Hyunjin blinks twice, kisses you sloppily several times more, then helps ease you onto all fours in front of him. You spread your knees and lift your backside to present his target to him, but he has his eyes cast down toward your face while you get yourself comfortable.

“Just like this?” he checks once it seems you’re finished moving. One of his hands hints along the small of your back delicately, wanting to touch you but not hold you down.

“Like this,” you confirm.

He takes hold of his cock and presses the tip back to your drenched folds, slicking it up and down a few times before pushing into your hole. He doesn't stop until he's up to his balls. Your pussy accepts his reentry easily, though Hyunjin seems to feel differently.

“You’re so damn tight, Y/N, fuck. When was the last time you got dicked down?”

“That has nothing to do with- oh fuck-”

He gives a sensual roll of his hips while you’re trying to speak, and you lose your train of thought once more. Hyunjin smirks at your reaction and does it again, barely withdrawing before hitting at just the right depth to have you arching your back for more.

“Is that good, baby? Is this how you want me to fuck you?” he asks, starting to build a rhythm. He holds your hips to keep you steady, but there’s not much he can do about rocking the mattress; not if he wants to keep you moaning and dripping and shuddering the way you are.

“Y-yeah, yeah, keep going, I’m getting close,” you urge.

Hyunjin keeps his eyes fixed on the place where his cock plunges in and out of you, spreading your ass cheeks apart to give himself a better view. His balls smack wetly against your clit over and over, enhancing the vulgarity of the skin-on-skin noises ringing in your ears.

It isn't as much stimulation as you need, though, so you dip a hand between your legs to play with yourself, and Hyunjin can feel the instant you touch your clit from the way you suddenly clench around him. The extra tightness draws a grunt from the back of his throat and his hips jerk unsteadily.

He’s been careful to keep his thrusts under control, striking your g-spot repeatedly without brutally battering it, but you can tell he’s losing his composure, losing his breath, losing his head in the steam of your conjoined pleasure. He groans out and pounds into your pussy harder.

The headboard is outright banging against the wall by now. Some part of you wonders how noticeable it is from the rest of the apartment, but most of your concentration is on rubbing faster at your clit while Hyunjin keeps your g-spot on the end of his pistoning dick.

“Almost,” you promise vaguely, but Hyunjin knows exactly what you mean.

His hand meets yours between your legs to lightly knock it out of the way and take over. He uses the pad of his middle finger to pick up where you left off, and the sensation - the utter thrill - of being touched by him hurtles you that much faster toward the edge, even though he's not familiar with your preferred technique yet.

“Come with me, baby, please, I need to fucking feel it. Shit, I’m so fucking close, please come with me,” he begs and babbles breathlessly.

You put your fingers over his to guide him through a few more rotations around your clit. That, coupled with another series of perfectly aimed thrusts of his rigid cock, finally send you toppling into white hot, nerve-racking, spine-crumpling abyss. You climax with a mighty clench and a cry that rips from your vocal chords just before you can suffocate it in your pillow.

“Sh-shit Y/N! You’re seriously coming on my- oh, fffffuck!”

Hyunjin lets go of your clit in a rush to grab your hips with both hands again to brace himself against the onslaught of his own explosive orgasm. You can feel his cock lurch where he’s buried it deep in your clamped walls at the moment of his release. Wave after wave trembles his frame, sending him shivering behind you as his orgasm rolls on and on for so long you almost become concerned.

Eventually, he gives you a comforting squeeze and pants, “You didn’t… you didn’t fake that, did you?”

You can’t help but laugh in pure amusement. “What, my orgasm? No, that was definitely not fake. You made me come so hard, Hyunjin,” you admit shamelessly.

“Okay, just checking,” he laughs back. “It’s just that I couldn’t see your face and-... but it still felt really-... that was so… wow.”

You don’t have it in you to comment on his eloquence - or lack thereof, rather; you don’t exactly have words for what’s just happened either.

He draws his cock from your still-quivering pussy and gets up on wobbly legs to trash the condom in your adjoined bathroom while you slump to your side and swipe the back of your hand across your clammy forehead, swallowing hard to bring some normalcy back to your erratic breathing and thundering heart.

Hyunjin returns with a towel in hand. You wearily lift an arm to take it from him, but he’s already coaxing your legs open to dab carefully at the stickiness smeared between them.

“So sweet,” you joke, finding the energy to tease him after all.

He looks at you and smiles. “It’s cute that you think I’m being sweet when I’m actually just getting a better look at your pussy because I didn’t before.”

He spreads your lower lips apart with his fingers and raises an eyebrow in approval of their sticky, swollen state, to which you gasp in mock offense and swat at his arm. He snickers and drops the towel aside, then climbs back into bed with you.

“I can be sweet, though, if cuddling is an option.”

You open your arms to showcase cuddling is in fact an option, and he sinks his head into a cozy spot beneath your chin. The crown of his golden head smells like apricots, you notice. You gently tug off the elastic band in his hair and roll it onto your wrist before shaking out the freed strands. He hums drowsily as you play with his hair.

After a while, he murmurs, “I should probably go kick everyone out and apologize to Jisung before I fall asleep.”

Again, you giggle. “Shit, I should apologize to him, too. If he’s still out there, that is. If anyone’s still out there. We may have scared everyone off.” You strain your ears for a moment to try and pick up on any more laughter and chatter out there, but all you can hear is the music now.

“You were pretty loud, babe,” Hyunjin points out.

You dig your fingertip into his cheek playfully. “And I’m sure you’ll be bragging about that for weeks to come.”

“Me? Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Despite the plans he was making to get up and leave the room, Hyunjin draws his arms tighter around your middle and remains right where he is. A while longer passes before he asks softly, “Can I sleep here with you tonight, or would that be weird?”

“Hey.”

He tilts his head to look at you.

“Don’t overthink things,” you tell him, tucking some of his hair behind his ear. “I meant it when I said I wasn’t planning on this being a one-time thing, and I think you meant it when you said you didn’t want it to be either, but we can make this whatever we want. It doesn’t have to be complicated, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees.

Hyunjin leans his face in but hesitates when he notices that you don’t close your eyes in preparation for his kiss. You smile and pull him in the rest of the way, and he smiles back against you, eyes on yours.

When he pulls back, he licks his lips and says slowly, “So… I can sleep here with you tonight then?”

You laugh loudly and shove him away. “Go make sure everyone got the hell out of our apartment, then get your ass back here.”

---

if you enjoyed, please consider re-blogging and/or leaving me some feedback. take care! ♡

copyright © 2023 by daizymax. all rights reserved. back to masterlist

#hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #let loose #daizymax

[thankskenpenders]

Sonic Superstars!

Superstars is out! And guess what? It's good! It's a worthy new entry in the series, and I mostly like it. Mostly. Except for the handful of parts I don't. As usual, allow me to share my thoughts.

(For the record, I got the PS5 version of Superstars. I can't speak for how it plays on older hardware like the Switch, or how the weird Steam version that seems to make you log in with Epic runs. But I encountered zero performance issues, personally.)

General thoughts

The thing is, aside from two notable flaws I'll discuss in greater detail below, I can sum up my feelings on most of Superstars quickly. You see, it's... a Sonic game. This will either be a blessing or a curse depending on who you ask. It's not a bold new take on the series that'll blow you away, but they also didn't fuck it up. There's no catch this time! There's something refreshing about that straightforwardness, given how rare it is to get a regular-ass New Sonic Game from Sega. It's just a new classic-style game where you can play as Amy, set on a new island with all new zones, and Fang is in it! This might be damning with faint praise, but that's what it says on the tin, and they did a good job overall.

(It also has co-op. That's nice. I didn't play it in co-op.)

It plays exactly how it should. At no point did anything feel Wrong. The graphics might not have the absolute highest fidelity, but I think the character models look really nice, and the levels look appropriately good with vibrant color palettes. A couple zones like Sky Temple gave me Klonoa vibes, which I like. One zone is an absolutely incredible homage that I won't spoil. The story here is minimal (as expected), but there are a few good moments of telling the story through the gameplay, particularly one very cute sequence with Trip. I did find a couple stage gimmicks moderately annoying (Speed Jungle 2 and Press Factory 2, looking at you), but like... I could say the same thing about Mania, and also damn near every other Sonic game ever made. There's always That One Level. Superstars may not raise the series to new heights, but it generally executes well on the standard beats of the series. It's an easy recommendation for all fans of 2D Sonic.

Really, aside from the two big flaws (we'll get to them), this game's greatest crimes are simply not being quite as good as Mania, and also coming out the same week as the more creative and polished Super Mario Bros. Wonder. If we hadn't gotten Mania, I would easily be calling this my favorite 2D Sonic game since... what, the Advance trilogy 20 years ago? I like the Rush games, but if you asked me to replay one or the other, I might have a better time with Superstars. And, yes, it beats the hell out of Sonic 4. It's not even close. Anyone who says this game is exactly like Sonic 4 is just being a hater.

...I guess I would say that $60 is a bit steep for this, but you know it'll be on sale for a more appropriate $30-$40 in a few months. This isn't a Nintendo game we're talking about here.

Nice little tweaks

Superstars also features a number of welcome quality-of-life updates over Mania, bringing it more in line with the design ethos of modern platformers.

You have infinite lives! No more getting a game over on the final boss and having to redo the whole final zone - or, god forbid, the entire game

Time overs are gone! It'll warn you before you go over ten minutes, but I have no idea why because it doesn't kill you anymore

The game features a hub from which you can easily replay previous levels, rather than needing to beat the game or put in a cheat code to unlock the level select

This means you can easily go back and hunt for any special stage rings you missed. However, as a tradeoff, it seems like you can only get one Emerald per zone now, rather than being able to get Super Sonic by the end of the first or second zone

You can swap characters between levels! No more having to start a whole 'nother save file to play as Tails

And those characters even have optional little movement tutorial rooms available from the hub, which is great for new players who may not know about things like the Drop Dash

And, finally, checkpoints now feature arrows pointing in the direction you were supposed to be going, in case you forget upon respawning

Of course, while you might not be getting game overs, Superstars certainly compensated with some bosses that kicked my ass.

Bosses

Here's what I would consider notable flaw #1.

I have mixed feelings on the bosses in Superstars. I don't think many of them are poorly designed - in fact, a lot of them are good, and offer fun moments of spectacle. But for a 2D Sonic game, they're REALLY long and drawn out, and by the late game this was starting to get draining.

Bosses tend to be the type where you have to dodge their attack patterns for a while until you get the chance to hit them exactly once, MAYBE twice. A few bosses seem to have quicker options if you abuse your post-hit invulnerability or play as a character with a double jump, but many will either be completely invincible or run away to the background for long periods of time, making it impossible to damage them outside of the allotted windows. And even if it seems like you'll be able to get in a second hit, many bosses turn invincible and skip ahead to the next attack pattern as soon as they take the first hit. Again, most of these fights aren't BAD, but because of this behavior they sometimes take almost as long to beat as the entire levels preceding them. This didn't bother me much early in the game, but against the more challenging bosses towards the end that kept killing me several minutes into a long fight, it got tiring. The final boss of Story Mode probably took me like an hour.

While this certainly isn't an uncommon style of boss design, part of me suspects they did this for the sake of co-op players. For one, playing in co-op means that you don't necessarily have to start the entire fight over if one person dies, so I assume the length is less of an issue. But in particular, true classic-style Sonic bosses that you can just hit repeatedly with good timing would go down in a few seconds against a team of four players. Likewise, the swarm of clones from the "Avatar" Emerald power would probably obliterate every Genesis era boss with one button press. So I get why every boss needs all these invulnerability periods, but still. I at least wish they'd made some of those attack patterns shorter and given you more frequent opportunities to deal damage.

Emeralds and their powers

Speaking of the new Chaos Emerald powers: they're neat, I guess? They're fine. I didn't use them much. Actually, I kept forgetting I even had them - although the game will play a noise and show an icon in the corner of the screen to remind you any time you reach a spot where a specific power is useful. Avatar, the first power you get, is at least good for getting a couple free hits in on the trickier bosses. Yellow's ability to slow time is obviously good, but, again, I always forgot I even had it and made it through just fine without it. I was also pleased to realize that the swimming power is useful for the water levels and not just for climbing up waterfalls.

Oh, and the new grappling-based special stages kind of suck, but they're not the worst, and I'll at least give them credit for trying something new. (Motion Sickness Zone from Sonic 1 does return as a bonus minigame, but I only did it once lmao.)

Battle Mode

I haven't played Battle Mode. Couldn't tell you if it's good or not. It did, however, give us official designs for Metal Tails and Metal Amy after all these years, and also it let me make this:

...Okay, enough beating around the bush. Let's talk about the thing that REALLY drags down the experience.

The soundtrack...

(This lengthy section on the music will feature some light spoilers for things like zone names and themes.)

Now, don't get me wrong. There are some bangers in here that I've been listening to on loop. But this is one of the most inconsistent soundtracks I've ever heard, and I'm not sure I've ever played another game where the music has such a sharp dip in quality in the back half.

As anyone following this blog knows, prior to release I was a little obsessed with trying to gauge what the soundtrack would be like. "Jun Senoue" and "new Classic Sonic game" naturally evokes the memory of Sonic 4, but from the start we knew Tee Lopes was involved as well, and almost all of the music previewed before released leans more towards the sound of Sonic Mania than anything else. I was hopeful! I was excited! Jun deserved another chance at doing another classic Sonic OST, and Tee is one of my favorite game composers of all time between his Sonic material and other works like the TMNT: Shredder's Revenge OST. I frequently thought back to this Sonic 4 remix medley by Jun and Tee as a reminder that these two could really be the dream team, bringing out the best in each other's work.

Sure enough, the front half of the game is largely dominated by the Mania sound, whether it's a track by Tee himself or one by an in-house Sega artist that's compatible with his style. Pinball Carnival Act 1 by Rintaro Soma (an up-and-coming composer who wrote a bunch of the Cyber Space themes in Frontiers) takes obvious inspiration from Mania's Studiopolis Act 1, to the point that I was shocked when Sega posted the track and revealed it wasn't written by Tee. Act 2, however, forges more of its own sound by leaning into the act's spooky haunted carnival theme. And despite being the music lead, the only level theme that I know for sure was written by Senoue in the front half of the game (Bridge Island Act 1) was actually arranged by Tee Lopes to give it more of that Mania sound. Hell, the level clear jingle is literally just the one from Mania. A few level themes by other composers don't quite match that style, but they fit in well enough.

But there are early signs that this sound won't be consistent throughout the game. Our first warning of things to come is the boss music:

When early copies started floating around and the soundtrack leaked, many, many people hoped that this was merely a placeholder, like the literal Sonic 4 Episode II music used in the earliest previews of Speed Jungle, and that it'd get replaced with a day one patch. Oh, those poor, innocent fools...

Even if you don't mind the poor production with the returning Sonic 4 faux-Genesis sound, this is a very simplistic thirteen second snippet of music that then plays a second time in a higher key before it loops. This wouldn't be the end of the world if the bosses were as short as the ones in the Genesis games, of course, but they're not! This theme is used for a ton of lengthy fights throughout the game, including an EXTREMELY long and tedious autoscroller boss at the end of Golden Capital Act 2. Maybe I would've enjoyed the bosses in this game more if they were paired with some earworms that'd get me hyped up and sell how cool and exciting the fights are supposed to be, but grating songs like this just made the minutes spent fighting those bosses feel like an eternity.

Still, boss music (and menu music) aside, all of the level themes in the front half of the game ranged from decent to great, with the peak easily being the phenomenal Lagoon City Act 2 by Tee Lopes. And then... I got to the back half of the game. And the Mania style completely disappeared, replaced largely with the dreaded Sonic 4 sound. That isn't the style for EVERY song in the back half, but even the ones that try something different tend to be weaker than the material from the first six zones, with less engaging melodies and less intricate arrangement. Many sound straight up unfinished, leaning on extremely basic synth patches with no personality. And there isn't a single track from Tee in the back half. He just disappears from the project altogether.

What this means is that we go from this absolute banger by Tee Lopes in zone 6, which elevates what's otherwise a bog standard desert level to a thrilling adventure:

To... this, in zone 7:

It's EXTREMELY jarring!

The thing is, this is actually one of the better tracks in this style. I have to assume this is by Senoue, because you can totally hear a good Adventure or Heroes era Senoue track in there once you get past the crude synth replication of the Genesis era Sonic sound. Senoue is still a great composer, as you can hear clear as day with Bridge Island, but he's working with a restrictive sound palette that doesn't play to his strengths at all. If only he'd bust out that damn guitar, or at least pick some better synths.

(And no matter what people will tell you, no, this is not an accurate recreation of what the Genesis's YM2612 chip really sounded like, nor is it representative of what it CAN sound like at its best. Go back to the Streets of Rage 2 or Ristar soundtracks if you need a reminder.)

While I can at least see what the Press Factory tracks were aiming for, some other faux-FM synth tracks are just really bland. They don't have anything interesting going on, and they also don't seem particularly tailor made for the levels they accompany. They're just attempts to mimic what Sonic 1-3 sounded like on a very literal level. Take, for instance, the Golden Capital Act 1 theme, AKA "we've got Sky Sanctuary at home." While the better level themes in this game enhance the mood or even completely carry the vibes of a level, the weaker tracks can really suck all the air out of the room and make a level feel like more of a slog.

What kills me is that there are, in fact, a couple examples of how to do throwbacks to classic Sega FM synth music well on this very soundtrack! They're just not the Sonic 4 type tracks. I love the Frozen Base Act 2 theme, presumably composed by legendary Sega composer Hiroshi "HIRO" Kawaguchi, who's responsible for all-time classic arcade soundtracks like Fantasy Zone, Out Run, Hang-On, After Burner, and more, as well as the hacking and pinball themes from Frontiers. Maybe to an untrained ear this doesn't sound all that different, but it has a catchier tune, better instruments, and stronger production overall. I'm also a fan of the track for Sky Temple, which isn't perfect, but it blends a few Genesis-esque instruments like the Sonic 1+2 snare with other instruments for a richer sound. If the whole soundtrack sounded more like these examples, I'd definitely be complaining less.

I really just have to wonder... how did this happen? How did this end up being so inconsistent? Many fans on social media are jumping to the conclusion that Senoue is just extremely stubborn and refuses to ditch the style from Sonic 4. I can't deny this possibility, but some things just don't add up. The almost complete lack of "retro" style music in the promotional material. The fact that the style just suddenly shifts halfway through the game, then disappears for the final zone, as if that's not the note they want to end on. The complete lack of any tracks by Tee Lopes in the back half. The focus on the Mania-style tracks in the bonus "mini soundtrack." And most perplexing of all, the fact that three of the first tracks you hear in the game were Senoue compositions that were given extra attention with arrangements from Tee Lopes.

This is pure speculation on my part, but it almost seems like they straight up ran out of time.

Perhaps Jun wanted more of his tracks to get full arrangements from Tee, or for Tee to contribute more songs, but things were down to the wire and they chose to leave in some of the raw Sonic 4 style demos. The soundtrack being crunched out in a matter of months at the end of development would certainly explain why Speed Jungle had to be demoed without its music a mere four months ago. It'd also explain why a game that's only a few hours long needs NINETEEN composers listed in the credits. And also the fact that multiple zones just have completely different, unrelated music by different artists across their acts. Did they need multiple artists working on different acts simultaneously, completely independent from each other with no time to cross reference each others' work, due to extreme time constraints? I'd buy it.

Ah well. It's not the end of the world. I've heard worse Sonic music. But I'll always think of what could have been...

At least the final battle with Eggman at the end of Story Mode has a pretty kickass boss theme, which ALMOST makes up for how bad most of the preceding boss music is (and the fact that that very difficult fight doesn't have a checkpoint between phases and took me like an hour to beat lmao). It even seems like it might be written by longtime Phantasy Star Online composer and recurring Sonic contributor Hideaki Kobayashi. That's the guy who wrote NONAGRESSION!!!!!!!

The postgame

Speaking of beating Eggman! It turns out Superstars has a good deal of postgame content, as merely beating the last zone with all the Chaos Emeralds doesn't take you to the true final boss. In order to do that, you'll need to do something else.

Before we hit the big spoiler warning, I'm going to give any future players who are still reading a warning. If you value your sanity... don't force yourself to do all the postgame stuff. Don't make the mistakes I did. It's not worth it, and it may very well knock your personal score for the game down a couple points.

----------------------------------------------------------------

SPOILERS FOR THE STORY, UNLOCKABLES, AND THE POSTGAME BELOW THIS POINT

YOU'VE BEEN WARNED

----------------------------------------------------------------

The bonus scenario

Sonic Superstars has a big surprise in store for anyone who beats the main story. For the first time since... what, Silver? In 2006? We finally have a brand new playable character in a new Sonic platformer! (I wouldn't count the player avatar in Forces as a full-fledged New Character.) Yes, after the credits roll, you unlock Trip as the super-secret fifth playable character. I was really excited to see this. Trip is cute, even if her masked appearance from early in the game is perhaps a more unique design than a Sonic-ified lizard girl who can only vaguely look like a real sungazer lizard. She IS the first new Sonic character Ohshima has designed since the '90s, though, so she gets points for that - and she gets even more points for literally turning into a dragon when she goes Super. We love a girl who can turn into a dragon, don't we folks? And her playstyle is fun, too, with a double jump and the ability to roll along walls and ceilings.

But Trip isn't just playable. Like Knuckles before her, she gets an entire alternate story mode of her own, which somewhat remixes the level layouts, generally makes things more challenging, and swaps out Eggman for Egg Robo. I was so excited to see this! It really felt like the game had so much more in store for me than I'd anticipated.

