#i love this character enough to rotate them as they are and try and to dig into all their mental shit
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gumy-shark · 7 months ago
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the worst thing about analyzing a character who is objectively in the wrong and sucks morally is when they’re a popular character and people think that my pointing out the character’s flaws means i hate them. like no i love them!!
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kunikidas-lost-glasses · 2 years ago
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Currently finding backup for a theory on Fyodor's backstory + from where his motive to get rid of all ability users strives from.
My brainstorming already filled two sides of my notebook on that topic and I gotta say, his character is so complex it's amazing. Asagiri's way of writing characters is awesome.
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its-your-mind · 1 year ago
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ALWAYS rotating TAZ: Balance around in my brain like microwave but ESPECIALLY with the announcement of The Suffering Game graphic novel
The dope thing they can do (and are doing) with the graphic novel series is sprinkle in moments of foreshadowing and hints to the reader about what REALLY might be going on here, which is so cool and I’m a huge fan of it, especially when you’re telling a story in this form.
But what is REALLY FUCKING TASTY about Balance as a story is that none of the motherfuckers telling it had any clue what they were doing when they started
Gerblins is dick jokes and not knowing how dice work and making fun of each other for voices. LICHRALLY the scene where Taako grabs the Umbrastaff is immediately proceeded by Clint trying different voices for Merle while Justin begs him to stop, as Taako. Merle gets launched across the room cuz he failed his save, and now Taako has an umbrella. The scene moves on.
Griffin brought them up to the BOB, introduced them to the Director, and gave them memories of a war fought over nameless, lost, powerful but mysterious artifacts. The memory that Taako takes from it is the idea of soured cream (ya know, for his taco quest).
And then they’re off, on different adventures, making friends, saving lives, making more dick jokes, and Griffin is in the background, slowly building in the meta-plot, as all DMs do.
But this meta-plot was HUGE. It was ALL-CONSUMING. It completely changes everything we know about this world and these characters. It takes the moments of dick jokes, and arguments about character voices, and flirting with death, and adds a layer of tragedy and complexity that just wasn’t present the first time they told that story.
AND THAT’S WHY THIS STORY KICKS ASS. The vibe of the story changed as Tres Horny Boys grew closer and closer to remembering the lives they had lost, as Griffin upped the stakes, as people started dying. They still don’t know shit for most of The Suffering Game, but you absolutely could not have predicted the tone of that arc after just listening to Gerblins. It sounds like a completely different story. And so when the other shoe drops, when shit breaks bad, when it’s the end of the world… again, and they have to reclaim their Stolen Century…
It makes sense. The tone has shifted enough to accommodate that kind of change. The characters have grown (back) into themselves enough to make this work.
Because TAZ: Balance is a tragedy. But the tragedy happened before the podcast even started, and had been erased. So of course it started off with goofs and dildo jokes. Of course the three of them started being standoff-ish with each other and making light of every situation that should have had a lot more weight. They didn’t know what they had lost, and we, the audience, didn’t either. So it was easy to laugh and joke… until slowly, it wasn’t so much anymore.
Plenty of people have praised Griffin’s storytelling abilities, but I think the thing that was most impressive to me was how he took the disparate threads laid out behind the Boys on their adventures, and followed them backwards, into the story they had lost, and forwards, into the ending they earned. I fucking love that he settled on Istus as the deity to interact with them, because I don’t think there’s a better representation of the story Griffin was weaving behind the scenes of the arcs.
Story and Song wasn’t really an arc driven by dice rolls and role playing - but it wasn’t railroading either. Griffin took every story they had told, every happy ending they had fought for, and twined them around and through each other. The world was saved not because of a lucky nat 20 roll, but because every person they had helped through the story came out in force to fight beside them to save their world.
And so in the end, the Stolen Century was a tragedy. But The Adventure Zone: Balance was a story of hope, of family, of the power that just a few loveable doofuses can have when they move through the world, making friends and saving lives. So when the world was ending and they needed help, there were dozens of people waiting to hear the Story and the Song that would give them the push they needed to fight, and the hope they needed to win.
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mcmansionhell · 2 years ago
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dome sweet dome
As some of you may know, I have been going to language school for the last few months in order to learn the world's most widely spoken and useful language: Slovenian. At this point, my Slovenian is about as coherent as, well, a McMansion. In order to feel better about myself, I have sought out a McMansion that is worse than my cases and word-order. This house (in Naperville, IL, of course) does, in fact, make me feel better, but will probably make you feel worse:
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This Cheescake Factory house, built in 2005, boasts 5 bedrooms, 8.5 bathrooms and can be yours for the entirely reasonable sum of $3.5 million dollars. Also for some reason all the photos look like they are retouched with 2012-era Instagram filters.
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First of all, trying to visualize the floor plan of this house is like trying to rotate seven cubes individually in my mind's eye. Second, if you stand right beneath the hole in the ceiling you can get the approximate sensation of being a cartoon character who has just instantaneously fallen in love.
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Even if this was a relatively mundane McMansion it still would have made it into the rotation because of the creepy life-sized butler and maid. Would not want to run into them in the middle of the night.
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The mural is giving 1986 Laura Ashley or perhaps maybe the background they use for Cabbage Patch Kids packaging but the floor? The floor is giving Runescape texture.
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Have you ever seen so many real plants in your life? A veritable Eden.
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The overwhelming desire to push one of the chairs into the haunted jacuzzi...but in reality they probably put those chairs there to keep from accidentally falling into the tub at night.
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(elevator music starts playing)
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This is one of the all time [adjective] rooms of McMansion Hell. I personally am in love with it, though I don't think I understand it. Perhaps it is not meant to be understood.....,
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Continuing with the baseball theme, the guy in the painting looks how I feel after it's been raining in Ljubljana for two straight weeks. (Not ideal!!)
And finally:
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We love a house that has four unused balconies and also a sporting grounds that is large enough to build a whole second McMansion on top of. Everyone should so value their health.
Thank you for tuning into another edition of McMansion Hell. Be sure to check out the Patreon for the two bonus posts (a McMansion and the Good House) which both also go out today!