...Then I spent probably around three hours attempting to beat the new final battle with Fang at the end of Trip's Story. And it made me regret doing Trip's Story at all.

Once you learn the patterns, a lot of them are actually piss easy. But the difficulty comes down to a few misguided factors:

The fight is LOOOONG. On a successful attempt the whole thing will probably take the average player about, like... seven or eight minutes? Maybe longer? This is where I really started to get pissed at the game for making me wait through these stupid attack patterns before I could attempt to hit the boss once.

The fight is divided between two phases, one with Fang in a vehicle and another with him in a giant robot, with no checkpoint between them. Dying to one of Fang's bullshit attacks on the second phase means having to redo the ~5 minute first phase all over again. And, worst of all...

Fang has multiple projectile attacks that are guaranteed instant kills, even if you have rings.

Also there's a stupid desperation headbutt attack that can really easily catch you off guard and kill you, but I only got that far in the fight once.

It's the instant kills that got me. If those fucking immobilizing net attacks just made you drop your rings, or you could at least wiggle out of them by mashing buttons (EDIT: apparently you CAN do this but you literally have to button mash so rapidly that it's a crapshoot whether or not you'll physically be able to do it), it would have been totally doable! Kinda fun, even! Slow, but pretty cool in terms of spectacle. But nope! Three hours! Three hours on this! This is, without a doubt, the hardest boss I have ever faced in any Sonic game, period, and one of the hardest bosses I've ever seen in ANY game. All because of one attack pattern where making a tiny mistake means starting over.

The glitches didn't help, either. Something about the way the circular boss arena was set up in both stories' final battles seems to make the floor intangible sometimes for non-player objects. Occasionally my dropped rings, enemies I was supposed to knock towards Fang, or one of Fang's insta-kill projectiles would just fall through the floor randomly. This definitely wasn't my main problem, but it helped drive home the idea that this fight just wasn't worth my time.

After three hours of attempts, I gave up. I just went and looked up the ending of Trip's story, as well as the contents of the Final Story, on YouTube. Turns out I made the right call, because boy, that true final boss looks like dogshit. It's just a very dull fight against a big generic cartoon dragon. Apparently this is the thing Eggman was looking for. It appears and is defeated with little fanfare. I think I liked it better when I assumed the scary dragon being foreshadowed was just Super Trip.

...Also, hey, what's up with The End being very conspicuously visible in the background of the last zone?? I know it's just a cheeky cameo, but, like... isn't it supposed to be sealed away in Cyber Space right now? Should I be taking this literally? Does this have lore implications? This is one hell of a way to remind people that the timeline's been reunified, I guess

Closing thoughts

I really hate to part ways with Superstars on a sour note like this, because like I said up top, I mostly enjoyed my time with it! It's really just a small handful of particularly frustrating bosses and the inconsistent soundtrack that drag it down. Other than that, it's solid as a rock. Maybe wait for sales if you're not dying to play it, but it's definitely worth playing for any Sonic fan. Just... skip the true ending. I would have stepped away MUCH happier with this game if I'd done that.

I wanna try to end this on a more positive note but I'm tired, so, uhhhh... look, you can unlock a Metal Nights skin for your Battle Mode bot!!

Anyway back to jamming to about half the soundtrack on loop while pretending the other half doesn't exist, and looking forward to the continued Fang Renaissance with his upcoming IDW miniseries

#tkp post #other media

[carlyraejepsans]

i feel like uty improves on things undertale did but it doesnt have the same strong foundation as the original. like all the qol tweaks and secret shit and meta flowey are all super impressive but as a whole i agree i didnt find it cohesive or consistent

eh, sorry but i don't really think UTY "improves" much of... anything from Undertale? you can make an argument for the visuals, which are more detailed and certainly better animated, but i would argue right back that undertale's rougher, retro, "kinda ugly" graphics are a deliberate design choice on Toby's part that he stuck to for a reason. not to mention, even in their ugliness, the original main cast managed to display more variety in shape language and size than the entire UTY one, which seemed unable to break past the "tall, skinny, anime proportioned humanoid" figure for anyone beyond the occasional side NPC (which, credit where it is due, DID have some really creative designs).

the secret shit is part of my critiques, actually! while conceptually cool, i don't think they appropriately distributed their story and lore at all. i feel like if we got to the end of the pacifist run and were wholly confused as to why dalv was even a character in the story, the whole "human attack" backstory was... not delivered properly. now, there's no problem with having secret lore, gaster is right there. but if you DO have it then it shouldn't be... yknow... tied to the main backstory conflict that literally set the story in motion? lol? it felt like a game with dataminers in mind, rather than players. which was unavoidably detrimental to its storytelling.

the bullet patterns and attack designs were very visually creative but what they improved from the original in their cleverness they tanked with their execution. WAYYY too unfair, counting too much on memorization and giving you no time to accustom yourself to the mechanics (shout-out to the gun tutorial that... didn't teach us how to shoot. at all. we figured it out on our own in the axis fight LMFAO)

the meta flowey stuff was a fun idea that only really delivered in the neutral run and didn't amount to enough anywhere else to justify his presence in the game imo. like, i lost my shit during his fight too, don't get me wrong, i like when fan stories let him be a little FREAK. but everything else was just so... wasted? i almost didn't see the neutral ending at all because the way pacifist handled flowey disappointed me so much.

uhhhhh running was a good addition and the music fucked hard. can't say anything against those two, nossir. not sure it'd go so far as to call them improvements tho, just nice touches

#answered asks #biscia hater moment #< not exactly hating here this is straight up critique. just for ppl to filter out negative opinions #au tag

[anonymooseforever007]

Romantic Escape

(Tommy Shelby x female reader)

Summary- After being confined to Arrow House for a week because of a small concussion, Y/N is determined to get out. But considering how overprotective Tommy's been recently she'll have to be smart if she'd to make it. To trick Thomas Shelby is a feat many enemies have tried but few have succeeded. But then again, not many of his enemies have the advantage of knowing him the way his wife does...

Or at least they're scared to get that close....

A/N: Hi y'all! No specific TW's for this one other than usual Peaky Violence, Language, and implications of smut (but non actually happens). There is one mention of a past attack but nothing's graphic. Also this was going to be one part, but then I didn't like how the breakup between scenes flowed, so there is a second part going to be posted in a few days probably! Anyways I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️ WC- 3.0k

Romantic Capture (Part 2)

Main Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a week and a half since the bad accident occurred. 

Well, your husband called it a bad accident. 

You called it "being a imbecile who'd gotten so distracted trying nicely draw a baby chipmunk out of the house she didn't realize the stairs ended two steps ago."

But in fairness, every other idea for the poor thing your beloved family suggested involved guns or stew. Besides, Thomas Shelby wasn't about to let even his wife herself, label his darling love as a common 'imbecile'....so 'bad accident' it was. 

Truth be told you didn't even think it should be labeled as such. Sure you were dizzy for the first two days, but you only almost passed out when you stood up once. AND there wasn't any blood so you didn't even need to go to a hospital. Polly was insistent it was a mild concussion and a couple days rest would be all you needed. But your husband thought otherwise, and here you were days later, still confined to the premises. 

You'd laughed at the irony of it. Your husband, who once decided to medicate a cracked skull with cocaine, practically ordering you to stay in bed. The hypocrite. Thomas Shelby was an undoubtedly smart man, but when it came to medicinal advice, he should probably have been the last one giving suggestions. 

In the beginning, you could understand why he was worried. Yes, technically you had been "shot" a few months ago, by a rather rude man trying to prove he was more dangerous than your husband. Truthfully, you'd had sewing accidents that bled more. One time when you were 15, you had accidentally sliced the side tip of your left pointer finger off using a pair of scissors. But luckily you father had been a doctor and was able to fix it up at the house with ease. If held up straight though, it did still look like the tip of that finger was slightly crooked, but that's another story. But the man who'd shot you must have been drunk, because even your blind uncle had better aim than him, and all you were left with was a small nick on your shoulder and a small tear in your dress. Yes, it was still terrifying, and both you and you husband still woke up some nights, hearts beating fast with the thoughts of what would have happened if he had better aim. But in the end you were, for lack of better term, just fine. 

That didn't stop your husband from worrying more though. It seemed the incident had flipped a switch in him, often shared by new mothers or teachers, who tended to be hyperaware of everything that could go wrong for their young steeds. For weeks after, Tommy had been on high alert, not even letting you go out with Polly alone, and everyone knew she could handle anyone just fine. Though maybe there were some good points to his overprotectiveness.

For about a month after, Tommy had decided to work from his home office so he could be closer to you just incase. This meant he didn't have to drive over half an hour to the office every day and could spend more time in bed with you in the mornings, something neither of you complained about. Then you spent many of those days in his office with him, working on your own projects or trying to convince him to let you play boss for the day. That idea was a quick no, but it didn't stop you from stealing his coat, sitting in his chair and, pretending to bark out orders to invisible blinders while he went to the bathroom. Nor did it stop Alfred Solomons from laughing like an hyena the time he had called right as you picked up the phone. You still weren't over knowing he heard you (as Tom) threaten to "make a pie out of the testicles out of whatever coward dared feed the horses Scottish hay instead of Irish!".... Luckily it hadn't been the time when him and "Tommy" were planning how to hide their secret affair. 

In the end, Tommy had eventually gone back to working at the office and only the maids were left to witness your "brilliant" impressions. Soon life went back to its usual order... atleast until you'd gotten hurt again. 

At first you thought it would be fun like before, and that you could spend time trying to convince Tommy he'd had better things to do than sign papers all day. Namely you. But unfortunately, it seemed your husband decided that your injuries weren't serious enough to warrant the both of you a bed rest this time. And truthfully, you also didn't mind that too much either. You adored your husband and loved spending time with him, but that didn't mean you didn't have plans that not involving him. Most days were spend either helping the maids around the house, planning the next gala with Lizzie, or going out with your own small friend group. You had plenty of things to do without him. 

That was until you realized for some reason, the things you wanted to do weren't able to be done. For starters, you had a suspicion all the maids and been ordered to politely decline your offers to help with anything, even laundry. They'd simply smile at you and let you know you didn't have to worry about it, before offering to make some tea so you could rest your head. Then it appeared that both of you and Tommy's spare cars were in the shop for "repairs" meaning you'd have no way to out to meet your friends. Yes, they could come over, but still not all your friends were lucky enough to have cars and you were often the one driving everyone around. Not even Esme or Polly were able to come over, as Polly had gone to take care of a sick Ada in London, and half of Esme's lot had their own mini cases of colds. Even Finn who lived with you and Tommy, had gone with Isaiah, Curly, and Uncle Charlie to Wales for the week to bring home the new horse Tommy bought last month. After a week stuck at home it was getting old, and you wanted out.

So you decided to hatch a plan. And because you had a sneaking suspicion he started it, you had a good idea who your unwitting accomplice was going to be....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was now 6:34 and you had made plans to meet Lizzie at a silent film at 8:15. Though some may not have expected it, you got on quite well with your husband's secretary, and the pair of you could often be found going out to lunch on days when Tommy was particularly stubborn, or having tea with the other Shelby women on the weekends, laughing over whatever foolish thing you'd seen that week. It also didn't hurt that your sweet older brother had shown an undeniable interest in Lizzie, which seemed to be reciprocated anytime they'd meet at a Shelby party. You smiled remembering how many questions he'd asked about her after she'd left the night they'd met, or the grin on her face when he'd "run into" the pair of you on the way back from lunch one day and offered her a flower from a bouquet for your mother. What a wonderful coincidence of course, that your mother and Lizzie had the same favorite flower. So it wasn't an unusually occurrence for you to be seeing her, though you had a feeling if you tried to tell your husband, the last car might just happen to be out of gas. Eventually, you simply decided not to tell him and now all you needed was a way to get there...

And at 6:46 that way came rolling up the gravel as your husband finally returned in the only "working" car left. Standing on the front steps with a glass of whiskey in one hand and a blanket over your shoulders, you waited until your husband had stepped out of the car.

"TOMMY!"

Running up to the man, you smiled wide, quickly embraced him, greeting him with a passionate kiss leaving you both warm. Then you handed him the whiskey, letting him hold his briefcase in the other hand.

"Now, I'm not complaining Love, but can I ask what new trinket I bought today, that deserves this kind of welcome?" Tommy inquired cheekily, bending his ear closer to yours as you lead him inside by his tie. 

He knew very well you loved him, and he absolutely loved you, but usually when he came home you were waiting in the living room or helping in the house somewhere. It had become a small game of y'all's too. If he managed to find you before dinner he'd get some kisses and some praises about how fast he'd found you, "your smart love" he was. If he didn't see you until dinner he'd still get kisses but it just wasn't the same. 

You'd never tell him your dogs played the same game when learning to play fetch. He didn't need to know that. 

Besides, it was all in good fun, and an easy way to try and get him home earlier. He could always work after dinner, but one thing you'd practically demanded the night you'd gotten married was that he was always home in time for the last meal of the day. And for the last two years he'd actually kept his promise, except for the days he was out of town on business. Even then you'd convinced him to have what you called "telly dinners". You'd sit by the telephone with your dinner plate on your lap and tell him about your day. While miles away he'd be listening, happy to hear your voice after being with Alfie all day. Hell, one time you'd even gotten impatient waiting for the call and inadvertently interrupted a meeting. You'd ended up having a lovely conversation with the other gangster himself about how his dog was doing, while your husband mumbled about "fucking betrayal on both ends." He didn't really mean it, but he'd always find something just plain odd about the friendship between you and the gruff man. If was as if the two most opposite ends of his world would come together sometimes and try to take a few more years off his life. But if being friends with Alfie made you happy then he'd likely have to deal with him forever. Or at least until he found a way to make the murder look like an accident....

"Can't a wife just be happy her husband's returned home? I missed you."

"And I missed you every second I was away." One thing about Tommy was that he could be quite romantic when he wanted to. And even if he did bottle up his feelings too often, he still had a sweet talk like no other. "But I seem to remember my lovely wife being slightly irritated with me this morning. Something about keeping her in a cage," Tommy rebutted thinking about the small argument you'd both had this morning. 

Yes, he did know that he probably should let up a little on the overprotective precautions he's set up these last few days under the guise of letting you rest. But what he'd not yet told you, is the same day you'd gotten hurt, another enemy had made a threat on your life. And then getting a call, not even an hour later, from Frances about your concussion had thrown him in to a small panic, remembering the last time he'd almost lost you. So he'd taken his chances and used your minor injury as a way to keep you at the house for a few days while he had the man delt with. He knew he should have just told you from the start, but then coming home and seeing you curled up in the master bed, asleep in one of his shirts with a melted ice pack by your pillow, he'd decided to wait. It wasn't until today he'd finally had confirmation the danger was over and he could be sure you were safe. Maybe if your head really was better, he could take you out to dinner to celebrate.... Hopefully that would also soften the inevitable lecture he'd receive upon you learning the truth.

"Well yes I did say that, but I've had time to think, and as long as you promise to make it up to me later tonight, I'll forgive you," you replied coyly, lips brushing his as your words left no room for confusion on exactly how he'd have to make it up to you. "And besides," you said stepping back from him in the front hall, nudging his arm slightly so he'd drink the whiskey, "My head really is feeling better now, so maybe tomorrow we can go out to dinner too. I've been at the house all week you know?"

Tommy drank the whiskey and smirked, spreading his arms open wide as playful show, "With an offer like that how can I refuse, eh love? You want a real romantic escape from this place huh?"

You laughed, before pulling him close again wrapping your arms around him tightly, not giving him the chance to set down his briefcase or the empty glass. After all, if his hands were full, how could he stop you from digging your hands into his coat pockets during the embrace. Loving kisses on his face and neck helped distract him from your less than honest intentions. Well, partially less than honest... you still did fully intend for him to make it all up to you, especially with the small noises beginning to come from his throat as you kissed the small spot beneath his neck he loved. BUT that would happen only late tonight after the movie and maybe a few drinks with Lizzie. 

Quickly but efficiently, you moved a hand under the blanket you'd wrapped yourself in outside, to muffle the noise and pulled back from him again. But this time, Tommy has plans of his own.

"In fact," he said slowly backing you up to the nearest wall, finally putting his case and glass on a nearby table and taking the blanket from your hands. You hopped he hadn't noticed the slight jingle it made when he threw it to a nearby chair. "Why don't we start now," he whispered, beginning to leave light kisses on your neck, "I do have a lot to make up for after all. Telling the maids not to let you help at all, and then I had the cars brought to the shop so you couldn't leave incase you almost passed out again." If he hadn't been kissing your own sweet spot right now you might have pinched his ear and began to lecture him on just that. Letting out one soft moan, you ducked your head to press his lips against yours once again. You pulled him closer and grabbed his tie, taking control of the kiss again.

"Nope Tommy Love, I'm sorry but that can't happen just yet."

Hearing those words your husband frowned as he was the one to pull back lightly this time. 

"Why? Does your head hurt? I can get something if you need it," he asked concerned. Maybe the fall was more serious than Polly said if it was still bad a week and a half later.

"No love, my head's just fine Tommy, but I got a call from Polly earlier, saying there were some papers you needed to get done by 11:00 tonight. They were the ones you neglected when I surprised you for lunch last week and got knocked off the desk," you cooed at him, running your finger down his chest slowly to remind him exactly what kind of lunch it was. Plus, if he got too worried about your head again he may not let you out of his sight, and your plans would be ruined. It was 7:00 now and you'd need to leave soon. "She said they were very important and you really need to finish them. Therefore, I insist that you immediately go to your office and get them finished. And finished properly too, don't just rush it to make time for me."

"Love you know I'd never rush with you,"  and you have a small snort at the truth in those words. "Besides, I guess you do make a point and we wouldn't want to anger my aunt would we," Tommy chucked, knowing at least six things he'd said today to piss his aunt off.

"Exactly, so why don't you go to your office and close the door. I don't want to see you until at least 10:30 Mr. and don't forget to double check spelling. Those papers better be fit for a queen because that's exactly what your aunt deserves," you commented, lightly pushing Tommy towards his office. You had him now. So close!

Tommy smiled lightly and leaned over to grab the blanket from the chair, intending to bring it back in his office where it came from. Shit.

"Eh eh eh," you scolded lightly, stepping in front of the chair and grabbing Tom's wrist lightly right before he could pull it up. "I'm not done with that," you took the blanket from the chair yourself and bundled it to your chest, "You. Office. Now. And remember," you pulled close to Tommy one final time, "after 10:30 when you're done with your work, come and find me. And Tommy?" you teased, teeth lightly biting his ear lobe drawing a small groan from him as his eyes closed, "Tommy I did do some gardening today. Why don't you start by looking places where one can get a little less," you lightly kissed his other earlobe, "dirty? Maybe the bath will still be warm..."

Tommy cursed lightly as you placed one final, deep kiss to his lips before pushing back and sending him on his way. You were still in the front hall when he looked back over his shoulder, waving happily to him. And he was none the wiser that underneath the blanket was your other hand....gripping tightly to his car keys.

Romantic Capture (Part 2)

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby #Peaky Blinders

[tiredmoonslut]

I just finished S1 of Heartstopper and dare I say it....dare I say it....

I'm gonna say it. This is the sweetest piece of queer media I've ever seen. I'm sure there's more out there, but by god I am floored. Alice Oseman, can I please give you a hug?

I've never seen a show weave so deftly between my expectations. I expected a cute love story, and I got it. But what I did not expect was for the story to be so...graceful.

I'll be honest, at first glance I had low expectations for this show. The growth of queer media since the release of Love, Simon (especially MLM media) is a fantastic thing, and I'm so happy it's happening, but part of becoming mainstream is that a lot of mediocrity will come to fill the gaps. Having no prior awareness that Heartstopper was a comic series (my bad), I'd shallowly judged it as such.

Holy fuck was I wrong oh my fucking god

This show is a gift. And what makes it amazing is, as I said, how gracefully executed it is.

This show writes itself. Two teens meet-cute and have a sweet forbidden love. We all know how that goes. We even know how the gay version of that goes. But Heartstopper? It said "we see you, and raise you this". It is two teens meet-cuting and having a sweet forbidden love. But the show takes one look at all the potential tropes inherent there, and says, "nah".

Case in point. Nick. Fucking. Nelson. You are a national treasure, and I will thank Alice Oseman eternally for bringing you to me, you sweet, sweet boy. Nick's story could have been very traditional, as far as gay stories go. Masc athlete discovers he likes guys and has a crisis. Cue the internalized disgust, angry outbursts, emotional victimization, and relationship toxicity, followed by a hasty resolution that "fixes" the relationship and offers only a mildly satisfying conclusion. But what Heartstopper did so, so beautifully, is make Nick Nelson kind.

It sounds so bare minimum when viewed that way, but that is the problem. Too often in queer stories, it is either A) about the suffering of being queer, or B) about the aftermath of the suffering. Neither is uplifting, optimistic, or even nice to see represented, all the time. We've all lived it. Seeing it told so callously on a screen isn't vindicating. It's rude. Nick Nelson flies in the face of that phenomenon, simply by being kind. He is a masculine athlete who finds out he likes guys and has a bit of a crisis. But he never lashes out at Charlie, never scoffs and says "I'm not gay!", never shouts Charlie down or shames him.

From moment ONE, Nick is completely self-aware. He knows his own confusion could do harm to Charlie, so he doesn't make it Charlie's responsibility. He's proactive. He talks to people. He gets honest with himself. Soul-searches. Opens up to his feelings. Why? Because he wants to be happy, and because he is committed to kindness.

Highlighting that turned Heartstopper from a predictable gay love story into something life-giving, and warm, and adorable, and so unapologetically queer. This was underscored by Elle's storylines. Seeing a black trans girl like myself fit so perfectly into the main cast of characters and be treated with the utmost respect the entire time added years to my lifespan. Seeing an interracial lesbian couple navigate their relationship with such grace was beautiful.

And seeing all of those unique perspectives blend so easily into a unified, unapologetically queer friend group was so accurate to my own experiences as a queer individual that I found myself tearing up as I watched. This is the gooey, dramatic, teeny-bopper queer love story every queer kid deserves to be able to watch, and I literally cannot wait to get my hands on the graphic novels and the next two seasons of the show. I love it so much.

#okay I'm shutting up now #I just am so happy #heartstopper #nick nelson #charlie spring #narlie #heartstopper netflix #joe locke #kit connor #alice oseman

[eetherealgoddess]

ꨄFavorite Professorꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere College Au

❦Never give a low score to a delinquent❦

Sanzu Haruchiyo & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread!

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

Japanese language is red

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There will be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Favorite Professor

Y/n meets the stoic gaze that doesn’t match the hostile aura of the male standing at her desk.

“What is this?” Her student known as Haitani Rindo asks, shoving his phone in her face as she eyes the screen. She leans over her desk as she crosses her legs, interlocking her hands.

“Ah yes, your midterm exam? I’ve actually wanted to talk to you about your dropping score, Mr. Haitani. I’m concerned as you used to be one of the highest graded students along with your friend Mr. Akashi. What happened?”

“What do you mean what happened? Obviously, your grading skills are lacking.” He states calmly. Her eyes widen slightly at the deflection before returning to her normal gaze out of professionalism.

“I assure you that my years of schooling and even being accepted in this profession was not in vain. It’s not my place to say, but usually when situations like this occur, there’s a distraction going on outside of the classroom.” She responds, only for him to glare at her before crossing his arms. She sighs.

“Mr. Haitani, the only thing you can do is try to achieve a higher grade with the assignments and final. I also have extra credit discussion boards posted online for your submission.”

He only narrows his eyes at her before walking away from the desk, the chill in her spine leaving along with the energy that follows him. She breathes out a sigh before returning to her laptop, completing her work.

Rin walks side by side with his brother and Sanzu as they head to the cafeteria.

“Didn’t go well?.” Ran chuckles as he observes his brother’s body language. He ignores him as they walk through the doors, irritation engulfing him as he thinks about the professor’s words.

“Wanna do something about it?” Sanzu smirks. The younger Haitani side glances at his friend, giving a thought to what those words could mean.

The next day, Y/n sits at her desk that morning, eyeing her screen as she types on the keyboard. She halts her movements as she sees the younger Haitani walking in with a coffee cup in hand.

“Hello, Professor. I wanted to apologize for my outburst yesterday. I was disappointed with the grade and took it out on you. Please accept this coffee as my gratitude for your leniency on my actions.” He says with a sincere look as he hands her the coffee. Her eyes widen at the gesture as she takes the coffee.

“Thank you for that, Mr. Haitani. That’s very mature of you.” She responds smiling as she sips from the cup. He nods, a smirk forming as he sits in his seat, to her confusion though she ignores it and minds her business.

Thirty minutes later, she finishes the coffee, eyeing the clock and seeing that she has an hour and a half before she lectures her first class. She’s usually at the university about two to three hours before to create her lectures and make sure everything is set in place for her classes, which is why the coffee was a nice surprise. His presence wasn’t so bad besides the chilling feeling of eyes observing her, but thats probably just her imagination.

A few minutes passed and sweat began to form as she started breathing heavily. A heated feeling builds in her core as her body begins to tingle. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as her body tenses. Wetness forms as she squeezes her legs together, her clit gaining a heartbeat as her nipples harden. Her hands start trembling as anxious thoughts take over.

What’s going on? What’s happening to me?

“How was your coffee, Professor?” Rin smirks as he walks from his seat, two of her students walking in to the room before they stand in front of her desk, one holding a baton.

“What is this? What did you do to me?” She questions with shaky words.

Before anything else is said, Sanzu sits at one of the seats in the auditorium closest to her desk as he props the phone up, yet doesn’t hit record until it’s the correct time.

Ran walks behind her desk, swinging her over his shoulder as Rin shoves everything off of her desk. She hits Ran’s back as she kicks her feet, growling curses as she’s suddenly dropped on the desk resulting in pain for her bottom and backside.

Both men force her on her stomach as her feet hit the ground.

“We should’ve drugged her with more than the aphrodisiac.” Sanzu states as he crosses a leg, his face in his palms as his elbows meet the table.

“We need her awake for this to work.” Ran responds, lazily smiling as he pulls her skirt up, showing her panties. She gasps as she attempts to break free from Rin’s hold on her back and wrists.

“If you keep struggling, we’ll have to knock you out for a bit. Do you want that?” Rin asks, smirking at her distressed state. She shakes her head as she attempts to relax her shaking body.

“Th-this! Whatever this is, it’s not okay! The dean…!”

She screams as a painful sensation forms after a smacking sound. She turns her head back to see what landed on her ass to cause so much agony. Her eyes widen when she sees Ran pulling back the baton before slamming it against her bottom once more, resulting in another shriek. Rin removes her sweater as he balls it up and shoves it into her mouth. Tears fell from her eyes as she could feel the throbbing skin bruising. He crouches to meet her face to face, smiling as he licks his lips.

“Now, Y/n. You should be thanking Sanzu because that stimulant is going to help us make this a lot easier for you.” Her eyes shut as another yelp leaves her lips, muffled by the cloth as the baton meets her aching ass again.

“Look at him and say thank you.” He grabs her head, turning it to face the smirking pink haired man who waves back. She doesn’t respond, too humiliated to comply. Another smack from the object causes her to grunt as more tears fall from the pain.

“Thank you!” She muffled before her head was turned back to the Haitani.

“This is how it’s gonna go. We’re going to take this video of you, then so you don’t get caught seducing us, you’re going to fix my grade. If not, then kiss this job and your reputation goodbye.”

She stares at him wide eyed, disbelief from the cruel behavior he’s revealing. He stands from his position, unbuckling his pants as he reveals his erection. He pulls the sweater out of her mouth and motions for her to begin. Ran pulls her panties to the side, having already pulled his girth out, readying it to her entrance. Her legs clench, conflicting emotions occurring as arousal prowls yet the situation at hand being unfortunate for her job title.

“Time is ticking, Professor.” Sanzu taunts as he presses the record button. Reluctantly she opens her mouth as Rin eases in until her lips reach his base, gagging slightly as he adjusts. Ran pushes in, shoving his erection all the way to the base. He grabs her hips as Rin holds her head, beginning to throat fuck her as saliva drips from her mouth, mixing in with the precum.

“I always knew, since the first time you walked in, you’d be good at nothing but taking dick. You suck at grading.” Deciding that they can edit whatever they want out later, he taunts her, grunting as he accelerates his hips, thrusting hard as his tip hits the back of her throat each time, her eyes squeezed shut. His blonde hair flipping against his neck as he moves.

She releases a moan she was holding back as Ran moves faster against her backside, skin smacking skin as his cock hits her cervix. The shame in enabling the behavior hitting her as she cries out once more, the aphrodisiac causing her to feel weighed down by the pleasure, her legs clenching as the front of her body aches from her position over the desk.

“Wow Professor, you're really sucking me in. Is this what you wanted? To take advantage of your students?” Ran chuckles as he continues his assault, breathing heavily as well as a few moans slipping.

Sanzu, with the phone still recording in his hand, walks closer to get a better angle of the view, biting his lip as he ignores the tightness in his pants. Observing the distressed yet aroused woman as her body rocks from the contact with the younger men. He’s already gotten enough footage to show the dean if needed, but he decided to continue recording for their own personal endeavors.

“You look like you were made for this.” He states, as he watches her mouth engulfed with cock and saliva mixed with semen, her pussy full and thighs shaking as Ran squeezes her hips.

“I’m gonna cum.” Rin hissed as he thrusts harder, releasing after the last two. Ran follows not long after as he pressed against her g-spot, the pressure causing her to come undone all over his cock. Finally, Sanzu ends the video as they all get up, leaving her on the desk.

“You better get ready for your class, Y/n.” Sanzu says before they readjust their pants and walk out. Ran stops before he leaves, turning to face her.

“Change my grade while you’re at it, yeah?” He then walks out. She lays there breathing hard as she slowly pushes herself off the desk, tears falling as she begins to sob.

“Fuck.” She whispers as she throws her sweater on and pulls down her skirt, walking to the bathroom to fix herself up and leave the building.

When she’s done washing her face and wiping down her legs, she walks to the teacher’s lounge, claiming to be sick and having thrown up so she can be excused for the day. Succeeding she reaches her car, immediately going on the grading system’s site through her phone and changing both of the Haitani’s grades without having to touch Sanzu’s considering his already high score. Her forehead leans against the wheel as she stares numbly into space, pulling back as she moves her gear shift stick to reverse out of the parking lot and head to her apartment.

After a few days of staying home, she decides to resign, too sick from the memories of the dreadful event that took place. She hides herself from the world as she scrubs her body till it's raw routinely, disgusted with herself as she stays in her room. Suddenly, she’s torn from her thoughts as she hears a knock at her door.

She walks from her bed and opens the door. She gasps before attempting to slam it back closed, a hand preventing it from shutting.

“You thought you could just leave?” The younger Haitani hissed as he stepped into her home, his older brother and friend walking in as well.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” She exclaims, angry at the audacity. Sanzu shuts and locks the door behind them as Ran shoves his hands into his pockets, staring amused at the reaction she’s giving.

“What do you want?” She growls as she moves, backing away from them while they glare at her like a predator stares at its prey.

“You’re not quitting.” He states.

“How is any of that your business? Get out! Matter of fact, how the hell did you find my apartment?”

“Not until you agree to get your job back. Tell them you made a mistake.”

“This literally makes no fucking sense! What is wrong with you? I changed your score, what is the problem now?”

“The problem is that you’re trying to run. When you were bent over that desk, you were claimed as our slut. You can’t go anywhere.” Sanzu responds with a stoic expression, her disbelieving how serious they’re being at the moment.

“What the fuck are you talking about? What, so you got a crush or something? News flash, I’m nobody’s. You got that video and you got what you wanted so get out of my house.” She responds angrily, crossing her arms as she grits her teeth.

“That’s alright, you look like you were made to be a star anyway.” Ran states as he smirks. She glares in response.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t play dumb Professor, I know you’re smarter than that.” Sanzu says, rolling his eyes as he takes a seat on her couch.

“Hey, get off of that you’re not welcomed here!” She turns to glare at all of them. “None of you are!”

“As I said, it’s alright.” Ran says as he holds up the phone, screen facing her as he posts it to a porn website. She cries out as she runs to grab it, failing as he steps out of the way.

“I think social media would respond great if we post it there.” Sanzu says as he leans back, crossing his leg.

“No! Stop! F-fucking…! Please, don’t do that and just delete it off of there.” She almost sobs as horrific scenarios of her family, friends, or anyone else she knows reacting to the video, including the dreadful thought of future jobs or even her old job completely shut off from her being able to apply.

“Go back to work, Y/n.” Rin says as he leans on the counter connected to the same wall as the door.

“F-fine, just please… Please delete that and don’t post anything else.” They glance at each other, Sanzu hopping from the couch as he walks over to her, hand placed on her head as he gives a peck to her forehead. She eyes them in fear and disgust as they stroll to the front door.

“We’ll be seeing you more often, professor. So, be prepared.” Rin says as he faces the doorway, exiting the building as the door slams shut.

#yandere x reader #yandere #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x reader #bonten trio #sanzu haruchiyo #ran haitani #rin haitani #sanzu x reader #rin x reader #ran x reader #professor au #college au #yandere tokyo revengers

[thebigsl33p]

Last Words of A Shooting Star (Part One)

A/N: this is the longest fic I've ever written, and this is only part one. A lot of love has gone into this, I'm super excited to share it! If there any mistakes or stuff please let me know. Uh, Aleksander's kinda OOC bcs it's early days and I'm not traumatising him yet but I am gonna make everyone so miserable in Part Two, I promise, and then he'll become a mardy bastard. Masterlist will be up with the second part, and my main will be updated.

Main Masterlist

people I thought might appreciate being tagged: (If not, sorry!!!):

@augustwithquills @myanmy @noortsshift @archangelslollipop @vaguekayla @budugu @inlovewithfictionalmen444 @weallhaveadestiny @dreamlandcreations @bookloverfilmoholic @lost-tothe-centuries

Warnings: Violence - murder, not too graphic, I don't think. I think that's all, if not please let me know. tbf, canon level I think but maybe I'm delusional

Word Count: 8260

Fic Playlist:

Aleksander has always had a fascination with the night sky. He can’t help it. It’s the darkness, he thinks, it runs in his blood and makes up his flesh, how couldn’t he be absolutely enamoured with it? 

Maybe it’s because it was the only constant. 

So much of his childhood, his years as a teenager and as a young adult were spent travelling, creating new identities, learning new landscapes, new faces, new names, new buildings, all of which would disappear and be replaced every two weeks. And sure, the daytime was nice with the sun and all. But it wasn’t as peaceful, didn’t bring him that same tranquillity as when he would lay down in a field, gaze up and try to name all the constellations, find new shapes and make up new stories. 

Perhaps it all changed due to the incident at the Grisha camp. He had loved sunlight, the dark had scared him. But now, something was different - that air of peace was replaced by a penchant for the tenebrosity that the night brought with it, and a love for the small lights which decorated the dusk. 

No matter where he went, whether he was North, East, South, or West, the night-sky was the same. Always that deep monumental blue speckled with little dots - little lights, little moons, little stories - which people like him called Stars. There was nothing quite like laying in a field, feeling the cool summer breeze or the biting winter gusts and knowing that you were so small, so insignificant compared to everything that burned up in the cosmos. 

He was young then. Young and naive. And it was before her.

Looking back on it, Aleksander should’ve known better. Hadn’t the incident at the Grisha Camp taught him that? Wasn’t it what his mother drilled into him constantly? Trust no one. Never show your abilities. Touch no one. He was, politely put, a fool. 

He was a young man when his life changed, for the better and for the worse. It’s hard to remember exactly, but he believes he was around nineteen, and he remembers it was a hot summer’s evening. The day had been spent working. He couldn’t have known then, but that ‘work’ was the beginnings of The Little Palace. But back then, it was him being - as his mother would put it - foolish, and helping other Grisha travel across Ravka. They were hard to find, and even harder to trust, but gradually, slowly yet surely, he was building a good network.

But during the nights, just for a little while he could let that go. He could lay in the tall grass, head tipped towards the dark vast sky and he could stare up at the stars and pretend he was normal, that shadows weren’t absentmindedly curling around his fingers.

For some reason he struggles to remember memories before that time. They’re blurry and vague, little snippets and days that he’s lost with his extended age. But that particular night, he remembers it vividly - his long hair brushing his cheek in the wind, the hard dirt under his head, the hum of nature and bugs, the bustle of a town not so far away carried on the wind, and the stars. They were the brightest he’d ever seen them, almost restless, buzzing in their eternal placeholders. Something, he could feel, was wrong.

The image of the star falling to Earth is eternally seared into his memory.

It appeared faster than he could comprehend - one second it wasn’t there, and then one second it was. He sits up on his elbows, completely transfixed and stunned by, what he at first presumes, is a shooting star. But gradually, he realises it’s getting bigger, faster… closer.

This burning bright ball of cream yellow light, tumbling through time and space and existence, tumbling towards him. Sitting there in the field, stunned by the sight, he’s sure he can hear it fizzling and crackling, knows it’s completely impossible from this distance, but he’s certain of it. Something tugs in his chest, somewhere between unbridled intrigue and panic, his mother’s words of warning echoing in his head. The intrigue wins, it’s an easy internal battle of common sense and childlike wonder which he thought he had long abandoned. 

Aleksander scrambles to his feet, accidentally getting dirt on his palms and his trousers but he barely notices, head still tilted to the sky and his breath caught in his throat. He can see the trajectory of the star, where it will land in a section of the forest just a bit off from where he’s camping out. His eyes widen, a small smile, and before he knows it he’s stepping towards the tree-line, his black boots thudding on the ground as his footsteps get quicker and quicker. 

To anyone else, the forest might’ve seemed daunting, especially so late at night. But the Shadow Summoner stepped into it without hesitation, the wizened terrain underfoot switching to a softer crunch of twigs and leaves. Once inside, he loses sight of the star, the canopy of the forest shielding it from him, its only indication being the unnatural light it shines through the leaves onto the forest floor, making his journey easier. He dodges twigs, branches, spider-webs, ducking and batting them out of the way quickly, balancing looking at the floor and where he’s going with gazing up at the foliage covered sky for any indication he’s travelling the right way. 

He doesn’t know why he’s following after the star. He doesn’t know how he knows it’s a star. It feels more akin to when you’re in a dream, and you just know something is. Something about it compels him, drags him forward and pushes him on, deeper into the forest.

When the star makes impact, he feels it. In fact, Aleksander’s sure the entire world might’ve felt it, the shake in the trees and the ground, the birds disturbed from their midnight peace quickly fleeing their homes at the rattle of the branches and leaves, the dust-like dirt stirring. And it guides him to the star - the cracking noise it made as it hit the ground unmistakably came from a fraction to his left and so, he followed that way. 

He knows he’s getting closer when the damage becomes more destructive. It’s no longer just disturbed birds and dirt, it’s entire trees tilted at an angle as if God had pushed a finger into the dirt and tilted them, their roots peeking through the soil. But in the middle of the makeshift clearing it is dark, the disturbed dirt floating and drifting through the air and concealing his surroundings. The ground is severely dented and compacted, forming a large dark crater which Aleksander can barely peek over. 

He shuffles from the damaged treeline, his boots creaking on the soil as he tries to catch a glimpse over the edge of the vast crater, but it’s wide and deep, and the edges are loose. He’s careful, his Shadows waiting obediently for his hands to move - for some form of attack or defence. But it never comes. 

Instead, as the clouds of dirt clear, the centre of the crater gradually became more visible. The middle was, overall, smooth but it slopes and nicks here and there. He had expected to see a rock, some large grey bland thing which ultimately would’ve made this all less exciting. But what he sees instead has his eyes widening. There, in the middle of the crater, is a young woman. She’s asleep - passed out maybe - her arms loosely stretched outwards, her hair splayed, messy and white. It’s not even like he can say it’s grey, or silver, or blonde. No, her hair is white, paper white, as white as the dress she’s wearing. It fits her well, skims over her body without constricting too much movement.  He notices she has no shoes on. It dawns on him that this sleeping woman, this girl, is the Star and his brow furrows softly. 

He barely hesitates before he’s sitting on the ledge of the crater and sliding down it, his boots landing on the compacted soil with a thud. In a few strides he’s standing over the sleeping girl, and then in another quick action he crouches down and picks her up, the back of her knees bent over his arm, her waist in his other as he supports her back and her head lolls. He huffs in soft amusement, and walks back the way he came, gently hoisting her up the wall of the crater with as much care as he can, using his shadows when he has a spare hand. It’s hard, and takes a bit of manoeuvring, but he gets there eventually before he pulls himself up. It’s a surprise to him that she hasn’t woken up yet. 

He didn’t feel comfortable leaving her there like that, asleep, vulnerable and barefoot where anyone could’ve found her and not have known what they had stumbled on. He picks her up again, and begins his journey back through the forest, a little slower and with a little more care, mumbling to himself - to her - as they go. She doesn’t stir once, her head propped against his chest, her hair tickling his arm slightly. 

The journey back to where he was camping out is peaceful. It’s quiet, save for his footsteps or the rustle of clothes. Occasionally, the moonlight catches her and she sparkles a bit. Literally sparkles, reflects it like a goddamn mirror. It really is a sight to see and it makes his lips quirk up a bit. 

When they get back to the field, he’s careful. Aleksander lays her down on his mat, adds a few more logs to the fire and covers her with his coat. He thinks of checking her for injuries or damage, but decides that can wait until she wakes up. He doesn’t want to be a creep, and if she’s in pain she’s probably better off telling him when she wakes up, than him finding out for himself. 

And so, he settles himself on the other side of the campfire. He leans his head on his pack - considering the girl next to him has his mat - and tries to get what little sleep will come. 

-

When Y/N wakes, it’s in unfamiliar surroundings. The first thing she’s aware of is the cold. It’s not freezing, but it’s uncomfortable, and she tucks her legs up under her until she’s in a ball, tugging the blanket under her chin. Blanket? No. She shouldn’t have a blanket. It shouldn’t be cold… 

She sits up fast and quick, all lethargy gone from her body as her eyes widen and she takes in her surroundings. She’s in a field. On a mat. And someone’s dark, large coat is over her body. It’s early morning, the sky a pale grey, a low mist settling on her surroundings and a light dew coating the grass. She can feel heat on one side of her, but her head is turned towards the foggy treeline. She tries to recall the last things she remembers… being in the sky, existing, and then a sudden gap which she can’t figure out, and then she wakes up here. 

She’s caught in thought, trying to make sense of her surroundings when a voice says, “You’re awake.” and her head whips around. On the other side of a fresh campfire is a young man, dark eyes, long dark hair, pale skin and dark clothes. He’s roasting a rabbit over the fire - no doubt freshly caught from the knife that sits beside him. His pack sits beside him, his eyes never leave her, even as she expresses soft panic. 