If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including a discord server, extra posts, and livestreams.
Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar, because media work is especially recession-vulnerable.
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lushrue · 5 months ago
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hockeyteam!141 x figureskater!reader pt 3
thank you all a million times over for all your love on this series! comment to be added to the taglist and send some asks my way if you have a scenario that you wanna see these characters in, i eat it up!!
cw: drinking
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8
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price stood at the center of the face-off circle, his stick resting on his knees as he sized up his opponent. it was the third period and the score was tied 2-2. price’s team was on the power play after the visiting team had received a two minute minor for slashing. figured, he thought. they’d been playing dirty all night; the ref just finally saw fit to call them on it. it was two minutes where they had the upper hand, two minutes to take advantage of their strength in numbers. he adjusted his stick in his grip, looking over his shoulder to make sure gaz and soap were in position before turning his attention back to the face off. he inhaled, and on the exhale, the sound of rubber smacking the ice hit his ears.
price gained control, taking the puck down the ice into the opposing team’s zone. he glanced to his left, meeting soap’s eyes before making a pass. soap received it, the puck smacking off his stick as he took up position on his side of the ice. a defenseman skated towards him, poised to try for a steal. but soap was ready. he made quick eye contact with gaz, sending the puck sliding his way. gaz took advantage of the fact that no one was on his ass, taking it and skating ever closer to the opposing goal. price was lined up, ready to go. it was the perfect position for a slapshot straight over the goal line. the goalie wasn’t watching his right flank, still preoccupied with gaz skating towards him. perfect. gaz made the pass, simon smacked the opposing defenseman into the boards to stop his approach, and price swung. the puck slid over the line before the goalie even knew what happened, setting the buzzer blaring.
through it all, you were watching in the stands. their coordination on the ice was enough to show you why they were first line, why laswell trusted them more than anyone else to get the game started on the right foot and to end it just as smoothly. you were one of the first on your feet after the goal, shouting and clapping. soap skated past price, giving him a congratulatory knock on the helmet as gaz held up his glove for a fist bump. simon gave price a thump on the back, skating behind him as they returned to the bench. “good shot, cap,” he shouted over the music, stepping off the ice as the second line stepped in to relieve them.
you smiled and waved as soap turned to meet your eyes. you’d taken to sitting right behind the bench, making your presence known to them rather than blending into the crowd like you’d done before. soap winked before nudging kyle, who tapped simon’s helmet, who elbowed price. soon, all four sets of eyes were on you. you blushed under the weight of their collective gazes, but managed to collect yourself enough to give them two thumbs up. price chuckled, nodding his head in thanks at your gesture. soap tugged his helmet off, the sweat making the longer strands of his mohawk stick to his forehead. “come out with us after tha game!” he called, his voice slightly muffled by the plexiglass. you didn’t even hesitate. “yeah, ‘course i will!”
it was a handy victory after that, simon managing to eke out a goal of his own before the game was over. this win would move them up in the league rankings, signal to everyone else that they’re a force to be reckoned with. with an ever-rotating roster of fresh blood, rebuilding years were bound to happen. but now they were on the rebound, and it felt better than any vice they indulged in. 
that wasn’t going to stop them tonight, though. the four of them stepped out of the locker room to find you waiting, your coat draped over your arms. your eyes were glued on your phone, a familiar crutch to pass the time. the moment you heard soap and gaz’s jovial chatter, your head snapped up, meeting the eyes of your victorious men. you flashed them a smile and a little wave, closing the distance between all of you. “that was a really good game tonight,” you said sincerely, your eyes flicking between the four of them. it wasn’t just a win for one of them, it was a win for all of them. you wanted to make sure they all felt properly congratulated.
“thanks, dove,” price replied, a smile of his own threatening to show through. usually, his mind was racing with thoughts of how they could improve, what they could’ve done better. but not tonight. tonight was for celebrating, and he wasn’t going to let his overactive mind get in the way of that. gaz chimed in, putting his hand on price’s shoulder. “well, it helped havin’ our good luck charm in the stands. didn’t it, cap?” his pointed glance settled on you as price chuckled, your cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink. their good luck charm. how about that? “good point, kyle,” price said. the weight of their eyes boring into you threatened to overwhelm you, like the tide overtaking the shore.
thankfully, johnny’s scottish brogue broke the tension. “did’ja see my assist in the second period, bonnie?” he asked, shouldering past gaz to be closer to you. you couldn’t help but laugh a little, nodding at him as you clutched your coat a little closer to your body. “yeah, i did,” you reply. you also hadn’t missed the way he skated with more gusto after that, knowing that you’d seen him. “it was impressive. you all work so well together out there.” simon finally made his presence known, shifting on his feet beside price. “yeah, we’ve worked really hard to get ourselves there,” he said, sounding proud of the progress they'd made as a team. you notice kyle and johnny exchange a glance, but you can’t quite read it. there’s something there under the surface, something that goes beyond the game.
before you can spare it a second thought, price places his hand on your shoulder, guiding you out the doors of the ice rink. “c’mon, dove. we’ll take my truck.”
it’s around your third mixed drink that you start to get a little more comfortable.
they’ve paid for the last two rounds for you, indulging whatever fruity concoction you find yourself craving. they took you to the one good bar for miles where the air was free of stale cigarette smoke and depression. the five of them weren’t the rowdiest table by far, but they were holding their own. the boys carried on their own conversations in the background, chattering loudly about the game. as you sip at your vodka cranberry, your attention is on kyle’s phone screen as he swipes through pictures of his family. “and tha’s my brother, steven. he’s got a wife and kid. haven’t seen ‘im in a while, they live kinda far.” soap nudges him, causing his phone to nearly tumble into his pint of guinness. “don’ bore the poor lass,” he says, his words already starting to slur a little. johnny was drinking whiskey, which hit a little harder than the beers that his teammates were nursing. no wonder he was on his way to being three sheets to the wind.
you blush and shake your head, giving kyle a reassuring glance. “it’s not boring, i promise. i like getting to know you all. it’s what friends do, right?” friends. you hadn’t stopped to think about it before, but you supposed you’d fully entered friend territory with all of them. you’d come to watch them play multiple times now, and they’d come and watched you skate. not only that, they’d stayed for both your programs and stuck around when the final rankings were posted. mere acquaintances didn’t do that. 
your words seemed to strike some chord in each of them as the hum of their side conversations abruptly stopped. you caught price smirk over the rim of his glass as he took a swig of his drink, his posture confident with his shoulders back and chest forward. johnny looked at you like you’d hung the moon and stars just for him, but only for a moment. kyle’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, like he hadn’t expected you to perceive them as friends. and simon, as usual, was hard to read, but you were getting there. there was a tightness in his expression that spelled unease to you. you faltered, opening your mouth to backtrack before price waved a hand to cut you off.
“nah, the bird’s right, johnny. guess we should know some things about each other if we’re gonna be friends.” his smirk remained, his eyes now fixed on you. maybe it was the alcohol talking, but you could swear you saw a glint of hunger in his eyes. you swallowed, desperate to ignore the electric thrill that struck your core. “why don’t you start us off, love? we wanna know more ‘bout ya,” he said, leaning back against the booth seating and staring you down expectantly. you clear your throat and take another long drink from your glass. you’d need some liquid courage for all this.
“well, i’ve been skating since i was little. i’ve loved it for as long as i can remember.” the memories brought a smile to your face. you recalled sitting in front of the television set, cross-legged as you watched the figure skaters dance on the ice in your ballerina dress. your dad sat next to you, telling you that that could be you someday. you certainly hadn’t competed in any olympics, but you were proud of the level you’d achieved. johnny chuckled, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. it sent a bloom of warmth through you and your cheeks flushed crimson. “somethin’ besides the ice, bonnie,” he said playfully. “we wanna know you, not the skater.”
you composed yourself quickly after being startled at his touch, settling into the casual display of affection. glances were once again exchanged, but this time, it was price and simon. “umm…my favorite color’s green,” you said, looking between johnny and kyle for approval, to see if this was what they wanted. when you got a nod in reply, you decided to continue. you told them about your favorite foods, family vacations, the artists that were on heavy rotation in your car radio. they seemed to hang on your every word, letting the aura of you seep into their bones so they’d never forget it.
the more you drank, the more you talked. so price kept the drinks flowing.
kyle drove you home in price’s truck, your swaying body sandwiched between ghost and soap. johnny had an arm around your shoulders to keep you steady and simon had his hand on your arm for comfort. you’d been drunker in your life, but you certainly had a good thing going. all this contact from attractive men was only fueling the fire, butterflies stirring in your belly that weren’t born of alcohol. you muttered things you knew you wouldn't remember in the morning, something about how warm their bodies were and how good they looked in their pads and gear. they were gentlemen, of course. their touches remained innocent as they walked you to your door and made sure you got in safely, staying until they heard the lock click. they had to be satisfied that you were secure for the night.
as the four of them piled back in the truck and headed back down the road, it was simon who broke the silence first. “we gotta have her, yeah?” he said, his voice a rumble that harmonized with the engine. kyle and johnny didn’t respond, looking to their captain for a response. ultimately, he made the final call. price hummed, his head falling back against the headrest of the passenger seat.
“yeah, think we do.”
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taglist: @cadotoast @jupiternighties @hxnneydew
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shalotttower · 4 months ago
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The Art of Disappearing (part 1)
Title: The Art of Disappearing Fandom: Resident Evil Village Characters: Lady Dimitrescu x Reader (female) Summary: Lady Dimitrescu enjoys wine; you enjoy living. You pray to god those don't overlap. Word count: 1800+ Notes: mentions of death, implied torture and violence, NSFWish, WINE Part 2
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Hiding in plain sight is a skill honed by necessity here.
Melt seamlessly into the decor of drapes and velvet curtains until you're indistinguishable from them. Become wallpaper with eyes that stare and mouths that don't open, and arms that only pick, and pass, and scrub, and fold.
You're not the girl who was locked in the cellar last week.
You're not the girl who dropped a plate yesterday.
You're not the girl whose blood got so deep into the dining room rug that it's better off being burned.
You want to say that you won't be that girl, but you can't promise anything anymore except that dinner is at 6 o'clock every evening unless stated otherwise by Lady Dimitrescu. Your schedule revolves around hers entirely, like planets rotating around their dying sun, even if it's not your shift. There's no such thing as a day off in the castle.
But there're such things as a quiet day, or a normal day, or a bad one.
Today is a bad one.
Lady Dimitrescu's favourite lipstick is missing.
It's a very rare, expensive shade, like the red shell of a ladybug, or the last breath of a maiden. Your ears pick up the word being murmured from one maid to another ��� 'if anyone sees the item, return it to the Lady's vanity immediately'.
You hope that someone finds it soon. Nobody here is dumb enough to steal, so it's probably forgotten somewhere. But you don't say it of course, because Her Ladyship doesn't forget anything and you still need your tongue intact.
---
Lady Dimitrescu likes wine; you enjoy living.
You pray that the two never overlap.
So far luck has been on your side — for six months now you've been working in the castle. You've cleaned stains from carpets and floors without asking what they are (because it was clear even without questions); polished silverware until you could see yourself reflected in them and arranged flowers countless times to learn which ones Lady favors over others.
You were a mouth that didn't speak and eyes that saw nothing. A piece of furniture with legs and arms.
As long as you do your job and keep a low profile, you're safe. Humans thrive in delusion, and so do you. It keeps you sane, what an oxymoron that is.
---
At three in the afternoon, you clean the bathrooms.
Bela is the neatest among the three, and Cassandra leaves everything scattered around for maids like you to collect and place where it's supposed to be. Daniela is... unique. You're not sure how she manages to get stains and fingerprints on such random surfaces. Sometimes you wonder if she does it on purpose.
Daniela loves fun surprises.
Like sneaking up on you when you're on your knees, scrubbing the tub. She pokes your shoulder. "Hiya."
Your heart drops into your stomach.
"Lady Daniela," you greet while trying not to let your hands shake under the apron.