She tries to get up, but her body aches, and he holds out a hand, “Easy. I’m not… I’m not going to hurt you. What’s your name?” he asks softly, waving to her to relax. 

She answers hesitantly, her eyes scanning the boy, “Y/N.” she says eventually, “You?” 

“Leonid.” Aleksander lies, looking between the campfire and her, “Are you hurt anywhere? You took… quite the fall.” 

“Funny.” Y/N says drily, “How long have you been working on that one?”

From the grin that splits his face, he’s clearly secretly pleased with his dad-joke, “Just this morning.” Leonid - Aleksander - turns a bit more serious, “Are you, though? Hurt?” 

She shakes her head, kicking the coat off her and putting it to one side so she can sit up properly, “No, I’m fine.” she mumbles, “Just achy.” 

“Mhm, I suppose that’s to be expected.” he holds the cooked rabbit out to her on a makeshift fork, “Here, eat. You’ll need it.” 

Y/N takes it hesitantly, sniffing it before picking a bit of meat off it with her fingers and eating it, “Thanks… who are you?” 

“Leonid.” He repeats. 

“No, I meant like - where am I? Who are you - like - how did you find me?” 

“Well,” he leans back on his elbows, glances around, “You’re in a field, near Vernost, in Ravka.” he says, “and I am…” his brow furrows softly as he figures out how to phrase this. She’s a Star - would she even understand the difference between Grisha and Otkazats’ya? 

He says it anyway. 

“As I said, my name’s Leonid, I’m…” he’s hesitant - would a star really have prejudices? He hopes not. He takes a foolish chance. “Grisha. You know what that is?” 

She nods, offers him what remains of the Rabbit. He waves it off, indicating that she finishes it. “Why are you helping me?” She asks, tilting her head. 

“My, you’re just full of questions.” he sighs, “I saw you fall. I wasn’t just gonna… leave you.”

“Right.” Y/N’s eyes narrow slightly, “is this your coat? Here you can have it back.” she nudges the coat towards him. 

He gives her an amused look, his eyes moving down, then back up, “I think you’ll need it more than me, zvezda.” he muses, smug almost. 

She glances down at the dress she’s wearing. It’s simple, plain, and he’s right. It’s too thin for the current weather - she’ll be better off as it warms up during the day - but for now, she accepts the coat with a small, amused huff. 

"C'mon, eat that fast," he says, indicating to the rabbit, "We've gotta get going before the sun is too high." He's already tucking away the few things he got out, "I'm gonna walk you to the nearest town, Vernost, leave you somewhere safe, okay?" he glances at her, "Get you some shoes and some more suitable clothes. Until then…”

He reaches into his pack, produces a spare undershirt and hands it to her with an almost apologetic look, "Better than nothing." she nods in thanks.

She takes the shirt with a grateful nod. Once she's finished the rabbit, she stands and hands him the mat, watching as he rolls it up and tucks that away too, and then they're set to travel. She pulls on the undershirt over her dress and while it hangs loosely it provides a bit more comfort, and then she shuffles on his coat. It’s too big for her, completely contrasts her bright eyes and white hair, the sleeves hang loosely and she has to roll them up. 

 He wants to make her as comfortable as possible, and so shows her the map he’s using, highlights the path they’ll be travelling with his finger, showing their way through the woods, worries a bit over her lack of shoes and then they’re walking. 

The path to the town is simple, through the woods, past her crater, and then a little further for about fifteen or twenty minutes. He’s careful to go first, his harsh boots making some attempt at flattening the ground for her barefoot condition. Aleksander considers picking her up - no, too weird for someone he’s just met - and she doesn’t seem to be in any pain. 

They keep walking. The sun rises higher, the morning beginning just as they make their way into Vernost. It’s a small town, but a good town. The hustle and bustle of people, farmers, artisans, builders and blacksmiths is accompanied by the gentle murmur of the small local market, travellers and locals who move between stalls and shops, horses’ hooves on the cobblestone, the crowd parting for an occasional rickety wooden carriage.

He glances over to her. The look of awe on her face is somewhere between sad and endearing. She’s struck completely by this tiny town, the smallest, simplest form of inhabitance, and yet it brings nothing but awe and wonder to her gaze. There’s a sense of yearning in the way her eyes run over everything as they walk, as if she’s desperate to take it all in, to retain it, keep it held to her chest - to make life hers. To have all of it - to know the joys and the sorrows like the back of her hand. Aleksander could practically see the light come to life behind her eyes, as if she’d finally woken up to something wonderful. 

He smiles, somewhere between amusement and appreciation, and places a hand on her shoulder to steer her through the crowds which are slowly getting busier, “Easy tiger.” he says and she laughs sheepishly. 

“It’s just all so…” she doesn’t know how to describe it, the words to explain the way her heart is racing all jam up in her throat. She has a heart. The rushing of blood, just the wind against her skin, it’s all she ever wanted to feel, and now that she can feel it, now she’s no longer confined to the night sky, she’s in complete and utter astonishment, raptured by everything around her. 

“Kinda overwhelming?” He suggests, raising an eyebrow as they walk. He’s keeping an eye out for a Cobbler - or anywhere that sells shoes, really. Again, he casts his eyes down to her bare feet and feels guilt and concern rise in him, that the streets of Vernost, nor the woods are exactly clean, and they must be hurting by now.

But one glance at her face and he can tell she barely feels it. It’s just dirt - it can be washed off. However, it doesn’t ease the guilt. 

-

The first time she ‘shines’, is over a piece of cake. 

They’d been travelling together for a few weeks now. Aleksander was a fool to think he could leave her alone in Vernost, his worries, concerns and guilt over the Star getting the better of him. They stayed for a few days there, giving her a general introduction to the workings of human life in a contained and somewhat non-threatening environment. 

In their few brief days in Vernost she tries a range of food, stews, desserts. He explains money, the current politics of the country over a bowl of stew from the Inn they were staying at, explains the prejudices and segregation of Grisha, the violence. They get her clothing, a shirt, an overvest, trousers and boots, and a small bag to carry her non-existent belongings. She folds her dress into it for the first few days - that silky silver material which catches in the moonlight - and it fits surprisingly well, tucks into the corner of the satchel. He explains to her how to read the map, all the different little symbols. In some ways, she’s like a child. Her lack of general knowledge about the world is understandable, but she catches on fast, much faster than anyone else could’ve. 

Well, they’d been travelling together for a few weeks, developing a relationship that might even be called friendship. Aleksander had to make a few adjustments to the way he travelled - he was still telling Y/N his name was Leonid - occasionally they travelled at night. Honestly, it made more sense, he felt more comfortable in the darkness, and she had more energy. But it also made them bigger targets for suspicion, people travelling at night were often suspected of Grisha related activity… which is exactly what he was doing. She was just along for the ride, and the last thing he wanted was for her to get dragged into his problems and potentially harmed. Conflicting morals, he knows. 

They’d passed through a few villages on their travels, small places which minded their own business and were good for occasional stock ups on food, water, supplies. 

He doesn’t know why he bought the slice of cake. Aleksander had decided it was good for her to develop her own independence, and so she had gone to make her own way around this small town they’d stopped in. Meanwhile, he perused the sparse shops for anything of use. 

The slices of cake were sitting in the shop window, all of them uniform in their cream decoration and the small slices of strawberries which sat inside and on top of the layers of sponge, and all of them placed delicately on little porcelain dishes. He enters the shop without thinking, purchases a slice to take away, lets the person wrap it away in a small tissue and carefully takes it, slipping it into a safe part of his own bag. He’s careful for the rest of the day in the way he moves - making sure not to squash or compromise the baked good. He can’t quite wrap his mind - nor his heart - around why he’s done it. Why did he suddenly feel the urge to buy her a slice of cake of all things. But he’s glad he did. Aleksander hopes she’ll like it. 

He presents it to her over their campfire for the evening. It’s a small thing made of dried grass and twigs or any larger pieces of wood they could find but it provides light and heat and that’s enough. They’re sitting either side of it, across from one another, having just eaten bread and cheese for dinner. Twilight is setting in the sky, and he can see it on her - the way her eyes are slightly brighter, her laugh slightly more mellow as they chat over their food. 

He reaches into his bag by his side, clears his throat and says, “I got you something.”

Y/N’s brow furrows softly, and she tilts her head as he continues, “I just… it’s small, but I thought you might like it.” and he produces a square shaped thing, slanted, and wrapped in tissue, still preserved, offering it to her in the palm of his hand over the campfire. 

She takes it gently, “What is it?” as she delicately peels back the tissue. The cake is… well, cake. The sponge is a soft pale yellow, the cream delicately placed and the strawberries are slightly softer than they should be, but won’t make too much of a difference. She raises it to her nose and hesitantly sniffs it, which gets a chuckle out of him. 

“It’s cake.” he answers, “Go on, try it.” Aleksander encourages her with a wave of his hand. 

She raises her eyebrows and lifts the cake to her mouth, taking a small bite. Her eyes instantly light up, and he laughs at her reaction as she mumbles, “Oh, Saints, this is really good..” Around a  mouthful of cake. 

She eats a bit more, and then holds it out to him, “Want some?” 

And that’s when he sees it. She’s shining. Literally glowing. Radiating light, her very skin and hair giving it off like it’s nothing. His breath hitches as she lights up the field. It’s not particularly bright, but it’s strong and it makes itself known. She’s like a mellow night light, and it only causes his smile to widen, “You’re um…”  he gestures at her - at her glowing. 

Her brow scrunches up - it’s cute - and she laughs sheepishly, “Shining?” 

“Yeah. That.” he grins, leaning back on his palms. 

She huffs, a huff of mock exasperation, “I’m sorry - I can’t… it’s not something I can really control. It just happens, y’know. Like…” She averts her eyes to the flames of the small campfire, “If I’m happy. I shine - it’s what stars do best.” They both laugh a little. 

“Well, it suits you.” Aleksander says gently - his voice much softer than he meant it to be, or than he’s comfortable with. When did he get so… compassionate? He internally grimaces, but for some reason he feels an odd sense of endearment to this girl. 

“Yeah,” She responds with a wry grin, “I should hope so. I am a star, after all.” 

And again, they both laugh. 

-

Aleksander didn’t intend to keep her with him for so long. He didn’t intend to introduce her to his friends - to his connections, to the people across the country who help him with his work. He didn’t intend to get her involved. But they’ve been travelling together for three months and in that time, he’s discovered a wide array of things. 

The first is that she’s good with a sword. Perhaps good is an understatement. She has a natural balance about her, maybe it’s her celestial nature, but watching her with a sword is like watching art. The handle sits in her palm with an easy weight, she swings it with an air of freedom and lax, yet with complete control. The blade is, undoubtedly, hers. 

They had discovered her penchant for swords in a rather unfortunate situation. They had been a touch careless. He was feeling more secure with someone else travelling at his side. And so, had paid less attention to his surroundings. If there was one con of her having her around, it was that she was a touch of a distraction. 

They had passed through a village. They stayed to briefly eat lunch sitting in the town square, and then had gone to pass on just as quick as they came. It shouldn’t have drawn attention. But it did. 

They hadn’t noticed the group of men watching them, looks of disdain on their features as they eyed up the two of them, mumbling to one another. They’d managed to avoid trouble so far, steering clear of Druskelle and negative situations, but on that day, something had given them away as both travellers and Grisha. It was hard to say what - perhaps it was the way they murmured and laughed quietly with one another, maybe the tell-tale way his hands moved. Perhaps he’d been careless and a slip of shadow had been noticed. They couldn’t say for certain. But these men, standing and sneering, they knew.

Either way, Y/N and Aleksander were followed back to where they were camping out by the night. It was just a clearing off the main path they were following, and they had been very comfortably sitting, eating, laughing as they did each and every evening, lit by firelight and accompanied by the low hum of bugs and the weather slowly turning cold. She noticed the figures first.

They seemed to come out of nowhere, far enough away that she could tap his shoulder with a quiet, “Leonid. There’s people.” 

His brow furrowed softly, and he turned over his shoulder in the direction she was looking at. Three men, two shorter, one that was a bit taller and lagged behind - all three variously armed. One man - short, dirty blonde hair and a face marred by smudges of dirt - carried a small dagger. The second, slightly taller with a slightly more muscular frame, had dark hair that was greying at the roots, a knife, and a snarl. The third and final man, the tallest of the lot was passive, but his eyes glinted in the firelight with nothing malevolence, and in his goliath hand was a sword. 

The man with the dark hair speaks first, accented and gruff, his eyes pinned to Aleksander, “Grisha, aren’t you?” he asks the question in a way that betrays he already knows the answer. 

Aleksander doesn’t answer. He’s careful. Delicate. She’s sitting behind him, watching the interaction, hesitant to move. He needs to think this through in a way that puts Y/N out of harm's way. His eyes never leave the men. 

There’s a movement out of the corner of his eye - the second man, wielding his dagger up quickly, his movements fueled by disgust. Aleksander’s quicker, raising his hand with two fingers pointed up, creating a wall of shadow which the dagger clashes against, and in that moment he’s scrambled up to his feet, grabbing Y/N by the arm and pulling her up with him. He runs. 

He’s not used to running. He’s used to fighting. But at the moment he’s responsible for two people’s safety, and so he pushes forward, yelling at her to go. He expected the men to follow. He didn’t expect the largest to go after her, the three men separating into groups of one and two. The two come after him, dagger and knife, and he has little time to worry about Y/N before they’re gaining, 

Aleksander’s efficient, his hands move fast to bring forth his shadows, forming sharp points which pierce the chests of the two men with harsh crunches, their weapons dropping into the grass as their bodies go limp, blood drooling from their mouths as the light leaves their eyes. 

He breathes a sigh of relief, but then he’s alert again at the sound of someone crying out from behind him. His head whips around, and he sees Y/N, and the largest man. He’s backing her up against the tree line, she’s almost frozen in fear when she trips over her own feet and onto her back. Her eyes widen, the man leers over her, sword readied and in a brief moment of fear and desperation she rears her legs and kicks his knees. 

The man grunts, hisses in pain as the sword drops from his hand so he can clutch at where she kicked him. Amateur. And in the next instant she’s lunged across the ground for the sword, where he dropped it, scrambling for it. She’s still on the floor, and she turns onto her back as the man’s attention is brought to her again, large hands reaching to cause her harm. 

The sound of the sword cutting into the man is almost deafening. She does it without thinking, pure survival instinct as she cuts the man's stomach, her hands firm on the handle as blood coats them both, her breathing heavy as she pulls the sword out and the man falls back, dying slowly. 

She’s frozen, and Aleksander’s eyes are almost as wide as hers. He takes a few loose footsteps towards her, a few more which are a bit firmer before he’s by her side, kneeling beside her and cleaning the blood off her cheeks with his sleeve, gently taking the sword from her iron grip and laying it beside her. 

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly, and it feels stupid. She’s covered in blood, shaking, tears in her eyes and the only thing he can think to ask is ‘are you okay’? Saints, he’s an idiot. 

He moves on, still wiping the blood off her as well as he can as she nods her head shakily, “It’s alright. You’re alright.” He says quietly. He remembers the first time he killed someone - the guilt, the fear, the horror at yourself. He frowns softly, as the thin shine of tears comes to her eyes and she looks away. 

Without thinking about it much more, he picks her up, scooping her into his arms, hooking the back of her knees over his arm as she turns and curls into his chest, her crying quiet and barely audible as he carries her back to their camp. 

-

After that, things are different. They’re closer, in a way.

Y/N keeps the sword, keeps it tucked by her side, takes care of the metal and the handle. She’s good with it, he knows for a fact, and he feels more comfortable knowing she has a means of handling herself. The emotional toll of the murder hit her hard. Perhaps, she thinks, she wasn’t meant to feel emotions like this. Her very existence is in conflict. She’s not meant to be able to feel this way, she’s meant to be a star for Saint’s sake! 

But there is something so very human in the guilt she carried in the days after the attack. She was quiet, much quieter than she usually was. At first, she was hesitant to carry the sword. So, instead he carried it for her, catching her eyes flickering towards it occasionally, the way it swung by his hip and the metal caught in the sun. 

One evening as they walked, she offered to take it instead. 

“Do you want me to take that?” she had said, a quiet, unspoken I think I’m okay now. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, “It’s not heavy, I’m okay to carry it for as long as-” 

“No, I’m sure.” She nodded, her look determined and firm, “My safety shouldn’t be your responsibility alone.” She explained, “We should be responsible for one another if we’re going to be travelling together. And I can’t do that if I’m unarmed.” 

He nodded in understanding, and softly unhooked the sword and the holder, and offered the handle to her. She took it, measuring the weight in her palm, before she put the holder on herself and slipped the sword into it. She took a breath. 

He spoke first, “I should tell you something, Y/N. Y’know, if we’re going to be stuck together for a while, I don’t want to keep you in the dark.” he said. 

She didn’t respond, simply nodded and waited for him to say what he had to say. 

“My name isn’t Leonid, I lied. I’ve spent most of my life having to conceal who I am, what I am, and so I hope you can understand and forgive my deception.” He paused, breathing relief into the night air, “My name is Aleksander.” 

“Aleksander?” She echoes, and a small, intimate smile finds her features, “Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Aleksander.” She says, in that half-teasing tone he’s become so accustomed with.

He rolls his eyes but can’t fight back the grin, “You’re an ass, do you know that?” 

“Ah, you may have mentioned it once or twice.” She shrugs, unable to wipe off that teasing smile from her features. 

He huffs in mock exasperation before his tone turns softer. He’s found he has a habit of doing that. Something about her makes him better, gentler. He almost feels human around her, “I mean it Y/N,” he says quietly, “I’m sorry I lied to you, especially for so long.” 

“It’s fine,” she says with a small smile, nudging his shoulder, “You’re forgiven, if that eases your conscience.” She’s still slightly teasing, but her tone is mostly compassionate. Endearing, even. 

“Thank you,” he says, grinning as he nudges her back, “Saints, you’re insufferable.” 

She gasps, dramatically feigning offence. For a star, she’s caught onto the culture of sarcasm and drama rather well, and he laughs at her display, wrapping an arm around her shoulder as they walk. It feels right. 

“How are you finding it?” He asks, as they walk, “y’know, being human? Is it weird?” He checks in on her this way every now and then to make sure she’s not overwhelmed. But this is the first time she answers differently. 

“...As a star…” She sighed softly, weighing up her words, “You’re constantly watching. You’re up there, watching all these little people have adventures and lives and romance, and it’s… it’s yearning. You want those things too, y’know? You want to be flesh and bone as well, to feel emotion. To cry, and be happy, and be angry, and to know what love feels like. You want adventure, the big things in life like… meeting someone. Or having a family. Or getting an education. Making a difference.” She laughed softly, “But you also want the little things - like cake, for example. And music, and friendship, and to share meals with people you care about.” 

She glanced at him, and then back to the path, “I’m glad you found me. I don’t think anyone else would’ve done such a good job at making me feel welcome in a world that isn’t strictly mine.” 

Her words were soft, quiet, and sincere. And it made Aleksander’s heart stutter in his chest, but he kept his composure and managed, “I’m glad I found you too.” 

-

Aleksander takes her to a place he calls ‘the sanctuary’. 

He explains it to her on the way there - a building, a place, where Grisha can support, aid and train other Grisha. 

It’s been months since they first met, and by now the warm comfort of the summer is fading, replaced by cold golden sunlight and browned leaves, wetter grounds and harsher gales. And so, he takes her there.

The sanctuary is a medium-sized, pale stone structure, hidden away in the middle of nowhere, concealed by thick woods and trees. It’s squat, but wide, the front of it gives away nothing but a set of rounded wooden doors. He takes her hand - she’s not even sure he realises that he’s done it - and guides her with him to the front. Her sword swings at her side as she follows, standing beside him as he raps his knuckles on the wooden door a few times. 

The door opens a crack, she can’t see who’s on the other side, but Aleksander’s gaze meets theirs and they open it. On the other side is a man, short brown hair and green eyes. He’s rather skinny, but his strength is held in his eyes. He lets Aleksander in without issue, nodding his head softly. Their hands are still linked together and so, she goes to follow. 

But the brown haired man stops her, a hand coming to her chest to halt her, his eyes narrowed and dark, glancing back at Aleksander. He answers, “She’s with me, Andrei.” 

“Grisha?” The man interrogates. 

Aleksander huffs, “No, Andrei. But she’s been helping me for the past five months, let her through.” 

Andrei’s eyes narrow in suspicion, and he glances at Aleksander finally before letting his hand drop and allowing her entrance. She nods her head softly, and follows after Aleksander. Y/N feels him squeeze her hand, a quiet apology. She squeezes back as he guides her deeper into the sanctuary. They pass rooms, beds, people who nod at him as they pass and whose eyebrows furrow when they see her trailing after him, and her stark white hair. 

Inside, the sanctuary was busy. It was filled with the hum of people working, all in various clothing - some injured, some healing, some cooking, some reading, teaching, training - it was almost a wonderful study in the kindness of human nature and community that had her eyes widening. 

“Are you alright, Zvezda?” he asked softly, turning back to her over his shoulder, “Are you overwhelmed? We can…” 

“No, it’s… it’s wonderful.” She said quietly, her wide eyes meeting his, “I mean- it’s astounding. I’m good.” she nodded, indicating for him to keep going, “It’s just… in all our time travelling, I’ve never seen anything like this.” 

He laughed softly, pulling her closer by her hand, “I guess,” he grinned, “I’m proud of this place. I’m glad you can see it like that.” 

They spend at least three weeks at the Sanctuary. 