She's smiling sweetly today, like she didn't just scare ten years out of you. You're not fooled and know better than to trust that expression. Nothing in this castle is innocent and saccharine and nice. Especially not the daughters.
"Can I help you with anything, my lady?"
Please say "no" and leave.
Daniela rocks on her heels then leans forward, inspecting your work.
"Maybe. Maybe not."
She's bored, you realize. Great. Bored means unpredictable behavior, and unpredictable behavior means trouble for everyone else who isn't Daniela herself. You wait for whatever she wants — entertainment? food? — patiently despite the churning in your gut.
"I'm bored," she announces.
"Yes, my lady."
"Let's play a game. Hide and seek, like little ones."
Six months have yet to make the instinctive urge to flee within you die out whenever one of them wants something from you directly. You'd think that this whole time might've increased your chances of survival, but humans thrive in delusion. In reality, everything is a gamble here. An embroidery of chance and circumstances that determines if you will live another day, that's all.
"I would be honored, my lady."
The bathrooms must be finished by five, and it's almost four. You're not going to make it on time.
"Who is going to hide first?" You ask after a moment.
Daniela claps. "Well you, of course, silly!"
Of course.
---
Hiding in plain sight is a skill honed by necessity here. Melting seamlessly into the decor of drapes and velvet curtains.
But you're not a vase or a coat rack. You're just a girl who's been in the castle for a while and has gotten good at being invisible. You can't hide your heart beat. Your scent and the warmth of your skin are impossible to erase.
"Ready or not, here I come!" Daniela's sing-song voice carries from the other end of the west wing, and then fades.
She didn't count to ten. You know because you've been counting along, just to have an idea of how much time there's left until she finds you. There're no harbored hopes about the opposite happening. Hide and seek is one of Daniela's favourite games, and she dedicates herself to it thoroughly, with great interest.
It's not about winning the game — that much you realized early on when she played against other maids, plucking one out and chasing her around the castle before dissolving into flies with a cackle.
It's about the entertainment good enough to satiate her.
You're not the most agile, not the fastest. Even after six months your knowledge of the castle's layout is patchy, but you try to think logically. What places will she check last? What will Daniela expect you to choose?
Closets are off limits. So is the library, unless you want Bela on your tail as well.
Your mind wanders.
There're so many rooms in this castle that you haven't seen once during all of your shifts. You're always cleaning hallways, sometimes the daughters' parlors, and nothing more.
Down the stairs, past the servant quarters, is a place where rumors are born. Of thick barrels stacked to the ceiling like dominoes and wine in various stages of production. It smells sour-sweet down there — like fruit rotting in August.
Wine that never runs out in Dimitrescu castle as long as there're maids.
That's what others say, at least. Nobody has come back to confirm.
Would she look in the cellar? Would anyone?
It's the last place you'd search if you were looking for someone insignificant and replaceable.
You take off your shoes so that your steps don't echo in the expanse of marble and stairs.
---
There're all kinds of things down here. Broken furniture that's been tossed aside for disposal, boxes and crates of unidentified items, old paintings of people you don't recognize.
And wine.
A lot of it in barrels and bottles, some of which are labeled, some aren't. You walk past them, following the corridors of dusty brick. The air smells like mold and fermentation, damp. It reminds you of the lakeside by your grandmother's cottage in summertime and you feel strangely nostalgic.
You miss home.
The thought is dangerous and you quickly push it away, back to where it belongs — in your memories. Home doesn't exist anymore.
Time passes. Minutes go by without the sounds of buzzing swarms or doors creaking open somewhere nearby. No voices either, except for your own breathing and heartbeat that fill up every corner of silence. You find a nook between the stacked barrels and settle there with your knees pulled to your chest.
The place is colder, uncomfortably so. Cool ground sends its chill through your stockings.
You've done everything you could. Found a good hiding spot, a perfect one, and it's out of your control from here on.
The art of disappearing is simple: be nothing and wait until time decides if you're worth staying like that or not.
---
Daniela finds you after your legs start to numb from sitting.
"Found you," she grins from ear to ear.
Her flies settle as she solidifies into flesh with a giggle, girlish and mischievous. It could be cute if not the bloody smudges around her mouth and chin. She crouches down in front of you, close enough for you to see the specks of gold in her eyes.
"Congratulations, Lady Daniela."
Your fingers dig into your skirts.
Daniela tilts her head; a fly crawls on her cheek before taking off. "I win! I get my prize now."
You didn't know you were playing for a prize. But nobody tells you anything in this castle until it's too late, like that you're not supposed to open windows in winter, or that you can't touch Daniela's books because she has them organized alphabetically.
"What would you like, my lady?"
Another fly lands on your lips, a thick creature with translucent wings and little fuzzy legs. They tickle but you resist the urge to make a face lest she takes it as an insult. At your question her expression turns impish, one of those you never fail to associate with trouble.
She reaches into your apron's pocket... and pulls out a lipstick.
You stare at it — a simple elegant tube with a golden cap.
"Look what I found!" Daniela waves it in front of your face like it's a toy.
Your blood freezes over. How did it end up there? You've been working for hours today yet you don't recall ever picking it up off anywhere. Where-
"My lady, I didn't take it!" you blurt out in horror, when it dawns on you. "I swear, I wouldn't! I would never-"
Daniela blinks owlishly and then breaks into laughter, clutching her stomach. Her smile is so wide that you can see her gums stained with coagulated blood which makes your stomach turn. The flies swarm and dissipate around you both, disturbed by her unrestrained mirth.
"Silly," she interrupts your stammering. "I know! You should've seen your face!"
Oh thank god.
You're so relieved that for a second all air leaves your lungs.
"...you tricked me?" you ask quietly after a moment, a bit more composed now when the accusation of theft doesn't hang over your head.
"Mhm," Daniela nods and wipes tears from her eyes, still giggling.
You're not sure if it was funny to anyone except her.
Her smile lessens gradually and eventually vanishes from her lips altogether when the initial amusement wears off. Something coy appears in her demeanor, sheepish even, as she fiddles with the lipstick in silence.
"Can you put it back in mother's vanity?" she grabs your hand suddenly and places it into your palm.
That's when you realize that you never even once questioned where she got it from. But Daniela gives you a pout with a warning look, like she's able to tell exactly what you're thinking. All questions die instantly on your tongue; you nod.
"Yes, my lady. Of course."
"Good," she pats your knee. "Don't forget! Or I'll eat you."
Flies descend onto your skirt, buzzing around Daniela's fingers until she disappears into dozens of black insects.
You know that she meant every word.
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cloveroctobers · 3 months ago
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RODEO — Javi Rivera.
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A/N: got the chance to see twisters on my birthday and it ofc inspired me to finally write something for Anthony lol. This isn’t going to be anything big since I still want to be on break until late September early October. Am I going to give Javi the love his deserves or am I going to be messy? What type of summer is it? A brat girl summer…whatever that means 😉
WARNINGS: language + stepping out of relationships, mentions of another character from challengers, reader and Kate don’t get along, mentions of minor smut/sexual relations, and ended up different than I originally planned. Enjoy!
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚
A text on short notice never bothered you.
Granted you had to take a ride from Brooklyn to Manhattan but majority of the time Javi was considerate, letting you know when he was going to be on your new side of town—you were a South Carolina native—and the both of you would make it work. He had this experiment that he worked on with his old friend Kate that actually proved to work this time and with some other guy that had the widest laughter lines you’ve ever seen. A classic cowboy—you deemed him as—that looked awfully familiar when you met him in passing at a dinner you didn’t know you were “imposing” in on.
Kate’s words not Javi or the cowboy’s.
The trio were going back and forth to the city, mostly Kate and the cowboy you learned to be named Tyler but once Javi learned you were in the city too? (Apparently Kate found a home in New York also, working in Mahattan after what went down in Oklahoma five years ago.) He had no problem trying to get to you. You learned that Kate didn’t approve of what you two had going on (Javi let it slip one night as he smacked on some chips and you sipping on some terribly made Kombucha around the outside of the usual meet up spot once he touched down in NY), considering that you were engaged to someone else and that someone was slowly rising in the public eye, Patrick Zweig…you may or may not know him.
Tyler did.
To keep it short, this wouldn’t be the first time that you didn’t give a fuck about what Kate Carter had to say about you. Back in college the both of you tried to get along but it’s just the common case of two people not being able to mesh well. You didn’t appreciate how Kate always felt like she was right, sure the girl was crazy intelligent but she didn’t enjoy your sarcasm or want to listen to your opinions on anything, she found your lack of drive for storm chasing to be confusing on why you bothered to hang out with the group when that was their sole connection, and didn’t understand the relationship you had with her boyfriend, Jeb who was actually your friend first and you were the one who introduced them at a party—it was childish sure but even years later you didn’t need her judgment.
Which is why you and Javi were always discreet. Moments with your college friend in the present never felt like enough but reminded you that you often wondered what it would have been like if you had a different ring on your finger given to you by someone else. Javi always made it his mission to take it right off, slamming it in the drawer beside the bed before interlocking his fingers right with yours as he rocked you into the temporary mattress.
That never lasted long since you loved to be on top. Just ask Tyra’s problematic self! And who was Javi to say no, having you above him like this? like the true goddess that loved to be in control, you never left his mind, even when he struggled to keep his eyes open at the rotation of your hips. His fingertips would leave bruises but you never complained, you liked him leaving marks. Javi felt like this should be wrong, of course he cared about you, maybe even more than that, always did but he had his head turned in a different direction once upon a time. He wasn’t sure if your feelings were genuine or just something to pass the time but he was the first person you told that you didn’t want to marry Patrick after accepting his proposal.
People pleasing was never something that you often did so why were you settling for a man who was fucking around with not only his ex but some strangers on tinder? Javi did his research on your fiancé, some tennis athlete that didn’t have the best stats which was odd since it seemed like he was in his prime in college, Javi would give him credit on that, it was evident that this Patrick guy knew how to play yet something was missing in his gameplay. It was also safe to say that Javi didn’t think Patrick was even your type to be honest…but maybe you had other people in your head too much about where you should be in life.
When it was time to have those deep conversations, like you were nineteen again, present you didn’t want to hear it majority of the time with your fingers in his curls and another hand feeling a part of Javi that was always ready for you. Javi always cursed himself for folding every time you got your hands on him, he wanted to know what was going to become of this relationship but he couldn’t help it.
A piece of your heart was okay for a little while.
There was something about you that he never wanted to let go. You weren’t with the crew when that tornado touched down in Oklahoma that day, you got into an argument with Jeb that day for putting you on the back burner for their project, and as usual Javi checked in on you the best that he could since he was also part of the experiment. You brushed it off like you always did, tired of being the main one to put your frustrations out there; since you were basically the black sheep to the group and clocked into your shitty part time job with Javi promising that he would come check you out once they were done out there. The aftermath of it all also whipped through the friendship that was once there. There was tension no doubt, misdirected anger of course, your unresolved feelings for Jeb, Javi wishing he could have been at two places at once—as if he could have saved his friends from something so destructive with just his two hands. Kate became a ghost, you actually didnt have much to say to her like you thought you would, she was a walking frostbite, with a limp so prominent, disconnected, and leaving a numbing coldness trail behind her everywhere she went the longer she stayed in Oklahoma. It was sad because you knew she had to witness it all and that would forever haunt her.
Unfortunately that bitterness gave you joy. Javi dropped out of college but you kept at it, to distract you from the what if’s along with the great loss and when he thought the military was his best option, you tried to beg him to stay with a kiss that wasn’t the answer to your shared pain. He’s done the dissociating shit before as a way of grieving, he just hoped that you being with him now wasn’t your way of escaping whatever you were still running from.