Aleksander takes his time to introduce Y/N to those around her. He shows her around to all the Healers, the Heartrenders, the Inferni, the Squalors, Tidemakers - technically, he shows her off to everyone. But no one knows, really, who - or what - she is. He doesn’t say. People press and ask and inquire, “Oh, what’s her Grisha order?” “Grisha, are you?” And everytime, one of them answers, “Oh, uh, No.” and refuse to elaborate further. 

It has the entire building utterly perplexed as to who this strange white haired girl is, and why she has the Shadow Summoner wrapped around her little finger. Not that The Star or The Shadow Summoner can see it, no, they’re completely oblivious. They don’t see how they’re quiet giggles, teasing, conversations might be perceived as intimate. Nor how the amount of time they spend together might be seen as suspicious.

But when you’ve spent everyday with a person for just over five months, all day, everyday, it’s very hard to separate yourself from the comfort they bring.

The confession comes late at night. 

Now that they’re in a place like the Sanctuary, they have their own rooms. They’re only small, and they’re a short walk away from one another, and it gives them each a privacy they haven’t experienced for a few months. For the first week - it’s nice. Having their own beds, their own time, being able to spend some of it alone with their thoughts. 

He notices it first. That he’s restless. It’s late at night, most of the building is asleep save for those on night watch, and he can barely close his eyes without feeling disturbed. He feels the need to do something - anything - and so, he gets out of bed, slipping back on his boots at the end of his bed and deciding he’s going to go for a walk. Maybe it’ll help clear his mind. 

Aleksander’s almost embarrassed. He can’t… he can’t stop thinking of her. He’s annoyed at himself for it, for letting him get that close, for letting him be so vulnerable to someone who wasn’t even human, who had a child’s grasp on the world… 

No, that was being unfair. He calms himself as he steps out of his room. He knows he’s just agitated, tired, a little giddy, and he takes a deep breath as he starts off down the corridor, careful not to let his boots thud too heavily. He doesn’t know where he’s going, he decides he’s just going to walk until he comes across something distracting or gets tired. 

His feet take him to her room. 

It’s the same size as his, and from the crack in the door he can tell she’s still awake, can hear a slight shuffling inside, candle light flickering on the floor. He realises now, why he’s there. What he’s come to do. And his heart lurches in his chest, but he understands that it’s now or hold his tongue for another few months and he doesn’t want to do that. 

Aleksander wants her to know about the Y/N shaped cavern she’s carved into his life. He wants her to know about how all those nights spent travelling in fields were not something he was willing to give up so easily - that when spring came he hoped to do it all again. With her. That he thinks of her endlessly. That when he wakes he hopes she’s still sleeping beside him, just a campfire away. And he wants her closer. He wants her. It’s as simple as that, that he wants to see her smile at him, and laugh - he doesn’t care if it’s at him or with him - Saints, he just wants her happy. 

The revelation comes to him, standing so close to her yet so far, on her bedroom doorstep. He takes a breath, steels himself to the sound of her soft humming from the other side of the door, and then raises his fist and knocks three times. 

By the first knock, the humming stops. By the second, she’s walking over to the door, he can hear her footsteps. And by the third, the handle is turning. The door opens and he lowers his hand. She’s standing on the other side. Of course it was her, he knew it was her. It doesn’t stop his heart from thudding against his ribs, nor his breath hitching quietly. 

The light from the candle makes her seem fully celestial, casting a golden hue across her features, and darkening half her face to accentuate them. It bounces off her silver hair, catching in the strands like a contained forest fire. 

“Aleksander?” Y/N greets softly, a small amused smile as she tilts her head in soft confusion, her brow furrowing. 

“Zvezda,” He greets softly, his eyes catching in the candle, so dark you can barely separate the pupil from the iris, “Can’t sleep?”

She shakes her head with a small laugh, beckoning him in with her hand, “Always got more energy during the night,” she sighs, “And it’s taking some getting used to, not sleeping in a field, not waking up…” next to you. 

But she doesn’t need to finish the sentence, he simply hums in agreement and shuts the door behind him, leaning on it, “I know, it’s a big adjustment.” He runs a hand through his long dark hair, “How are you finding the Sanctuary?” 

“It’s nice,” she says softly, briefly fixing her words in a slight hurry, “Sorry, that sounded- it’s lovely. The people are kind, the community is wonderful, food’s much better than bread and cheese and meats,” She grins, “No offence.”

He laughs, his nose wrinkling with the action, “None taken. In fact, I completely agree.” 

She sits on her bed as they talk, tucking her legs underneath her, “Can’t sleep either?” She probes.  

Aleksander shakes his head as well, “No, feeling restless. Same reasons as you.” He admits, feeling a bit more at ease with the slight indication that the comfort they feel around one another may be mutual, “I guess,” he sighs, bracing himself to admit it, “We spent so long together. A week was fine - but it’s weird. I keep on… waking up and expecting to see you.” 

“I know,” she agreed quietly with a small laugh, her head bent down to her hands in her lap, “it’s strange, isn’t it? I feel weird not… walking with you, or doing something, seeing a new town or whatnot. And I have this feeling.” She frowned softly to herself.

He tilts his head, folds his arms, “What feeling, Zvezda?” He asks, his brow furrowing gently. 

“I… I don’t know.” she said, her eyes narrowing as she looked not quite at him - but just over his shoulder - “It’s like… this…tightness.” her hand came to her chest, her nose scrunching softly, “Here. Like… nausea. But not quite - I’m not going to be sick. And I can feel my heart. And it… it feels like wanting. But stronger?” 

His eyes widened a fraction, “And uh, when do you feel it?” 

She tilted her head, her eyes zeroing in on him in confusion and uncertainty, “When…” when I think about you. “Oh.” She said quietly, “Is that what that is?” her hand gently rubbed her chest, clearly where she felt it strongest, a sheepish laugh as she turned her eyes to the candle, anywhere but him, “They don’t describe it like this in the books.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief as he realised that he wouldn’t have to explain to her that what she was feeling was, at least, a crush. If not more. Aleksander laughed softly, “No, no they do not.” 

Y/N laughed too, mildly embarrassed and still somewhat avoiding looking at him, her hands fidgeting, “Look, I’m sorry-” 

“Don’t be.” he cut her off, “Don’t be, please don’t be, you’ve done nothing wrong.” He cleared his throat and took a sharp breath, standing up from leaning on the door, “It’s… it’s  mutual, Y/N.” and he took a hesitant step towards her, “Zvezda.” He said the nickname to get her attention. 

It worked, her head turning slightly, and he continued, “Please don’t ever apologise for having feelings.” He said, his tone so much softer than he was comfortable with, “You’re a human now.” he laughed a little, crouching down in front of her as she sat on the bed, “It’s your job now. To feel. To make the most of life. So,” he said with a playful shrug, “we both have… crushes on one another.” It felt childish to say ‘crushes’ but he couldn’t think of a better word. 

“I mean…” he sighed softly, “That’s kind of… why I came here.” He confessed. 

“Really?” she asked quietly, watching him intently as he spoke. 

“Really.” he echoed, standing up. She patted the bed beside her for him to sit, and he gratefully took it, glad she was taking this all so well and she wasn’t clamming up about their feelings for one another, “Look, Y/N, Zvezda. You’ve changed my life,” he said with a small laugh of disbelief, “I mean… you’re a Star, for Saint’s sake. You are, by nature, brilliant. And you’ve been nothing short of that in the months we’ve been travelling. Even if your humour is appalling.” He softly teased, earning a playful grumble of, “It is not.” from her. 

“It is!” he insisted with a teasing grin, “You laugh at all my bad jokes, dear.” 

“Yeah well,” her initial embarrassment was beginning to fade as they engaged in their usual banter, “I think that says more about you for making the bad jokes.” to which he scoffed, and she dispersed into laughter, the two of them leaning back on the single bed. 

The laughter lasted a moment longer before fading out with a soft, content sigh. He grinned at her from where he was, a hand reaching forward for hers as he softly, half-teasingly, murmured, “You’re doing it again.” 

“Doing what?” “Shining, Zvezda.” 

“What can I say?” she laughed quietly, her head finding his shoulder, “I’m happy.”

A/N: I cannot wait to go to bed. And also to start part two. Goodnight!! <;3

#Last Words of A Shooting Star AU #Stardust AU #the darkling X reader #Shadow And bone X reader #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander x reader #shadow and bone fanfic #general kirigan x reader #kirigan x reader #stardust au #thebigsl33p

[virescent-v]

Bars & Bets

A/N: A bar, a bet, and one night of absolute debauchery.

Emily Prentiss x reader (includes y/n). 18+ ONLY. Warnings: use of pet names, graphic detail of sex, some dom/sub themes, use of restraints.

Word Count: 5,798

You could feel the bass of the club music rushing through your chest, your heart galloping to speed up to match the pace. There was something so electrifying about being surrounded by people of all types, dancing, having a good time. You didn’t need to know their stories, hell, even their names, to have a good time. 

After the week you’ve had, all you want is a stiff drink (or four) and to let loose. If you found someone to spend a few songs with, or even the night with, that was fine by you. But it wasn’t what you were worried about looking for. 

Making your way to the overcrowded bar, you pulled on the hem of the little red dress you were wearing. It was shorter than you were used to wearing, but you couldn’t deny how sexy it made you feel. It showcased your strong thighs and made your legs look like they went on for days. Matched with the high heels you were wearing, your makeup a tad darker and smokier than normal, you knew you were going to turn heads tonight. Men and women. 

While you appreciated the hungry gaze of men, the way their eyes would travel over you, hopeful glints in their eyes that they would be the lucky one to take you home, you had no interest. It was the lustful gaze of women, the softness of their skin, the sounds you could pull from their throats, that made you a needy mess. 

Flagging down the bartender, you ordered a simple vodka cran. Easy enough to sip on while your eyes peered around the bar. While there were a few hopeful men looking at you, none of them caught your gaze enough to consider entertaining them for a free drink. As your eyes traveled back to the other end of the bar, you noticed you were being stared at by two people, together. 

One was tall, dark, and handsome. His eyes traveled over you, stopping to linger on your chest. You could tell he was the type to go after a woman, be incredibly charming, get her back to her place, and be gone before she woke up. Likely to never be heard from again. You could see other women in the bar mustering up the courage to even go talk to him, but he was staring at you. And while that was a nice thought, you were more interested in the stunning brunette beside him. 

She was breathtaking. Dark hair and even darker eyes. A killer smile. Slightly taller than you, but still fairly petite. She had this air about her that screamed ‘dominant.’ While her stance was confident, you could tell that she wasn’t really in her element in this place. She was more of a dive-bar, dimly lit, pool tables and beer kind of girl. She was wearing black pants that were incredibly tight and a white blouse, unbuttoned enough that you could see the edge of a lacy black bra peeking through. 

You could tell the two of them were friends. There wasn’t much exaggerated chemistry between them. While the man was staring at you, the woman kept glancing at you, but was talking to him. It seemed like she was egging him on, almost as if it was a dare. You couldn’t wait for him to make his way to you. Hopefully you could get a free drink out of him before you crushed his hopes of taking you home. 

Finishing your first drink, you turned back to the bar, flagging down the bartender. 

“How about I buy you your next drink, baby girl?” 

You smiled to yourself before schooling your features and turning around to face him. Bingo. 

You looked up at the man that you had seen staring at you from across the bar. A bright smile on his face. You could see how women wanted him. “That would be nice, thanks. I’m y/n,” you said, reaching out for his hand. 

“Derek. Nice to meet you, beautiful.” 

His hand was warm, but you felt nothing. You decided to have a little more fun with him before sending him on his way. “So, Derek, who’s the girl over there that was betting you to come over here?” 

His laugh was deep, barely audible over the loud music of the bar. He gestured back over to the woman in question. You caught her eyes, smiling as she blushed a bit, as if she knew you two were talking about her. “That’s Emily. She’s just a friend from work. She didn’t want to come out  alone tonight.” 

You turned back to Derek. “So, you came over here and left her alone? Not a very good wingman if you ask me,” you said, eyebrow raised. 

Derek raised his hands a little. “She can take care of herself.” 

You glanced back over to the beautiful brunette. “I’m sure she can,” you mumbled. 

You turned back to Derek as you felt his hand settle on your hip. “So, baby girl, how about a dance?” 

You almost felt bad for what you were about to do. Almost. 

“Derek, while a dance sounds lovely, I’m actually not interested.” You said, removing his hand from where it was starting to caress your side. 

His eyebrows scrunched up adorably. He looked utterly confused, as if he wasn’t used to women avoiding and denying his advances. 

You looked at him, giving him a little smile as you said, “While I enjoy your company, Derek, I am far more interested in that beautiful coworker of yours, if you catch my drift. Plus, there is a stunning blonde on the other side of the bar that has been staring daggers into my head since you walked over here. I think she might be the better option for you tonight.” 

Derek laughed loudly, his head thrown back a little. “Fair enough, y/n. It was nice meeting you. And tell Emily I owe her twenty bucks.” 

“I will,” you laughed. “Have a great night, Derek.” 

“You too, y/n. Take care of her, yeah? It’s been a rough week.” 

You raised your glass to him, sauntering over to where he’d left Emily. She was sitting at a table, watching you with curious eyes as you approached. She hadn’t moved from her spot and no one had joined her. For that, you were thankful. 

“Derek says he owes you twenty dollars,” you said with a smile. “I’m y/n.” 

Her face immediately lit up with a smile as she tossed her hair back from her face with a laugh. Now that laugh, it did something to you. But nothing like her voice did. “I love betting against him. I hardly ever lose,” she said. Her voice was deep enough to send chills down your spine.

You took a sip of your drink, your curiosity getting the best of you. “And what was this bet I was seemingly a part of?” 

Emily smirked at you, looking you up and down a little. You felt your cheeks heat up a little under the scrutiny. “I bet him that he couldn’t get you to dance with him. That you would turn him down in under five minutes. I was right.” 

You laughed, not surprised that she was able to read you so well. Something about her told you that she was great at reading people, just like you were. “That’s a good bet. If you had only bet that I would much prefer your company than his, you could’ve doubled your win,” you said, letting your eyes travel down her body, lingering on her chest, before sliding down to her pants, which you could now tell were leather. You licked your lips. You wanted to touch, slide your hands up them. 

When you looked back up, Emily was looking at you with a mix of awe and lust. Like she didn’t think you’d be so forward. It made you giddy with the anticipation of what could happen tonight, if she was willing. You were curious to see if she was as dominant as you thought she’d be, or if she’d surprise you and let you take control for the night. 

“Do you want to dance with me, y/n?” 

You smiled as you finished off your drink. “After you, Emily.” 

She grabbed your hand and led you out onto the dance floor, pulling you into the sea of people already out there pulsating and sweaty to the thick beats of the music. You started off facing her, your arms coming up to wrap around her shoulders, moving your hips to the music. You could feel how tense she was, as if she’d never really danced with another woman at a club before. Leaning in, you whispered in her ear, “Relax for me, Emily. Feel the music, feel me, and let go.” 

Emily’s hands shot up to your hips, feeling them sway left and right. Eventually, she started to move with you, her movements a little choppy at first. You grinned at her, pulling her closer to you, essentially forcing her hips to move with and against yours. You could feel the goosebumps erupt over her skin at your proximity. As the song progressed, you could feel Emily start to fully relax into the music, letting her body lead you both in a dance that was leaving you breathless. 

As the song transitioned from one with a heavy bass line to one with much sexier r-n-b vibe, Emily leaned in close to you and said, “turn around,” with such a note of authority that you didn’t imagine saying no. 

Once you turned around, Emily grabbed your hips and pulled you back into her. Your ass nestled tightly against her front, your back pressed against her chest. You could feel her hardened nipples through both layers of your clothing. Your chest started heaving. You knew she was dominant and you were excited to see more of her controlling side. 

You started moving your hips, whining and grinding against the solid body behind you. Your one hand gripped Emily’s thigh behind you, pulling her impossibly closer to you. You could feel her  breath on your neck, it sending shivers down your spine. You let out an inaudible gasp as Emily leaned closer and started kissing her way up your neck, stopping to whisper in your ear, loud enough to be heard over the music. “Such a tease, wearing such a short dress. Tell me, y/n, are you even wearing anything underneath it?” 

Your head leaned back against the strong shoulder behind you. Emily’s one hand remained on your hips, forcing you to keep up with the music, while the other started to roam. Thankfully, with how packed the club was, no one was really paying attention as her hand ghosted over your chest. You moaned out loud when her hand constricted around your throat. “Answer me, pretty girl.” 

From where your head was leaned back against her shoulder, you just turned it to the side to whisper in her ear. If she wanted to tease, you could, too. “No, Em. No panties. You would’ve ruined them by now anyways.” 

Emily quickly turned you around to face her, an almost evil glint in her eyes, her tongue wetting her lips. Her hand came back up to your face, running her thumb across your lips. Emily’s breath caught in her throat as you intensely connected your eyes, sucking her thumb into your mouth, running your tongue around it. Emily moved her hand back down to your throat, squeezing gently, while looking at you. “Naughty girl, going commando under this dress. What if someone sees what is so clearly mine?” 

You looked at Emily faux-innocently, batting your eyelashes. “Well, maybe, you should take me home and prove it is yours, then.” 

Emily smirked at you, before turning you back around in her arms. She forced your stance a little wider, thrusting one of her legs between yours. You could feel the heat of her leg pressed up against your uncovered pussy, knowing you were leaving a trail of juices on the leather of her thigh. It made you whimper as you started to grind against her. 

“Or, y/n, how about I make you so wet, so needy, right here in the middle of this dance floor, that you’re begging for me to take you here in front of all of these people?” 

You grinded down harder against her thigh, your movements sped up to match the pace of the beat of the music and the thumping of your pulse. If that’s what Emily was intending to do, you knew it wasn’t going to be long before you brought truth to what she said. 

Emily’s hands started trailing lightly across your body, the pressure never enough to satisfy, only to leave you wanting. When her hands gripped your hips and forced you down harder on her thigh, you couldn’t help the salacious moan that left your mouth. You could feel the dark chuckle Emily let out even if you couldn’t hear it. “Such a greedy little slut. Rubbing yourself against me in a room full of people. I bet you want them all to watch you come undone against me.” 

Oh, god. You didn’t have an exhibitionist bone in your body, but the thought of other people watching you as you came apart at Emily’s hands was enough to make your arousal pound throughout your body. 

This time, you did hear Emily laugh. “I knew it. Such a whore. Too bad no one will watch you come except for me, understood?” Emily growled at you. 

“Yes, ma’am, I understand,” you panted, trying to turn around to catch her lips. 

Except Emily had such a grip on your hips it was impossible to turn around. All you wanted right now was to kiss her, have her smother your moans with her lips.

“Em, kiss me, please,” you said, still trying to catch her in a kiss. 

She laughed against your neck, her lips slowly grazing over the sensitive skin there. “That’s what I’m doing, pretty girl.” 

You let out a frustrated groan, “that’s not what I mean and you know it.” 

“I know, baby. But be a good girl for me and keep dancing against me,” Emily said, as she pulled you tighter against her. 

Every sense of yours seemed to be heightened. You could feel the music in your chest, you could smell Emily’s perfume, feel her hands gripping tightly to you, feel the whisper of her breath on the skin of your neck. All of it was beginning to be almost too much. You could feel yourself getting wetter as each moment passed. All you wanted was for Emily to kiss you, take you home, and then take you. 

You were hardly able to get any friction from grinding against Emily’s leg, her pants being coated in your essence. You tried to grind down harder, faster, anything to get you some relief, but nothing was working. 

As if she could feel your frustration rising, Emily finally turned you around towards her, breaking the contact between you and her leg. “You look so pretty when you’re desperate, y/n,” she said, winding a hand into the hair at the base of your neck, pulling your faces closer together. Her breath was hot against yours, both of you worked up, your panting almost matching the thumping of your racing pulse. 

“Emily, please-” you started. 

Before you could finish begging, Emily crashed your lips together. The kiss was sloppy, teeth and tongues crashing against each other. You only pulled away once you needed some air. “Take me home, now, Emily. Please.” You didn’t care about pleading anymore. You just needed her to touch you. Make you come. However she wanted to, it didn’t matter, as long as you got to. 

Wordlessly, Emily grabbed your hand, dragging you from the bar. Before you made it out of the club, you caught a teasing glint from Derek. He raised his glass to you in a silent cheers as Emily pulled you through the door. 

—-- 

The ride back to Emily’s apartment was littered with tantalizing touches. She kept it pretty tame, all things considered, as not to alert the driver. But, with how worked up you’d been at the club, every little touch drove you closer and closer to insanity. 

Emily had snuggled up close to your side, her breath hot and provoking at your ear. She kept whispering indecencies as her hand started teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You subtly thrusted your hips forward, trying to get her fingers closer to your core. 

“Tsk, tsk. Trying to get my fingers to touch your needy cunt in this cab? Such a bad girl, y/n,” Emily whispered. 

You had to catch the moan in your throat otherwise the driver would’ve definitely known what was happening in his backseat. You looked at Emily, a knowing, sinful grin on her face. It made you needier. “Please, Emily,” you whispered back, thrusting your hips more aggressively towards her fingers. She was right there. 

Emily growled, her grip on your thigh almost bruising. “No. Now stop before I have to remind you who’s in control tonight.” 

While you knew it would probably end in punishment, you couldn’t take the build up of pressure anymore. Your own hand started to travel down, teasing the skin on the opposite thigh that Emily had a grip on. The combination of slight pain and enticement of your feather light touch  was enough to force your hips to move again of their own volition. Your hand had just creeped under the edge of your dress before Emily grabbed your wrist in a forceful grasp, making you wince in pain. 

“I said no, y/n. You’ll pay for that when we get back to my place.” The look in Emily’s eye was dangerous, but you couldn’t help but be even more turned on. You were sure your juices were staining your dress at this point. 

When the cab pulled up to Emily’s, she almost pushed you out of the car. Grabbing your hand, she pulled you up the stairs and into her apartment, slamming the door behind her. Emily shoved you into the wall beside the entrance way, gripping your throat in her hands. While it was a little rough, it wasn’t anything you didn’t want, didn’t need. 

“Such a desperate, needy whore you were being during the cab ride. For that, you’ve just earned yourself a spanking, little one. Come with me,” she said, pulling you with her toward her bedroom. 

She stood at the end of her king size bed and turned to face you. “On your knees, princess.” 

You walked up to her before slowly lowering yourself to the floor, head angled down, palms up on your thighs. You decided not to try your luck tonight. You’d be Emily’s good girl by the end of the night, no matter what it took. 

Emily gripped your chin, tilting your face up to look at her. “You look so pretty on your knees for me, princess. You gonna be my good girl tonight?” She asked, thumb rubbing across your cheek. 

Your face heated up with a little blush from the way that she was looking at you. Like you were her favorite possession. You hadn’t known her long, but you were lucky your eyes met in that club tonight. You nodded before softly saying, “yes, ma’am. I want to be good for you.” 

Emily smiled so genuinely that you couldn’t help but smile back at her. It didn’t last long, however, once she gripped your hair in her fist tightly. She brought your face close to her leg, the one you had been grinding on at the club. “Look at my pants, y/n. Look how messy you’ve made them,” she tsked, sounding utterly disappointed. 

Looking up at her from your position on the floor, you couldn’t help but whimper at the look on her face. Emily was in control. She owned you. “What can I do to make it up to you, ma’am?” 

She smirked at you, for just a second, before bringing your face closer to her thigh. “Lick. Them. Clean.” 

The moan you let out was filthy. You quickly stuck out your tongue, not wanting to displease her. At the first contact, you could taste yourself. You knew you were wet at the bar, but you hadn’t realized it was so intense. Your tongue swirled around her thigh, licking up every leftover trace of you. The hand that had lifted your chin was now tangled in your hair, guiding your face around her thigh. She only pulled your head back once her leather pants were glossy with your saliva. “Stand up, pretty girl.” 

Emily helped pull you up from the floor, which you gave her a grateful smile for, since the hardwood left your knees a little aching. “Turn around.” 

Once you had, you felt Emily’s hands brush your hair to one side. Her lips ghosted over the back of your neck as she started to slowly pull down the zipper of your dress. With each click of the metal zip, her lips would brush your skin down your back. It was making you needy in a different kind of way. You could feel the affection of her kisses on your overheated skin. It made you wonder if Emily was a romantic as much as she was a domme. 

Once the zipper was completely undone, Emily pushed each side off your shoulders, letting the dress hit the floor. She turned you back around, taking in your completely nude form. The dress was too tight and too revealing to wear any sort of undergarments. 

Emily’s eyes traversed slowly across all of your exposed skin, taking longer to linger at your ample chest, the swell of your stomach, and the light curls between your legs. It was such a heavy gaze, you could feel the hunger in it, a fire spreading across your nerve endings. You weren’t sure what Emily was planning to do to you, but as long as you got to come, you really didn’t care. 

Making eye contact with you, Emily stripped off her own pants and shirt. She sat on the edge of the bed, gesturing at her lap. “Bend over, y/n. It’s time I make good on that spanking.” 

You took in a shuddering breath as you felt yourself grow wetter in anticipation. Laying yourself over her lap, you flicked your hair to one side, looking back over your shoulder at her. Emily’s heavy gaze was zoned into your tight ass. Her hands started to grip and pull at your cheeks, getting used to the feel of you in her hands. She glanced quickly at you, “Count them. If you stop or miscount, we start over.” 

You weren’t expecting the first smack against your ass to be so hard. You felt the ripple of your skin and knew that if she kept that pressure, you were going to have trouble sitting tomorrow. Lost in your own thoughts, you felt the next smack come down on your other cheek. “Looks like you just want more, don’t you, y/n?” Emily asked, smacking you hard on the same cheek she’d just hit.

“Shit,” you hissed. “One!” 

You could hear the devilish grin on Emily’s mouth. “Good job, princess.” 

You almost rolled your eyes at how arrogant she sounded. Before you could fire back, a swift slap against the bottom of your left cheek, close to your inner thigh reverberated throughout the room. “Two,” you groaned. 

The pain was intense, almost pushing the edge of being too much. You wiggled your hips a little on Emily’s lap, trying to rid yourself of some of the sting. Before you could really get too much relief, you felt a finger at your core. 

“Jesus, you’re so wet, baby.” Emily said, starting to play with your dripping juices. She rubbed her finger up and down, gathering your essence from your opening, spreading it around your lower lips, stopping only briefly to rub at your clit. The pressure was more playful than anything, not enough to get you off, but it was still welcomed. “Just a few more, sweetheart. Then I’ll make you come so hard you forget your own name,” Emily said. She pulled her hand away from your cunt, using that one to strike you again. The slickness of her finger adding to the sting against you. 

“Three,” you panted. You really hoped she was done at five. 

The next slap came down hard on the spot she’d already hit, the pain slicing through you quickly. You could only imagine how red your ass looked. “Four!” Your voice starting to turn hoarse from screaming. 

The last slap caught you the most off guard. Instead of striking you against the skin of your ass, Emily’s hand had mostly made contact with your sopping pussy lips. That one made you mostly moan out of arousal rather than pain. “Five, ma’am. Thank you.”

Emily used both hands to rub against your ass, massaging the reddened skin. “Good girl, taking those spanks so well.” She gripped both of your cheeks in her hands. “Your ass looks so good, pretty and red with my hand prints,” she whispered, admiring her own handy work. 

Emily helped pull you up, settling you down against her sheets, you wincing a little at how tender your backside was. Emily caught it. “You okay, y/n?” She looked a little concerned, which you didn’t want. 

“I’m good, Em,” you cleared your hoarse throat. “More than okay. I’ll let you know if it’s too much.” 

Emily smiled at you, before disappearing off the bed and into her closet. She returned with a shoe box of what you could only assume was fun things. 

Emily first pulled out a satin sleep mask, holding it up for your perusal. At your slight nod, she placed it over your eyes, rendering you unable to see. “If, at any point, you do not like what I am doing, I want you to safeword out. What do you want to use for your safeword?” 

You took a deep breath, licking your lips. “I use the stoplight method to check in, but ‘vanilla’ is my hard stop, ma’am.” 

“Good. If, at any point, you want to stop, you say vanilla or red or tap me anywhere on my body three times and I will stop. There will be no punishments for stopping or using your safeword. Understand?” Emily asked. 

You appreciated the check in. It wasn’t needed; you knew you could just say ‘stop’ and she would. Even with only knowing Emily for a few hours, you trusted her. “I understand. If I want to stop, I say vanilla, red, or tap you three times.” 

“Good girl.” 

Emily lifted your hands above your head, fastening them to the headboard with something soft, likely padded cuffs from what you could tell. 

Once she made sure they were secure, you could hear the snapping of a closure or bottle of some sort. Shortly after, you could smell something minty. Before you could question her, you felt Emily’s hands on your body, starting at your shoulders and quickly moving downwards to your breasts. “Peppermint oil, princess. Relax.” 

You could feel your body loosen with each pass of her hands over you. With your eyesight being taken from you, it felt like all of your senses were heightened. The smell of the oil was strong, but not overpowering. Mint was one of your favorite smells. It also forced your mind into overdrive, trying to figure out where Emily’s hands would end up next, what they would be doing to you also being a mystery. 

As Emily’s hands slid over your breasts, you released a lung full of air. You’d never been so turned on from such a simple massage before. “Please, Em,” you said, wiggling your hips a little, trying to get some traction between your thighs. 

“Patience, baby. I’ll get you there, don’t worry,” she said. 

You almost groaned in frustration. You knew Emily would be good on her word, but you wanted to come now. 

When you felt her hands leave your body, you could hear her shuffling around in the box she’d brought out with her. 

“You can come when you want to, princess. But once you start, you’re not stopping until I say so,” Emily said, immediately putting the wand against your clit and turning it on. 

You had to stop yourself from screaming at the vibration on your oversensitive clit. She hadn’t even really touched you yet, but Emily knew how to play your body so well. She made sure to never keep the pressure in one spot for too long, finding entertainment in watching the way your hips gyrated to get the vibrator right where you wanted it. 

You could feel your wetness seeping out of you, pooling onto the sheets below you. You hadn’t been this keyed up in so long. “Please, ma’am, please touch my clit,” you begged, trying to press down harder on the vibrator. 

“Hm, you’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me, baby.” 

Your next words got choked on a grunt as Emily finally put the vibrator against you, turning the speed setting up a notch. Your head rolled back against the pillows as you thrusted your hips down, increasing the pressure. You knew with just one more second, you were going to come. 

But you weren’t so lucky. Right before your body had a chance to contract and let go, Emily removed the vibrator. 

The whimper that left your throat was embarrassing to even your own ears. You have never been so ready, so desperate, to come for someone before. You could feel the tears of frustration welling in your eyes. 

“Aw, princess, don’t pout. Edging always makes the orgasms that much sweeter…that much stronger,” Emily said, rubbing the outside of your thigh, hoping to ease the discomfort of your missed finish. Her hands traveled lightly over your skin, keeping you worked up, but settling the fire within you just a little. 

As Emily’s hands made contact with your breasts, squeezing, pinching, and rolling your nipples between her fingers, her mouth made contact with yours. The kiss was slow, gentle almost, but sinful enough to make you see stars. Emily kissed you intensely, her tongue making passes against yours; she tasted like her drink from the bar and something else, something her, that drove you wild. 

After kissing you breathless, Emily trailed one of her hands down, lightly circling your clit causing your hips to jump. She did not linger at your swollen bud long before moving down to your pussy, thrusting two fingers inside quickly. 

“Fuck, Emily,” you moaned. 

“I love hearing my name from that mouth of yours, pretty girl. Make sure to say it when you come for me.” 

The pace she set was just what you needed; fast, hard, and deep. She was scissoring her fingers back and forth making you stretch to fit her. Within a few strokes, she found that special spot inside of you that had your back arching off of the bed and pulling at your restraints. 

“Hm,” Emily chuckled. “You’re going to come so hard for me, princess.” 

Your mouth opened as if to moan, but your voice wasn’t working. You could only focus on the feel of Emily inside, thrusting, twisting, and stretching you open. With each brush of her fingers against your g-spot, you could feel the pressure tightening, threatening to snap. “Ugh, Em,” you panted, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Like you couldn’t get enough air. 

“I know. You’re almost there. It’s going to be so good, baby.” 

With the click of the vibrator, the incredible fucking Emily was doing, and the fact that you just needed to come so badly, you almost lost it right then. 

“Aw, honey. You’re so close, aren’t you? You gonna come for me?” Emily sweetly said, each word emphasized by a hard thrust into you. 

You couldn’t speak, opting to just aggressively nod in confirmation. You were almost there. 

“When you’re done coming, I’m going to sit on that pretty face of yours. I’m going to ride you until you make me come. Now come, y/n,” Emily growled, pressing the vibrator harder against your clit, rubbing at that sweet spot inside of you faster. 

“Emily!” 

Your back bowed so hard it felt like you were bent in half. Your legs clamped together, holding Emily in place. But that didn’t stop her from continuing to rub your g-spot inside, flicking her fingers back and forth quickly. 

“Let go, all the way. Give it all to me.” 

The pressure was all encompassing. Overwhelming. With a quick bite to the swell of your breast, you came. Hard. Fluids gushing out of you, soaking Emily’s hand, her lap, and the sheets below you. “Fuck! Emily!” 

Emily brought you down from your orgasm gently, rubbing your body to bring you down. But you were so worked up you couldn’t control the shaking. Quickly undoing your restraints and blindfold, Emily gathered you up in her arms, holding you close to her, whispering sweet words of encouragement in your ears. “Good girl, honey. You came so well for me,” she said. 

You snuggled in closer to her chest, trying to catch your breath. You don’t think you’ve ever been fucked so well before. Never had someone read your body the way Emily did. 

“Was that the first time you’ve ever-” Emily started. 

“Yes. My god, Em. I didn’t even think that was possible,” you chuckled, still breathing hard. 

You could feel Emily smile against the top of your head. “Well, it was definitely possible. I’m glad I got to be your first.” 

Hopefully you’ll be my second…and third…and last.

You paused, tensed a little. 

Whoa, where did that thought come from? 

“Y/n? You okay?” 

Of course Emily could feel your muscles contract. “Yeah, Em. Just realized I still owe you that orgasm, but I don’t think I can move,” you tried to hide behind another little giggle. 

“Oh, don’t worry, princess. You can sleep. And repay me in the morning.” 

You tilted your head up, searching for Emily’s eyes. When you caught them, you almost gasped at how much affection you saw in them. You wondered if she was having the same thoughts that you were. The genuine smile on her face made you smile back. 

“I look forward to it, ma’am,” you smirked. 

Cuddling back into her chest, you sighed with contentment. 

Thank god for bars and bets.

#emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x you #virescent v fanfic #v writes #this is kind of like really smutty #i am not even the slightest bit ashamed #but next fic will be something cute and fluffy i feel lmfao #but like im just a simple gal loving a fictional fbi agent #im also taking requests if anyone has any ideas :) #thanks for reading friends!!

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Hi, and welcome to my Chris Evans Masterlist. It is nice to welcome you to my little corner of Tumblr! 💙

On this Masterlist, you will find all my series, one shots, requests, and AU's that will include fluff, smut, and angst, but each story will have its own appropriate warnings. If you'd like to check out what other characters/people I write for, you can check out my Main Masterlist.

For now, I hope you will have fun with all the things I have written so far! 💙

I do not work with a tag list. If you want to be kept up to date when I post a new story, you can follow @nicoline1998enilocin-library 💙

All graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

||  Angst ~ 🥀  ||  Fluff ~ 💙  ||   Smut ~ 🔥   ||

Pool party || 💙 🔥 Chris invites you along with his other Marvel co-stars for a pool party to celebrate the fact that you finished shooting your latest movie together. At this party, the sexual tension between you and Chris reaches an all time high, and you both can't take it anymore and you have to have each other right then and there.

Movie nights and blanket forts || 🥀 💙 Scott has invited you to a barbecue at his brother Chris' house, and you are going with him reluctantly. That night you and Chris really hit it off and became good friends, but when he learned that you never built a blanket fort before, he really wanted to help you build your first one.

Two dogs and a piano || 💙 You go for a run through Boston with your husky Willow, and you run into the one and only Chris Evans. When he invites you over for a playdate for the dogs, you find out the two of you have more in common than you could have imagined.

Saving my Angel || 🥀 💙 You are in a toxic relationship with your boyfriend, and even though he's always there for you, Chris can't take it much longer to see you like this. When your boyfriend makes you cut all ties to him, Chris will do everything in his power to make sure you'll get safely to the other side.

Intimate moments || 💙 🔥 You and Chris have been married for a few years, but the intimacy has only grown stronger in this time. Not only do you share amazing chemistry in the bedroom, outside of that the both of you enjoy lots of other types of intimacy.

First date jitters || 💙 During your first date with Chris, you notice he is very nervous. He keeps accidentally knocking things over and spilling things, but he doesn't want to admit it's because this is his first date in many years.

Leaving everything behind || 🥀 Chris confesses his romantic feelings towards you, but you do not feel the same about him. It breaks your heart to see him like this, but in order to keep the peace between you two, you move away. How will the both of you work through this?

An abundance of dogs || 💙 You're dog-sitting for a friend of yours, and decide to surprise Chris by saying you got him a new dog as a present. He's not sure what to think at first, but when you tell him it's a prank, he can't help but fall in love with you even more than he already has.

Honey, I'm home! || 🔥 Chris has been away to film for a few months, and you miss him more than you thought you would. FaceTiming him is only helping you a little bit, and when he suddenly turns up at your doorstep unannounced, you find it hard to believe he's actually home.

An inseparable trio || 🥀 💙 You have always been nervous around dogs, because you've never been around them growing up. When you meet your new neighbor Chris and he tells you all about Dodger, you're unsure at first but eventually, you give in and meet the little guy. From that moment on, all three of you become practically inseparable.

It'll be okay || 🥀 💙 After nearly a decade of being together, you're going through an intense breakup, so you're at a loss about what to do with yourself. Luckily for you, your best friend Chris knows exactly what to do to make you feel better, and you're very thankful to have him in your life.

All the reasons why I love you || 💙 Today is your wedding day, and Chris recalls some of his most fond memories of you, his wife. From the moment you first met to the moment he first heard your laugh, not a single moment is forgotten by him. It is at that moment that you realize how much he paid attention to all the little things, and why you have fallen for him in the first place all those years ago.

''I need you, Daddy!'' || 🔥 Chris is in an online interview and you're feeling needy. The only way to rid yourself of your feelings is by giving him the blowjob of his life, making it all even more interesting when you find out the interview is broadcast live on national television.

Can’t keep my hands to myself || 💙 🔥 Chris is staying up late to finish some work, but you're getting restless in your bed. When you go and take a look at how he's doing he gives you an idea you can't refuse, but the outcome won't be what you had expected it to be when you agreed to it.

World's Greatest Dad || 💙 With Chris being away for filming during long periods, parenting can be complicated by yourself. Luckily, your daily FaceTime calls help you through it all, though it is always most exciting when he finally comes home. This time, you and your twins have prepared a little package to welcome him home after another three months of being away from home, and Chris couldn't have wished for a better welcome home.

A Baker's Dozen || 🥀 💙 🔥 || ON HIATUS

I’ll be there for you || 🥀 💙 You're not having the best days since the flu and your period ravaged your body simultaneously. There is only one person you can rely on to help you through this rough time, and that would be no other than your best friend, Chris Evans.

Forever by my side || 🥀 💙 Your mom took a nasty fall down the stairs, and you're rushing to get back home. You don't have a way of contacting Chris, but when he shows up at the airport to be by your side, you know exactly why you said yes to this man when he asked you to marry him.

The good, the bad and the loopy || 🥀 💙 You and Chris have been married for a few years but can't seem to start your lifelong dream of having a family. When you go to the doctor's office to find out what's going on, you hear the news no person ever wants to hear: You can't get pregnant. This news hits you hard, but you have your fantastic husband by your side to help you through this in every way you need. Babygirl || 🥀 💙 🔥 Chris threw a party, but you do not remember anything when you woke up the following day. Not only are you not in the guest bed you were supposed to occupy, but you wake up in Chris' arms after a steamy night. He helps you piece everything together, and your dynamic shifts in a way you're delighted with.

In sickness and in health || 💙 You're sick and only want to be cuddled up on the couch with your two favorite boys.

Every step of the way || 🥀 💙 Ever since you were small, you have had a substantial fear of the dentist, and now that you have to have your wisdom teeth removed, your anxiety is growing every day. It's a good thing you have Chris by your side, as he will be there alongside you every step of the way, making the load to bear a little less difficult.

#masterlist #chris evans

[rea-can-yeet]

Not me casually dropping part two after a long time of me being MIA. Sorry about that! Y'knowzzz life and all hahahaha! I edited my tumblr pinned post where I put my current status there so yeah if you wanna know what's going on with me you can check it out haha anyway here's chapter two of 'mutineer'! Does anyone still remember this?? Or even this blog??? Oh god what if y'all thought this blog was dead??? Or worse- sagau ain't a thing much now? Wait lemme double check after I post this-

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REMINDER: This is gender neutral for all readers. Sagau stands for Self Aware Genshin Alternative Universe, but this is leaning much towards the God/Creator AU where the characters are aware that they’re being controlled but not aware enough to know that they’re in a game. This story is set in God/Creator AU, imposter AU, and lastly villain AU. This contains religious and cult themes, graphic violence, and probably some suggestive scenes (not this chapter yet, but the series will show some) so viewer’s discretion is advised.

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🔻

🔻

♦️

𝕄𝕌𝕋𝕀ℕ𝔼𝔼ℝ

"Damn, Y/n. There you are."

A friend, who she met when they were little and still vibe with even when they first became aerospace engineer students, commented while leaning against the old chipped doorframe. Her eyes landed on s/c skin, the arms to be specific, sweating. Her friend was huffing while holding a wooden bat, hair covering e/c eyes from her view.

She looks around at the damage the h/c haired had caused. Broken glass bottles, wrecked armchairs, holes in the blackboard, mirror shards around the floor, some damaged computer screens, and keys from shattered keyboards near the left cracked wall.

If this classroom wasn't abandoned or owner-less, she would have to use her wealth to bail her angry friend from being punished.

She had to witness Y/n being reprimanded for something they didn't do.

Stealing.

Ridiculous, she thought. Just because you hate a student doesn't mean you get to blame them for stealing your stuff just cuz they happen to be the last one to get out of your classroom, stupid petty karen teacher. If her friend wanted something, she knew that her friend wouldn't try stealing. And besides, she was willing to buy whatever Y/n asked, but she knows that idiot wouldn't like to ask for a lot of money from her. Y/n is greedy, but she knows Y/n is not that greedy. And of course, not greedy enough to steal.

And if the Y/n did resort to stealing, Y/n would have never been caught. She would bet her whole wealth on that.

Not only that, her prototype project for Aerospace Design class was dropped on the floor, breaking it. The culprit? One of the rowdy jocks. The man didn't even apologize and proceeded to run to who knows where while being chased by his friends.