Storm chasing wasn’t really your thing, don’t think you didnt try but Kinesiology and bull riding was more of your passion. Javi liked to trace and kiss those scars on your body because of that old hobby when you allowed him to hold you afterwards but he had them memorized just like you with his freckles. Yet you still kept coming around which really confused Kate but you got along with everyone else for the most part. The dance parties and stick and poke tattoos with Addy, the 150 questions the hypochondriac Praveen had for you about body horror stories he caught himself reading and watching! And wanting to know what proper care he would have (as if you were suddenly a doctor and not a kinesiology major) to take if that ever happened to him—getting struck by lighting wasn’t enough to get him to stop storm chasing but it was his life and he lived it how he wanted, and then there was Jeb. You used to be able to catch each other’s eyes from across the room and send each other ridiculous facial expressions before carrying on and eventually finding each other later. The shift in your friendship changed once you got left outside of the team. You began to connect with party-man Javi once Jeb started to slip away and build something more with Kate.
It’s always funny how that works out in friend groups isn’t it?
Coming in sync was always something you made your priority. Knowing Javi’s ticks and studying not only his face but his body always made you kick it up a notch, just crossing a boundary that you knew he would try to tap out but you proved to know his body better than he did himself and Javi honestly wanted to hate you for it but couldn’t.
He didn’t think anybody could lock you down—not even your fiancé—and it was something he always thought of when you put your back to him and let him to hold you while you briefly checked your phone.
No new messages from the Fiancé!
Javi peeped.
This Patrick guy didn’t give a fuck about you, just liked having a place to rest his head in instead of his car that you probably paid majority of the rent on. That’s right, Javi always remembered your blabbering once you had too many aperol spritz and what seemed to open you up more on a personal level lately.
“Want something from the café downstairs?” You asked, turning your phone face down to peek back at Javi who was still panting.
Javi slowly blinked, lifting his head in search of the alarm clock to find out what time it is.
[1:40 am]
You were making it your mission to try everything at least once on the menu every time Javi flew in. It was your usual hotel with a delicious café and you just about finished everything on the lunch and dinner menu except for two items that didn’t seem that appetizing to you. This time around you snuck up behind Javi and his laptop while he was downstairs about to dig into one of the dinners he wouldn’t share with you at one of the high rise tables…you were onto the breakfast menu.
He slips his free arm to caress the bone by your ear, “I want you.”
You snort, “I’ll give you another round when you can handle it, preferably in the shower since I’m meeting the girls at 8 for hot yoga. Breakfast can come as early as 6.”
The freckled face man fought the urge to roll his eyes at this. Since when the hell were into hot yoga of all things? The rough around the edges person seemed to be morphed into something else but Javi knew you were still in there somewhere. Don’t get him wrong, Yeah people grow and you’re into what you want to be into but he would have never guessed you hanging out doing yoga or brunch or even having a routine. Maybe axe throwing but he guessed he better be thankful for the yoga since you seemed to be more flexible every time the both of you tried a new position.
Javi tossed in, “is your bitch of a soon to be husband, Patrick joining in on that session?”
You quirk up a brow at this energy but don’t work to defend him, “…never mix business with pleasure.”
Which meant that you never brought multiple parties into your relationship together. He did his thing and you did yours. Patrick was never faithful to you, you knew it and Javi knew it too, you couldn’t be upset about it because you never truly wanted to marry him. There was no wedding date set because frankly the both of you were still young and trying to figure it out. It was selfish since you were still holding out hope that Patrick will actually make something of himself but you both weren’t sure if you even liked each other besides having nightcaps or getting people off your backs when you were seen together. The both of you were lonely, him more than you—if you wanted to make it a competition but it’s what worked and it didn’t need to make sense. It just made Patrick’s family (who were a lot to handle and always kept referring to two of his exes before you in front of you) happy that he had a “stable” person in his life for once and it got your parents off your back—some—but not without their own sly comments.
“Is that what your relationship is?”
You shrug, “yeah.”
“And what about us?”
You turn your face away to reach for the card, “i think you’ll like the BLT French toast or even the prosciutto toast—
He nudges your face back to meet his sunlit honey eyes and there wasn’t an ounce of humor in them. “Listen, I’m serious. We got too much history to keep downplayin’ this. I’m moving back to Miami by the end of the summer and I just want to know how much longer we’re gonna keep doing this. Is this only just sex for you or what?”
Javi’s thumb burns into your skin now and his stare is sharp. You try not to get lost in his eyes and the tightness in your chest isn’t the most pleasant. You’re scared and have been scared before with Jeb but there’s no risk without action. Or whatever it is they say.
“…if you’re in love with me, just say that.”
Javi blinks, “What I know is that you won’t be marrying Patrick Twig—
“That’s not—
“I’m not done.”
Javi ignores the tilt of your head at his command, “You’re better than this and I know you see that when you look in the mirror. Maybe you didn’t fully heal yet and that’s not me tryin’ to disrespect you or nothing but I’m just callin’ it like I see it. I could give you the world besides just this or shit, as least try to but only if that’s what you want because I know what you need and it definitely ain’t a bozo who can’t even take care of what he thinks is his.”
You can always count on Javier Rivera to tell you exactly how it is. He was on your case about your feelings for Jeb just like you were with his with Kate but that all changed once the two started dating. It would have made sense for the both of you to gravitate towards each other then but the need to compensate for what you both missed out on wasnt fulfilling that void with forced love. It was platonic then but what was it now?
“…Do you think I’m yours?”
Javi puffs out a breath at this, “respectfully, imma need you to stop answering me with questions and just be honest with yourself and me. I don’t know how much longer I can keep holding out.”
“But you don’t, not unless I say so anyways.” You wink reaching to caress the back of his shoulder blade but Javi isn’t budging, which makes you sigh, “…okay fine. I hear you, you don’t want to be in a situationship with me anymore.”
Javi nods and awaits for you to say more but the glazed over look in your eyes, tells him that you’re trying to get out of this and he won’t lie, it stings.
“Here’s the thing,” you start with an intake of breath, “you’re right, I’m probably never going to marry Patrick. We’re equally each other’s placeholders, as fucked up as it sounds it’s true. As for this…”
Javier swallows the lump in his throat, just waiting on you to break his heart.