And as if two bad things were not enough, Y/n somehow left a very important item back home; lunch.

That must have been their breaking point. So she had to follow Y/n. It took some time to find them, but she somehow found a Primogem keychain and thought 'Ah yes Y/n must have been here', and was led by crashing and banging noises. That was how she found this abandoned school a few streets away from the main road leading to their university and into the woods.

She knew Y/n's side that they rarely show to some extent, knowing her friend's tendency to be a daredevil, but she didn't think that Y/n would actually go destructive if being angered without a proper cause. There's an inkling feeling, of course, just being proven correct was a whole different feeling.

Her friend got a bad record and is being under surveillance and suspicion, hard work was unjustifiably destroyed, and lunch was left at home.

One bad thing after the other.

"Sorry." Uttered her friend, not much making a move of some sort, not even a turn of a head, still catching their breath.

She only sighs and lets out a little chuckle. Y/n is a nice person, loyal, and dependable. She understands that people have their own bursts of anger sometimes. Though, her friend has a little destructive flavor to it.

"You okay?"

"...Yeah." Y/n takes a few more breaths, taking in a deep one, then exhale. "I calmed down a bit." They say as they stood properly and turned to the person leaning on the busted doorframe that Y/n may or may not have also hit a bit. Dropping the bat carelessly, glass clinking from the impact, Y/n dragged up an armchair that miraculously survived their wrath. They sat down and wiped the sweat from their brow, their friend pushing herself from the doorframe and proceeded to sit on the armchair's table.

"Here." She pulls out Y/n's favorite drink. "Got you your bag and some sandwiches too." She hands them and Y/n accepts them with gratitude. Y/n puts the bag beside the chair and opens their drink.

"So question, how'd you find this place?"

"I have an attraction towards signs that have 'do not enter' or 'danger, not safe' on them if you didn't noticed. Or places with rusty barbed wires in the middle of nowhere." They take a swig of their drink. A breath of relief and satisfaction escapes them after. "This place was abandoned because of a strong earthquake years ago. This place will be bulldozed into a new establishment soon. Until then, this has become one of my 'Escape Places'."

She had to ask about this list of places her friend tends to escape to when she gets the chance later today when they play genshin at her mansion.

"How'd you get in the barbed wire fences anyway?" Asked Y/n as they eat their sandwich, e/c eyes turning to her.

She just takes out her assortment of skeleton keys. "I'm not athletic like you who can jump or scale over wired fences. I went through the gate. The padlock was rusty so it took some time."

Y/n hums, impressed. Then the face of amazement turns to surprise when she just drops the key on Y/n's lap. "You can have it."

"Why???"

"I found a shop that sells these in any color you want. I want them pink so you can have these since I'll be buying new ones anyway."

"You gotta stop giving me free stuff, I'm being spoiled rotten." The friend just laughs, picks up the keys, and shoves them into Y/n's bag. "You also gotta stop shoving people stuff when they try to refuse."

"Hush my child, eat and replenish. You have to help me farm soon. Those Regisvines are a pain." She zips Y/n's bag shut and sat back. "So... What are you gonna do now?"

Silence came between the two, though it wasn't uncomfortable. Her eyes scanned the destruction caused by her friend. She knew Y/n was a kind person at heart, and they tried their best to be good. To mind their manners, to be respectful. But she knows Y/n gets these impulsive thoughts sometimes. But she knows Y/n is goodhearted. Y/n knows their limitations and where the line is drawn. A very good friend.

But she knew that if being pushed to a corner, left with no choice, being wronged unfairly... Y/n wouldn't just stand by. And if given an unholy amount of freedom or autonomy, in short, freeing Y/n from any restriction or any 'leash', who knows what Y/n might do.

Y/n's chewing could be heard after some seconds before gulping followed.

"Not to worry," there, she saw it, that smile, that fucking smile that only meant one thing.

Throughout the time they've been friends, practically became soulmates, she knew Y/n had a variety of smiles that indicate different things.

A smile that meant Y/n was not okay.

A smile that meant Y/n's up to something.

A smile that meant Y/n's on their last bit of sanity.

A smile that meant Y/n found something interesting.

A smile that meant Y/n is in trouble.

There were many smiles belonging to Y/n where she knew what they suggest.

And this one... This smile meant only one thing...

"I happen to catch a glimpse of that asshole's ID and locker number, I'll be putting that skeleton key to good use. And I got a receipt at the same time the crime happened. But I won't stop at just proving my innocence. I happen to know how to retrieve deleted CCTV footages."

A smile that meant Y/n had won.

.

.

.

.

.

Bennett walks around the edge of Dragonspine in hopes to find any treasure in his ‘adventure’. It may be uneventful, but his optimistic self continued on his path determined that today may be different.

Of course, he wishes to go on adventures with his creator guiding him again. Adventures with the divine one spreading their warmth upon him has always been the best feeling he has experienced, thrilling adventures brightly shining on his path. But he understands that someone as mighty as his god can also have weeks where they’re busy. In fact, he is already grateful to be one of the lucky people graced with their god’s blessings and guidance. Bennett never once thought that he’d be one of the blessed vessels in his lifetime. As if all his bad luck was meant for this very good one.

So while he waits for their holiness to come back, he embarks on another adventure on his own.

It was getting dark, but the moon was kind enough to illuminate his path to the camp he had set up. As he walks along the trees, he notices something swirling in his chest. The same warmth he feels when his creator was visiting Teyvat. His lips formed a huge happy grin as he jumps excitedly around. He awaits for the dreamlike subconsciousness to seep through.

He waits…

And waits…

He stopped to raise his palms, he was still in control.

That is strange. By now, he should have started running around or scaling high mountains, visiting foreign lands, or even doing simple commissions for others. He puts one hand to his chest, and he takes note that the divine aura felt strange, different even. As if the aura itself was thin and feeble, yet, it was not unnoticeable that’s for sure. As if the aura was swaying along the cold eternal winter wind from the near mountain, unlike the warmth that usually resides within him.

As if the aura feels less like an ‘aura’.

He can’t quite put a finger on it yet, but the change in the usual sensation of being guided by his god was concerning. He was just about to leave when he notices something from afar, much deeper into Dragonspine. He squints his eyes at what seems to look like a leg. Was there a person behind that bush? Worried for someone’s well-being to be threatened by the harsh weather of Dragonspine, he immediately runs to it.

But upon arriving to assist the person, his eyes widened at the sight before him. Laid behind the bush was a figure he frequently see around Mondstadt’s church, little statues of them on altars in households around the city. A face that he sees in paintings and on some Bibles. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing, not trusting his eyes as they could be playing tricks on him.

There stood before your unconscious body was Benny, eyes wide with only one thought running in his mind.

Is he actually looking at the Creator right now?

He snaps from his frozen demeanor when he realizes that he was supposed to help you. He can’t leave you laying here in the freezing cold. But Bennett was hesitant, not sure how to approach you. He shakes his head from the nervousness, ready to help regardless of what identity you may have.

He kneels beside you, taking note of the rising and falling of the backpack on top of your chest. You were breathing, which was always a good thing to him while he places his hand on your shoulder to gently shake you awake.

He hears you groan, making him sigh a bit in relief that you were not completely out of it. He backs away on reflex as the person he is currently helping gently pushes the foreign and weird-looking backpack to the side. You inhaled deeply, making Bennett realize that the bag must have been making it hard for you to breathe due to its weight.

“H-Hey! Are you alright!?”

He can see your eyes still hazy and unfocused, but the air in his lungs was stuck to his throat by the sensation he was feeling from your waking presence.

It was undeniable to him now.

No wonder the aura felt less like an ‘aura’. Because it no longer felt like an aura, it felt more like …a presence.

He is kneeling beside his god. They’re there, with him, in the flesh.

His god blinks a few times, e/c eyes that he reads about shine under the moonlight. Glimmering eyes that seem to be glaring angrily towards the sky. Bennett stops his staring to avoid being rude and checked your body for any injuries.

“…That’s some rad Benny cosplay.”

You spoke, and Bennett never felt so stunned to hear the same voice that whispers around him to be murmuring coherently in front of him. And their first words were about… cosplay?

You sat up, with his help of course, and you looked closely at him. He sweats while casting his eyes away from you, unnerved to be narrowly stared at by his god. You looked around and Benny can tell that you were confused.

“Okay, what the… This is not my friend’s garden. And I swear it was summer. Why am I seeing snow?” You said as you looked at him, seemingly looking for an explanation. Of course, he is also as lost as you. But he did manage to find his voice and answered.

“Oh, um, we’re in Dragonspine…?”

And your immediate response was to laugh. “And you sound like him too!! Hahahaha! Oh man, and I’m in Dragonspine? Pff! Funny man.”

Benny only smiled while trying to make sense of your words.

“Man, not only does your voice sound similar to Bennett, your costume is so on point! Like- look at the detail! The shop you buy from is literally doing justice for Mihoyo’s drip marketing.” You looked around again, becoming more concerned. “No seriously, where are we? I don’t see my friend or her mansion or the tree house I fell from.”

You turned to the boy who held a nervous and unsure look on his face. “And what’s your name, exactly?”

“You just said it, your grace…”

“… You’re Bennett?” E/c eyes wide as saucers stared back at his green ones.

“Yes. I am. Your grace.”

You stayed seated, ignoring the cold as you stared into his eyes, looking for any traces of a lie. You trust your instincts in evaluating a person, your survival skills were honed by your parents after all. But it was still so surreal. You? in Genshin? No fucking way.

No fucking way.

You're in Genshin.

You see a flaming flower stamen nearby, and a sweet flower. The familiar sky. Dragonspine from afar, HD and all.

No fucking hell.

"... I'm actually in Teyvat."

You were well aware this isn't a dream. Despite your ability to discern reality and dreams, you tried pinching just in case. Yup, you were in your game alright. And surprisingly... you're not actually losing your shit.

Surprised? Sure.

But you can blame it on your survival reflex behavior to be whelmed in an unbelievable situation. You could release your burst of excitement later, right now there was an important matter at hand.

It'd be nice to chill in Teyvat if only you knew how to get out. Yeah, you weren't just gonna decide to stay forever. Teyvat may be cool, filled with characters you simped for and adventure and magic you could only dream of!

But you have a life.

It may not be perfect, it had downs and failures, but you couldn't just abandon that.

You wanted to become an aerospace engineer! Be close to the stars! Further the studies of astronomy! Help humanity reach the furthest parts of the universe, however small your contribution is!

Animes! Shows! Fics! Games! There were so many on your lists that you haven't checked yet and some are still unfinished and waiting for updates!

And also there were some people you want to get back at too. There's no way you're going to hell without settling some scores. You promised that when you're successful enough, there wouldn't be any reasons for you to stay as a goody-two-shoes anymore. And you would have to show those who wronged you who's boss, directly or indirectly, depending on that person and how they slighted you.

So you can't stay. You want to go home.

"Um..." Let out Benny as you turned to him. He was unsure. Not the unsure of someone so strange suddenly showing up, no, you were not that dumb or oblivious. It was much more. As if he wasn't sure what to tell you, movements showing that he knows what to say but is unsure when is appropriate.

He knows something you don't.

He called you something earlier. Your Grace. Were you some kind of high-status person? Is this a reincarnation scenario? Where you wake up one day as royalty who turns out to be the villainess in a novel for someone's amusement while stuck in class?

Nope, you checked yourself, and still in the same state as you were before you and your friend were falling to the ground. Dang, you hope your friend was okay, it looks like you were the only one who got sent here, which was good in a way. You like your friend's company, but dragging her to a place where she could get plummetted by a wild boar? Yeah, your friend would not survive long enough.

So what's with the title? You seem to have some sort of identity already in Teyvat despite being here for the first time, at least with the memories that have served you so far.

Maybe you could ask right now. But you want to butter him up first, get him comfortable. Of course, you know what kind of person Benny is. But with the off chance that Benny would be different than what Hoyoverse has displayed, you want to play it safe. At least, complete the evaluation to be sure that Bennett is the same Bennett that you knew in the game.

"Hey... I'm also at a loss here. I don't know how I got here. But I do want to find a way back somehow. Do you think you know where I could get help?" You asked, smiling nicely.

"I-I-I-!" You notice that he looks so surprised, there was a linger of disappointment too. Interesting, he wants you to stay a bit longer?

"I w..." There was a pause, you noted, "I could show you to Acting Grandmaster Jean. She should know how to help you!" You smiled happily, showing him you were grateful for the help. He slightly gets flustered and says that he has something to warm you up in his bag as an excuse to hide his face.

As soon as he distracts himself finding the item that might have probably been dropped somewhere with his luck, seeing as he's frantically still looking for it, your smile dropped, and stared at him.

He seems to know you to some degree, but he did not explain further, only saying that you should meet Jean for help. He should have explained something, seeing that he held no suspicion on you when you knew his name, and with the title he used for you, there was something. You heard his hesitation before he suggested Jean. He looked like he wanted to say something else. Of course, you could tell that he doesn't have any ulterior motives, but more so that he chose a different action instead.

Is it out of caution? Was he trying to be careful?

You have no choice but to gauge that out of him later when you get him comfortable enough.

_________________________________________

End of chapter 2: Rhododendron

_________________________________________

#Yall I wonder if you guys ever thought about flower language lmao #genshin cult au #sagau villain au #sagau cult au #imposter sagau #SAGAU impostor AU #sagau #genshin

[yuurei20]

Hello, Yuurei! Do you know if there is a timeline for the main story and events that would make for the best reading order? Even something as vague as "Beanfest is between books 3 and 4" to make a nice little roadmap for rereading purposes? Thank you so much if you can answer this!

Hello hello!! Thank you so much for this question, this was all so interesting to look into!

Reading order for events can be complicated, as the game seems to be playing with the timeline! For every "this is the order of events" compilation I found there was a disclaimer of "except for these points, which don't fit into the continuity," and that might just be how it is until we learn more about what is going on behind the scenes :<

If that is all right, I have put together a rough list of a possible reading order! (Largely by cross referencing the events/main story with things like this graphic, this summary page, and several anonymous posting boards, to learn what theories are out there.)

⚠️JP-server event information included below!⚠️ ⚠️ Also, this is not meant to be a definitive calendar of events! Just an idea about a potential order in which to read things with the least amount of timeline weirdness ⚠️ (but there is still timeline weirdness)

#1: Prologue #2: Book 1 #3: Book 2 #4 Stage in Playfulland #5: Glorious Masquerade #6: Terror is Trending

At the beginning of Playfulland Ace mentions upcoming Halloween preparations and finals, but he doesn't mention the Interdorm Spelldrive Tournament, so it is possible that this event happens after Book 2 (which is specified as taking place in October) but before Halloween.

The biggest issue with this lineup is Ortho, who appears at the very beginning in his college gear, which he doesn't get until Book 6. But they mention Halloween so it must be early in the school year, and it cannot be October of the following year because Trey and Cater are still living in the dorm...if you can forgive Ortho's outfit in the opening scenes, Playfulland otherwise fits in nicely.

Things get complicated with Glorious Masquerade and Terror is Trending, as they seem to be taking place simultaneously: both events begin with two different characters announcing that there is one month left until Halloween.

I would recommend Glorious Masquerade first as we don't actually see Halloween happening at NRC (just Jack and Ace preparing for it), but both events are about lead-ups to two completely different Halloween celebrations being held on the same day and attended by many of the same people.

As the end of Terror is Trending connects directly to the start of Spectral Soiree, it might be less jarring to start with Glorious Masquerade.

The continuity curiosity that people generally point to with the Halloween events is that the prefect is present for multiple people referring to Malleus by name, when they don't actually know what his name is until Book 5.

But there is something consistent across both Glorious Masquerade and Spectral Soiree:

The prefect never calls Malleus anything but Hornton.

It is possible that the game is asking for some suspension of disbelief with this point? Was my theory, but the prefect also uses the "Hornton" moniker during Firelit Sky, so maybe that is just what they do?

#7 Spectral Soiree #8 Book 3 #9 Book 4 #10 New Year's #11 Book 5

Book 5 lasts over a month, with Vil scolding Epel for not practicing during what were ostensibly their winter holidays, so it may go from January to February (the day of the Culture Festival itself is specified as mid-February).

The snow on the main campus seems to completely disappear during the three weeks between Malleus being invited to the VDC and the day of the event, but they might have just cleared it away for the festival.

#12 Harveston

We know Harveston takes place during the winter but not exactly when. Epel recognizes the dwarves from Book 5, so reading it before 5 might feel odd.

#13 Book 6

Book 6 starts only a few days after Book 5 and might technically come before Harveston, but from a reading-order perspective seeing Idia invite himself along to Epel's hometown right after kidnapping several people might be jarring.

Due to the timing of Harveston's initial release Ortho wears his pre-6 archetype gear for Harveston, which is also a point in favor of Harveston happening beforehand (a very busy few days for Epel and Idia). It will be interesting to see if Ortho gets changed to his college gear for the rerun, coming soon to JP server.

#14 Beanfest (1 and 2)

#15 Fairy Gala / Fairy Gala IF

#16 Vargas Camp (1+2)

The only hint we have for the two Vargas Camps is the knowledge that they happen within two weeks of one another and the title of the original event: Spring Happening.

#17 Rabbit Fes

I wasn't able to find any reference to when Rabbit Fes might be happening, but Ortho in his college gear places it after Book 6, and it is heavily spring coded.

#18 Phantom Bride

I was not able to find any specific timing for the Phantom Bride event, but we know there is not any snow on the main street, so presumably it is not during winter.

It seems to be generally assumed by fans that it takes place in June because of the June Bride tradition, and everyone's reluctance to do anything for Idia makes even more sense than usual if it is post Book 6.

#19 Tamashina-Mina

Was also not able to find anything specific for the timing of Tamashina-Mina, but we know it is hot (Jack faints from heat stroke).

Leona mentions a rainy season and Japan's rainy season goes from June to July, so summer seems like a safe bet (it also makes sense to be separated far away from Book 2, considering Leona and Lilia's drama).

#20 Wish Upon a Star

The Starsending also does not seem to have a specified month or season, but it is generally assumed to be happening in July because the event was heavily inspired by Japan's Tanabata, which is on July 7th. (more here!) Tanabata is also referenced by name in the original game.

Like Playfulland, Wish Upon a Star’s main continuity issue is also Ortho: it is mentioned specifically that he cannot participate in the event because he is not actually a student at the school.

He becomes a student in Book 6, which seems like it should put this event before it, except for the Star Rogue subplot. Idia and Ortho discuss the discontinued video game in Book 6, a sequel is Idia’s wish for Wish Upon a Star, and at the end of the event this wish is granted, which hadn't happened as of 6. 

No matter where you read Wish Upon a Star there is going to be some weirdness, so it may be best to decide based on personal preference! If Ortho still not being a student despite having just enrolled is more of a deal breaker than the Star Rogue subplot, it might be better to read it prior to 6.

#21 Lost in the Book with Stitch

Floyd has a line about summer vacation coming soon.

#22 Firelit Sky

Interestingly there do not seem to be any references to Firelit Sky taking place in the summer, but it is generally assumed to be around summertime due to the climate and fireworks festival.

Najma has a line about being worried about Jamil, but the conversation wouldn't be out of place before or after Book 4. Firelit sky might be one of the more flexible events, capable of sliding in just about anywhere, but the atmosphere fits in well with the line up of the Stitch event and Portfest.

#23 Portfest

The Portfest event takes about a month overall, but the time of year is technically never specified, so we do not know what month.

The biggest hint we get might be Rook calling the portwear designs "summery and cool." The aesthetic might fit best with Stitch and Firelit Sky, for reading order purposes.

#24 Bonus: Tsumsted

I have no idea when Tsumsteds 1+2 are presumably taking place, but there is no snow on the main street. As they are light-hearted stories it might be best to enjoy them between events rather than the drama of the main story? Perhaps between Beanfest and Fairy Gala, or Vargas Camp and Rabbit Fest, etc.

I made a chart for reference while putting this post together! There may be better interpretations out there than what all has been listed above, so I will include it as well, for the curious:

(and as always if there is anything I have overlooked, please do let me know! ♡)

#twstask

[apparitionism]

Bonus

Happy particular Monday! Here’s a story for it, which came about mostly because I wanted to put a couple of people into a clichéd situation, and then I had to do leadup and aftermath... anyway, it’s intended to be a two-parter (yes, I know; aspirations) set in a not-entirely-canonical season 4, in which the Warehouse did get brought back and Helena did leave without explanation, BUT Artie doesn’t go full Father Data and Leena doesn’t suffer the consequences—mostly because Mrs. Frederic has sensed some badness to come and thus sent Artie and Leena away. Because why not? Also I have Claudia jumping into Caretakering, and even a bit of Artieing, with some enthusiasm.

P.S. I know I haven’t yet finished last year’s Christmas story—that’s a pain point—but I genuinely am working to get back on various horses, including that one. Weather (in all senses) permitting.

Bonus

“I genuinely cannot believe we’re stuck in an elevator,” Myka says. It may be the most true statement to which she’s ever given voice.

****

SEVERAL HOURS EARLIER...

Myka’s reasonably pleasant thought, burring along as background to her monotonous tasks, is I don’t mind this. She and Steve are in the Warehouse office early in the morning, doing file inventory, and it’s true: she doesn’t mind it. It’s a little lacking as a holiday activity, but with Artie, Leena, and Pete all away, “lacking” is pretty much the flavor of the moment.