“You’re not the first person to pull this. It’s not my first rodeo…and no that doesn’t mean I’ve been with anyone else outside of you. I wouldn’t do that, not to you. You’re too important.” You admit, “and if we’re gonna do this…I just need you to be patient with me.”
A grin splits onto Javi’s face then, “so that does mean you love me?!”
“…I didn’t say all that.”
He smooches your cheek multiple times that makes your nose crinkle, “you didn’t have to, I can just tell.”
“How?” You ask as he rests his head back on the cloud-like pillow beside yours.
Javi hums, “I’m real in touch with my feminine side you know? Raised by my mom and aunties, got a sister that really wants to meet you—
“Huh? What?”
“Baby steps though,” Javi promises seeing the smidge of panic in your eyes, “I just need more confirmation that you’re going to try this with me. And that you’re not gonna run away since that is kinda what we all do.”
It was your turn to be vulnerable like Javi knew you could be. So you turn to face Javi, face to face and take a moment. “…I can’t say that I’m not scared and not of you but just the idea of actually being loved more than the intimacy and I’m sure you’re more than capable of giving that to me…it’s just that I get in my head a lot.”
Javi nods, “well it’s okay to be scared…Rome wasnt built in a day. We’ve been diligent—
“What if this doesn’t work—
“Nah, we’re not gonna back out when we just started.” Javi slips his hands down to clasp your hands in his, “We keep going, we love, we share—
“Just like your sandwich last night?”
Javi snorts, “we’re all works in progress, don’t hold that against me, baby.” He pecks your hands while you laugh a little, “we do what feels right and I got to ask, does this feel right to you as it does for me?”
You press your forehead against his, “every time I’m with you it does…as much as I try to block you out when we’re away from each other…I can’t. I wont.”
Javi pulls back to kiss your forehead, “bet. Feelings mutual and i just needed to hear you say it so…now that we’re on the same page…go ahead and order me that prosciutto and meet me in the shower.”
He’s kicking the covers back as you sit up on your elbow, “I’m not debating over which asscheek of yours is bigger than the other again.”
Javi sucks his teeth as leans against the doorway of sliding bathroom door in all his naked glory, “you pointed that out, I just wanted to know if the freckles on my left asscheek were also shaped like a palm tree like the ones on my chest.”
Scrunching up your nose, you hold your hand up in the air as if that defense was any better. Javi’s laughter suddenly turns dark as he takes in your appearance and slowly steps back as something stands to your attention.
“So…you joinin’ me or are you just going to continue watching the show?” He points behind himself, slowly stepping back.
Sighing you fold your arms back behind you, “ah…I’ll think about it finster.”
Javi sucks his teeth, stomping right back into the room to yank the tight hotel sheets back from the bed making you hiss at the coolness of the AC. “No way you just compared me to a rugrat.”
He pulls you right into his arms, limbs locking around him easily as you toy with the ends of his curls as he spins you around to lead you right into the bathroom, “did I?” You tease, bumping your nose against his before pulling back, “wait! You didn’t let me order.”
“Guess we’re skipping breakfast now and you might be late to yoga, sorry not sorry.” He mutters before slamming his lips right against yours.
Your thighs alone clench right around his hips as Javi slips his tongue along the shape of your lips while feeling around for the shower latch.
This time around, as sure as you are of the racing of your heart, you’re willing to let Javi lead this round…for now.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚
read more twisters anthology fics here.
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sanctus-ingenium · 1 year ago
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Just wanted to ask, please forgive me if you've already answred this, what program do you use? Your art fucks HARD and like. I was looking at your art of the two moths over the city they die in and I was hit with the wave of "oh that looks really fucking fun actually." Like i know my art program can't do some of those effects and like, I'd love to try fucking about with them.
hi there, thank you! all my art is done in procreate and paint tool sai
because you mentioned that drawing in particular i thought it would be fun to break it down and show ppl what exactly went into each part of it so check this out
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sketch & lineart - the brushes come from georgbrush.club and the urban sketcher is my most commonly used lineart brush, it has a nice irregular shape. the square brush is nice for big blocky sketches.
the cityscape was REALLY hard but basically I got a photo of the skyline of florence, traced some basic building shapes, then bullshitted the rest using the vertical symmetry/mirror tool to cut down on the amount of work (so i only had to sketch one half of the city). then for lineart I turned off vertical symmetry, turned on the two-point perspective tool, and got this:
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the rose windows were made using the radial symmetry tool.
I didn't like it being so flat, so I used the liquify tool to make a kind of fish-eye effect (limited success tbh). I liked how it looked but the buildings in front needed something to cover them up to make the liquification less obvious...
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first pass colours. I felt they were very washed out, aside from the sun which i loved. I use the spectra brush (default procreate) for skyscapes a lot, I love the texture. Although the clouds were filled in using the lasso selection tool, I softened the edges using the square pencil again and added texture using true grit sampler grainy brushes. The translucency effect comes from my setting the brush as an eraser. The sun rays come from the radial symmetry tool.
Blocking in the moths' colours was done with the urban sketcher again.
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Something people may not have noticed is the labyrinth hidden in the sky! yeah I had a bunch of versions where it was more obvious but I found that it clashed a bit and was too busy, so I made it subtle. But yes. I searched for "royalty free labyrinth" and picked one.
The toner grit brush is one you've seen before if you've looked at any art on tumblr lately (this is such a popular brush) and it's from the true grit fast grit set. The pointillism brush is from the true grit free sampler pack, like my grain brushes.
I added shadows to the moths, increased saturation overall, and changed the clouds to a translucent blue (you can even see in the sun where I forgot to block in the sun itself because the clouds over it used to be opaque lol). Moon rays were drawn using the radial symmetry tool but this time with rotational symmetry off. I also moved the moon down closer to the moths because I felt that it was a bit far away, and this served to visually divide the drawing into three equal parts, so I chose to lean into that and divide the sky colours too, to show passing time, or an endless moment - morning, evening, night, etc.