Claudia pokes her head in and says, “Ping.” She’s unenthusiastic, speaking of lacking. Where’s the usual revving about what it might be this time? “At some midwestern accounting firm, because it’s important to have a boring Christmas.”

Ah. “An accounting artifact?” Myka asks. Speaking further of lacking: here, it’s artifacty zing. Then again, artifacty zing got Myka trapped in Alice’s mirror, among other catastrophes, so maybe boring isn’t so bad. “Balance sheets?” she ventures. “Pluses and minuses?”

“Some people at this pingy company just got extremely large Christmas bonuses,” Claudia says, “and some got their pay extremely docked. So yeah, ‘balance sheets, pluses and minuses’ just about covers it. Probably. I mean, I might be trying to manage expectations here.”

Claudia’s certainly right, in that getting one’s hopes up—about anything (or anyone)—is a fool’s game.

But still, there’s something to be said for boring-but-remunerative, even if only for some people... what a nice idea. “I’d like a Christmas bonus someday,” Myka says, “instead of a Christmas penalty. Which I think pretty accurately describes the Pete-plus-artifacts situation.”

“It’s two days before Christmas, and he hasn’t done anything yet,” Claudia says. “That you know of,” she amends.

“Because he’s been with his family in Ohio for the past week,” Myka points out, and she’s gratified when Claudia rolls her eyes. It’s practically a concession.

Steve says, “It’s inappropriate to say ‘Christmas’ bonus these days. It’s ‘end-of-year.’” The contribution suggests he’s listening with only one ear.

“I wish appropriateness mattered here,” Myka says, not really to him but in general. Who knows how a Warehouse HR department would make heads or tails of the application of employment laws—much less employment niceties? “Not that it makes a difference. Christmas, end-of-year... call it Fred, and we still wouldn’t get one.”

“If I ever do get a bonus, I’m absolutely naming it Fred,” Claudia declares.

Myka shakes her head. “Poor Fred. Doomed to be injected right back into the discretionary economy.”

“Inject-o-what are you even talking about?”

“Just a guess, but: you’d spend it on things you don’t need.”

Claudia harrumphs. “Thanks for lumping me in with the avocado-toast-and-Starbucks crowd. My fiscaling is way more responsible.”

“Really? What would you use Fred for?”

“Asus VG278HE gaming monitor. Plus a graphics card, maybe the Nvidia GTX 690, depending on how hefty Fred is.” At Myka’s snort, Claudia challenges, “Fine, where would you inject it?”

“My Roth IRA,” Myka says immediately. She’s not sure what assets her evil, crazy, or dead self will need in retirement, but given the many and varied forms each of those, or combinations thereof, could take, it seems like a good idea to have a financial plan in place. That’s another thing a Warehouse HR department might be useful for...

“You’re the actual human manifestation of an accounting artifact,” Claudia accuses. “Speaking of which, here’s the deal. I gotta stay here—some Mrs.-F homeworky stuff—and Steve’s busy reassuring all the misfit toys in the building that Leena hasn’t deserted them forever. And I’d say ignore the ping entirely, but your never know what’ll go viral, and I bet Artie’d say the last thing we need is another financial crisis. Or maybe you’d say it. Anyway, you’re it. And for your backup, when you get to Cleveland—”

Myka groans. “Cleveland? Seriously? Pete’s going to be so mad about you pulling him away from the family.”

“I’m not pulling him away,” Claudia says, blinking like she’s some innocent little lamb.

Myka groans again. “You’re making me do it?”

Claudia shrugs. “Sure. Why not. You’re partners, right? But here’s some advice: wait till you get there to call him. You know, put off the misery, if that’s what it is, as long as possible. Besides—more advice—I really think you should spend your travel time thinking about bonuses. Who gets ’em and why. Because what’s a bonus, really?”

“An economic stimulus whose nametag reads ‘Fred,’ if I’m understanding things correctly.”

“We’ll see what you think about that when you get to Cleveland.”

“On the day before Christmas eve,” Myka grouses. “By the way, that’s a whole lot of ‘advice,’ coming from somebody who’s over a decade younger than I am and not technically my boss.”

“By the way,” Claudia mimics, archly mocking, “we’ll see what you think about that too.”

“When I get to Cleveland?”

“When you get to Cleveland. On the day before Christmas eve.”

“Sounds like the title of a lesser Christmas carol,” Steve says—he’s tuned back in to the conversation. He then says, with his grin that curves so impish, “Think we could get Mariah Carey to sing it? It’s a hit if we get her, right, no matter how lesser?”

“‘When You Get to Cleveland on the Day Before Christmas Eve?’” Claudia skeptics. “Hit-wise, that’s gonna need a lot more power: Mariah dueting with Darlene Love at the very least. Plus we’ll need a Destiny’s Child reunion for at least one chorus.”

“Thanks for reinforcing my sense of how awful this is likely to be,” Myka tells them both, and Steve’s grin turns apologetic.

Claudia, however, shrugs. “Maybe you’ll sing it different.”

Myka is now the one to roll her eyes. “I won’t sing it at all.”

Surprisingly, Claudia doesn’t go with another eyeroll. “We’ll see,” she says, and Myka is struck by the Mrs.-Frederic resonance in her words. Does the homework include practicing the enigmatic tone?

Steve looks up and catches Myka’s eye. He winks. Myka would wink back, but he would probably interpret that as her saying she understands what’s happening. And that would be a lie: serious enough, probably, to make him wince and massage his temples.

So Myka just blinks—not Morse or any other code, just basic eye-moistening blinks. Then she goes upstairs to collect her always-packed travel bag for her trip to Cleveland.

****

Her flight departs late, of course; it’s December in South Dakota. But that’s this-time fine, because it allows Myka a necessary excess of opportunity to prep her Pete-placation. Under her breath, she practices the delivery of such words as “shorthanded” and “necessary,” aiming for maximum sincerity.

When she at last emerges from her Cleveland Hopkins jetway, that extensive prep deserts her entirely, for what awaits her is the manifestation of a Christmas wish she has worked overtime to convince herself would not, could not possibly be granted:

Helena.

Whose arms are crossed, and whose posture betrays that her foot might recently have been tapping out impatience with the plane’s tardy arrival. The attitude is so normal, so entirely of-the-world (rather than of-its-imminent-end), that Myka wants to reverse course, get back on the plane and redisembark, just so she might meet it again, meet it and refeel this wash of absolute relief at seeing Helena impatient in an airport.

Devious, Claudia, Myka thinks. Outstandingly devious. “Hello, Fred,” she murmurs, then tries, in the ten seconds she has before she and Helena are in proximity to speak, to engage in a far more consequential prep.

For Helena has been gone—has been, as Myka put it to Steve not so long ago, “god knows where”—since shortly after the Warehouse did not explode. She was there, in the Warehouse, but then she was gone, and Myka was told only that Helena had “matters to attend to.” God presumably also knew what those matters were, but Myka hadn’t, in the wake of that first moment of absence, and hasn’t since, been able to pry any information about matters or their whereabouts out of anyone, divine or otherwise.

And through the seemingly endless wondering, Myka’s mind and heart have gnawed themselves ragged.

Until this moment, when the wondering and gnawing end: now her blood speeds, coursing with urgency even as everything else seems to slow.... her movements, her reactions, her thinking, all are sluggish, unresponsive; only her blood matters. This blood knowledge. For all her wondering, she’s been avoiding gnawing her way to that answer.

“Claudia said you needed backup” are Helena’s words when they meet.

Myka’s attempt at prep has fallen grievously short—not that she could have risen to such an occasion, not when hearing that voice for the first time in some time, and certainly not when faced with what her blood’s embarrassing insistence has forced her to confront anew. “I... assumed I’d be calling Pete,” she says, to at least go with truth.

“Interesting assumption. Perhaps necessary, if you believe I’ll be insufficient.”

Myka’s impulse is to reassure: “More than sufficient—you’re necessary,” she would shout, or better yet, whisper. Instead, because Helena’s tone is neutral—is she in actuality indifferent?—she falls into a defensive, businesslike crouch, offering only implicit denial of the premise of Helena’s statement. “Let’s head for the accounting firm,” she says, internally cursing herself.

Cursing, but also justifying: Helena is here as backup, thanks to Claudia’s cleverness, and Myka should not assume (speaking of assumptions) that she even wants to be here. All focus should be on retrieving the artifact. Certainly on that and not on Myka’s (honestly) predictably overexcited blood.

She tries to concentrate on Claudia’s advice (while at the same time trying not to resent her success at being cryptic about it): what’s a bonus, really? Helena’s presence, the sight of her, the apprehending of her impatience, the experience of blood: whatever else may happen, these have been—must be—are!—the bonus.

****

The cab ride is quiet. Myka’s resolve to think only of backup and bonus is dissolving by the second, and she lets words reach her tongue that might start a conversation with Helena about things... but those words don’t escape her lips, for a strand of formality seems to be stiffening Helena’s spine. Does she know how Myka cherished her impatience? Is she attempting to discourage such adoration?

Myka, in regret and relief, follows that more-strict lead.

That’s a bonus too, though, for it turns the ride into unpressured, liminal time, perfect for simply basking in presence. It’s best, Myka is now thinking, to treat this reunion as something that was of course going to have happened. For backup or other professional purposes. Despite the fact that it’s the thank-god fulfillment of recurring, desperate dreams.

However: at one point in the traffic-backed silence, Helena, completely unprompted, turns and smiles at Myka.

Myka smiles back.

It’s a previously missing puzzle-piece slotting into place... yet in its aftermath, Myka finds herself having to push with force against a will to worry over other missing pieces; in particular, she must fight the fret-intensive futility of trying to count them.

****

They find the accounting firm’s lobby spacious but quiet—holiday-low staffing, presumably. Myka asks the receptionist, “Is there someone we can talk to about end-of-year bonuses? Also penalties?”

“I’m a temp,” says the young man. His tone suggests it’s his answer to every query... but then he adds, very quietly, “Unofficially, there’s this one guy...”

That has the ring of “artifact,” so Myka nods, encouraging him.

“Super-vocal about his paycheck the other day. How tiny it was. I mean, he’s the kind of guy you might have theories about what else is tiny, but I—”

“Who was that?” Myka interrupts, even as she feels Helena’s readiness to laugh. Mr. Super-vocal is thus probably not a wielder of an artifact; more likely, one of that wielder’s... victims?

“Bob,” the temp says. “I’m sure he’s got a last name, and I’m sure he thinks everybody should call him ‘Mr. Lastname,’ but my care level? Anyway he’s down the hall—one of the only ones in the farm today. Spite-working. Maybe on his anti-everything manifesto.”

“Down the hall” turns out to be a vast expanse of cubicles: definitely a farm.

Myka says to Helena, “Follow my lead?”

“Always,” Helena says.

It’s a tonally sincere utterance—and in that, admirable—but it’s also manifestly untrue; nevertheless, Myka’s blood decides to believe it, to recognize it as another puzzle-piece. I really need to function, Myka tries to explain to her interior. So if we could climb down just a couple rungs. Like to the cab-ride level, maybe?

Her body refuses the agreement.

Of course.

The occupant of the first inhabited cubicle they find is an over-coiffed middle-aged man who clearly spends far too much time in tanning booths. He’s typing aggressively, as if the force of his keystrokes will power his message. His manifesto?

“Are you Bob?” Myka asks him.

“You better be here about my money,” obviously-Bob says, clearly spoiling for a fight.

Myka finds his demand incongruous—his job has to do with other people’s money, and Myka and Helena are manifestly other people. Who could have money. Fred or otherwise.

“In a way,” she says. She follows up with “We’re from the IRS,” and it’s never not funny for that to be useful. Bob winces, as if she's about to strike him. Also never not funny. “We’ve noted some suspicious discrepancies in end-of-year reporting.”

“You have?” Bob asks. Now he’s avid rather than confrontational.

“Looks like some overreporting. Also underreporting. So you see our concern, particularly about effects on withholding.” She is making this up, as she generally does whenever she has to go actual IRS on someone. Read up on tax law, she reminds herself, as she generally does every time. Not that she’ll ever have the leisure to do that... “What we need to find out is whether it was in error, or if it warrants a full investigation.”

“Nancy Sullivan,” he says, with contempt, the name itself a curse. “She’s the one you should investigate, and then send straight to jail. She’s always been a witch about year-end, but now?  On steroids. Talking about making her list, threatening to mark down people she doesn’t like, including yours truly, as naughty... and then we got our paychecks, and somehow she did it! No idea how she managed to push that garbage through, but I swear you better get her up on some kind of charges!”

He rises abruptly, clutching a slip of paper; his chair topples over behind him. He shoves the paper in Myka’s direction, his knuckles nearing her astonished nose—but in the instant before contact, Helena intervenes, her arm blocking his, stopping his forward motion.

Backup.

Helena plucks the paper from his pushy hand. “And what’s this?” she asks.

A pretty minimal manifesto, Myka thinks initially. But then she replays his screed in her head, and his babbling about Nancy Sullivan resolves into meaningful references; struck by the realization, she very nearly misses his next statement: “My pay stub. She can’t just do this.”

Helena says, “Of course not.” She’s soothing him, her voice a faux-caress. It’s enough to tempt Myka to act out, just to hear it directed her way, even as Helena continues, “But we understand some of your colleagues, to the contrary, received large bonuses.”

His “tanned” skin darkens further. “Guess she thought they were nice. To her. Suck-ups.”

Mya looks a Find out anything else that’s relevant at Helena, who nods. Retreating back to the pre-cubicle hallway—relieved that her nose is intact—she Farnsworths Claudia. She skips the pleasantries, starting with, “A very disgruntled employee says the woman who signs off on bonuses was making a list.”

Claudia chortles. “You’re hilarious. Was she checking it twice?”

“This is my point. We don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with, not yet, but I bet that’s the crux.”

“I should’ve known you weren’t aiming for hilarity. So you really think this is some Santa thing?”

“No. I’m saying words about lists because I think it’s a grocery thing.” Myka wants to shake her fist at the heavens and every deity who occupies it. Occupies them. All the heavens. “Of course I think it’s a Santa thing! I also think it’s Pete’s fault somehow.”

“Just because it’s Christmas? C’mon.”

“Christmas and Ohio?” Myka snorts. “You c’mon. I don’t believe in coincidence.”

“Maybe you should though. For peace of mind?”

“That’s another thing I don’t believe in. Just see if you can find anything about a Santa’s-list artifact, would you?”

“Roger. By the way, how do you like your backup?” She chortles again and disconnects.

“I like my backup like I like the sunrise,” Myka tells the blank Farnsworth screen.

“What about the sunrise?” Helena asks from directly behind her.

Myka wishes the sound of her voice were either more or less startling. She wishes also that she knew exactly how much overhearing had occurred.

“It’s inevitable,” she sighs.

In response, Helena blinks.

They take the elevator to Nancy Sullivan’s office.

In that elevator, which is aggressively mirrored, Myka can’t help but glance repeatedly at herself. So many reflections. You called this into being, thinking about Alice’s mirror before, she accuses. She tries not to focus on how her hair could really stand to be more controlled... she’d focus on Helena instead, but who knows how that would be received? Instead she allows herself one glance, then looks down.

She likes being on the elevator with Helena, though; it’s a space of relative privacy, like the cab. Have they ever before been on an elevator together? Alone or otherwise? She runs through their interactions, fast-forwarding from the Wells house to D.C., Tamalpais to Moscow, Yellowstone, Colorado Springs, Ohio (here Myka trips over the fact that Helena’ s now been to Ohio twice, if only once in physical form), Pittsburgh, Hong Kong...

The review—the speed with which she can conduct it—reminds her of how limited that time has been, so: an elevator ride. Yet another bonus.

“That fellow,” Helena remarks, and Myka looks up again; their eyes meet in the mirror of the elevator’s doors. It’s uncanny, as if they’re both holograms, so Myka turns her body toward Helena, who meets Myka’s actual eyes and continues, “He attempted to make a lewd joke about his willingness and ability to be naughty when it’s called for. I pretended not to understand.”

Myka can’t help it: she snorts. “I bet he didn’t buy that for a second.”

“I have the ability to perform ‘prim’ when it’s called for,” Helena says, and Myka has to acknowledge that statement as good evidence of itself. Then Helena’s face reshapes into a devilish grin as she says, “In a slightly different vein, his quailing at those three letters with which you assailed him? Hilarious.”

“Letters?” A little perverse-quirk makes Myka want to hear Helena say them, though she’s probably not pulling off “disingenuous” in making the request.

Helena seems fine with the perversity, for she obliges: “I,” she begins, then draws out “Aaaaare.” Then, after a beat: “Esssss.”

Myka now herself feels assailed—by how right Helena’s reading her. She tries to step it down with, “I wasn’t aiming for hilarity. I never do. Claudia can vouch.” But she does spend a little moment thinking about the context of that previous assailing: we’re from the IRS. We are here, together, from an agency. We, together, represent. It isn’t by any means everything Myka would have wanted... but it’s something: part of this bonus. “Fred,” she says, sotto voce.

The office they’re seeking is on the building’s highest floor, suggestive of Nancy Sullivan’s bonus-approving rank; it features several large windows, one of which affords the office a view of the hallway, and vice versa. Through it, Myka and Helena watch a woman, presumably that powerful Nancy Sullivan, writing with a quill-esque pen.

“It’s the pen,” Myka says, because it has to be. “It’s always the stupid pen.”

“Always?” That’s unusually tentative, like Helena’s trying not to step.

“Okay, once,” Myka concedes. “My dad and Poe and a pen, and as a result I’ve developed a severe aversion to those quill things.”

Helena takes a beat. Then: “I never liked feather pens.”

“Are you just saying that,” Myka says, because she might be, and she might admit it, and that might be good or bad or something else Myka has no way of evaluating. Why does Helena say words like this? And for that matter, why does Myka keep spending her limited time on this planet trying to parse them?

“Yes? In that I’ve... said it?”

That really didn’t help with any of the whys. “I mean, just to make me feel better?”

Helena shrugs. “The fact is, today’s ballpoints et cetera are far more reliable. Does that make you feel better?”

She’s playing at being obtuse—surely that’s for a reason? But Myka has no time to wonder further, for Helena is knocking on the office door and opening it without waiting for an invitation, and the real retrieval is underway.

Myka flashes her badge. “I’m Agent Myka Bering, and this is Helena Wells. We’re from the IRS.” She glances at Helena—all these glances!—and gets a small smirk in response.

Rather than introducing herself, the woman says, “Really? I bet that’s not true.”

“Why?” Myka asks. Have she and Helena, over the course of the elevator ride, lost their ability to perform “official” correctly?

“I have a feeling you’re here for this,” Nancy Sullivan says, and she lofts the pen, waving it like a wand. “Mostly because I also have a feeling that I want to close my fist around it, punch my way past both of you, and make my escape.”

Well. “That’s self-aware,” Myka says. “Unusually so.”

“Thank you? Although it’s less self-awareness than kind of a... sixth sense.”

Helena raises an eyebrow at Myka. “Sixth sense aside, we appreciate your good sense to refrain from attempting to punch your way past us. That would have ended poorly.”

“I wish I’d had the good sense not to use this pen,” Nancy Sullivan says.

“Is there a reason for your wish?” Helena asks. She sounds, to Myka’s ears at least, like a recently summoned, slightly flummoxed genie.

“Because of how much I liked using it—particularly when I realized nobody was going to question anything. I signed off on all these orders, and it was like...” she trails off. Then she concludes, “Magic.”

To keep her talking, Myka prompts, “Was it?”

“Having the power to reward good people has been fantastic,” Nancy Sullivan continues, “but penalizing the awful ones? I mean I’ve sort of resented feeling compelled to use the word ‘naughty’ about them, because that’s way out of character for me. But other than that? Utterly spectacular.”

“Bob,” Helena suggests.

“Oh, god, you met him?”

Helena offers a dry “Alas.”

Nancy Sullivan’s smile is as dry as Helena’s tone, astringently vindictive. “I could not have been more thrilled to hit him and everybody like him where it hurt... I admit I’ve always been kind of judgmental, but wielding this pen? Intensified. Like, the hates are more. In particular, the hates are more. I’m not saying the Bobs of this company didn’t deserve what I did, but I feel it more. Punishment. It’s satisfying, but also weirdly costly. Grinch-in-reverse costly.”

That’s a little on the nose. Myka glances at Helena again, because the satisfactions of punishment, of judgment, even of hate, are among the things they will need to talk about. Maybe. Someday. If they are to have a someday that is theirs... if that is even possible after so much time and tribulation... Myka lets the glance grow into a gaze, a resting regard, and it stays that way until Helena, too, glances, with the result then that their eyes meet and lock... such a clasp, Myka feels, could ground that potential, and potentially necessary, talk of things, if only they were not in the middle of a retrieval...

...which makes Myka think. Why are they in the middle of a retrieval?

“I wish I didn’t feel like I need to articulate this, but where did you get the pen?” she asks. Because she has a niggling sense of something larger happening, something beyond her grasp. Nevertheless, it is not—repeat, not—a vibe.

Fine. It might be a vibe.

“My cousin gave it to me,” says Nancy Sullivan.

“Your cousin,” Myka says. “Whose name is?” Now she’s knows what’s coming, and that has nothing to do with a vibe: no, it is entirely deduction based on experience.

“Pete Lattimer.”

TBC

#bering and wells #warehouse 13 #fanfic #Bonus #holiday (but not Gift Exchange) #proceeding at a vaguely nonzero speed #being left in the dust by snails and tortoises #but I do still love a Myka who fights with herself about who deserves what (and why) #and of course a Helena who can be reasonably inferred to do the same #struggling against the graceful acceptance of gifts #whatever form they take