And then the oroborous, I tried a few different effects on it because I wanted it to be very clearly separate from the main scene - I settled on a dot matrix newsprint texture, using procreate's onboard tool, and some heavy chromatic aberration. This is because the oroborous isn't real, it's purely symbolic and the moths' demise started when they became photographers so I liked the print media aspect there as well. The story itself is about grief without closure, cyclical violence, and sunk cost fallacy, while everyone explores an endless labyrinth, so an oroborous fits I think
what makes art fun to me is thinking up ways I can tell a story using just a single image. and sure a lot of it will be lost to an audience who isn't familiar with the characters or backstory but i want to leave enough in there that even complete strangers to my work will be able to construct a narrative about what's happening here, rather than it just being a cool image. that's my goal.
Finally I exported it to sai on my pc to give it a once-over. this is really important because the retina display on an ipad is oversaturated on purpose, to make everything look amazing and vibrant. but what this means is that on other screens, your work might look washed out. it's especially bad at displaying yellows! so i look at it in sai on my pc and i make minor adjustments, in this case I actually added another multiply layer on the moths and an overlay on their non-shadowed parts to increase the contrast there.
finally if you've read this far, I played a little trick with the caption of the drawing. yeah, THEY die... but only one of those moths is a theythem pronoun haver... the other has to survive. he isn't given a choice in the matter.
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sl-vega · 5 months ago
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Hi there! Recently stumbled upon your Hiori piece (I Don’t Know Much, But I Know I Want You) and Oh. My. Gosh. It’s amazing!! The story was so cute and I also love the little Karasu interactions you threw in; it matches their characters so well and it’s so well written! If you ever feel motivated or inspired to do so, I’d love to see where you’d take the piece in a part 2! No pressure of course, I just think that seeing how they’d interact in your writing would be really awesome. Currently on my way to binge read every other work of yours; I love your writing style o7
Thanks for reading my ask and have a lovely day!! :)
˚୨୧⋆。 MALL MEET CUTES
part one // part two
pairing: Hiori Yo x [FEM!] Reader
genre: fluff, oneshot, classmates to lovers, friends to lovers (?), pre-bluelock au/canon compliant
synopsis: hiori is still pretty damn smitten when it comes to you, so like the lovesick fool he his, he decides to drag karasu to the mall with him to help him find a gift to impress you, of course, in a strange turn of events it turns out you're at the mall too, so whatever shall our poor loverboy do when he sees you? (or in which hiori "soccer genius" yo, is dumb enough to ask karasu of all people for girl advice, and karasu like the wonderful friend he is, tags along for the drama)
CW/additional tags: mild language, potentially ooc, i actually did research on a mall in kyoto so look at me go, might make a part three if i really feel like it
author's note: AKJFJFHAFHKJ TYYY ANON YOU'RE SO SWEET, i'm so glad you liked the first part and all of hiori + karasu's interactions, it really means a lot to me that you thought i did them justice <3
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"Would getting her makeup be a good idea?"
Hiori asked his senior as he stood outside of COLOUR STUDIO, it was a cosmetics store that he heard the girls in his class talk about occasionally , you among them.
"Or would that be too intimate? Do ya' think she'd think I'm trying too hard? Maybe we should've just stuck to stationery...."
Hiori bombarded Karasu with questions as he sighed and stared up at the daunting illuminated white sign of the shop.
His friend groaned and grabbed the sleeve of Hiori's light blue sweat shirt, dragging him into the store where a few employees and clerks gave them slightly concerned looks.
"No, we're here now so we may as well get something."
Karasu chastised his younger teammate as he escorted him into the lip product aisle, in which Hiori found himself surrounded by many unfamiliar brands with colourful packaging.
"Ya' sure know yer' way around Karasu, have ya' been here before?"
"I've been to their branch over in Osaka, my sister makes me get 'er shit whenever she runs out..."
Karasu plucked a small box from the middle of the shelf, making a point to read the label and the brand to make sure it was the one he needed.
"So what are you gonna get yer' special girl?"
He asked teasingly, as his slender fingers clutched around the small container he was holding.
"I dunno actually...I was hoping you might help me?"
Hiori replied, chuckling nervously. He already knew that Karasu had an older sister, so must have some knowledge on these kinds of things.
His teammate seemed to deadpan at his friend's request, feigning a hurt expression at his friend's question.
"So I'm just a personal shopping assistant to ya'? I'm hurt Hiori."
Karasu gave him a playful pout before breaking into a mild fit of laughter after Hiori swatted his shoulder. The older boy promptly turned to one of the shelves and tossed Hiori a small pink tube of lip gloss.
"Get 'er this one, the quality is pretty good and it has a reasonable price."
Karasu said nonchalantly as his back was still turned, still browsing through some of the shelves. Hiori looked down at the product tube and read out the label to himself.
"Canmake Candy Wrap Lip..."
He muttered as he rotated the slender cylinder in his hand, reading the adhesive tag on it, he realized that Karasu was right, the price was within his budget, and the packaging was rather cute, not to mention how the tube itself contained a good amount of product.
He was about to thank his friend before realizing that Karasu was back at the front counter of the store, probably asking one of the employees for help with finding something.
Observing his surroundings, Hiori thought that browsing the shop a little bit more couldn't hurt, he still had plenty of funds to spare, more than enough to buy you something else.
Hiori continued to browse the current aisle he was in, allowing his fingers to brush against the array of cosmetics, all neatly sorted and arranged by brand, type, and flavour.
As he continued to run his hand along the rows upon rows of products, he stumbled across another area of products that caught his eye.
"Rohto Mentholatum Lip Balm..."
He read the mini card board sign that was clipped to the shelf as he observed the packaging. The one's that were currently stocked were said to be peach flavoured, the price seemed fairly reasonable as well.
Now, that he thought about it, having a lip balm on hand would be pretty practical, Hiori hated the feeling of his chapped lips. Plus, he deserved some kind of reward.
Hiori reached for one of the tubes, and right before he was about to take the lip balm from the shelf, his fingers brushed against a stranger's hand who was reaching for the exact some one.
On instinct, Hiori pulled away, muttering a quick apology. He turned to said stranger to say tell them that they could take it before realizing that said stranger wasn't a stranger at all.
"Oh! Hiori?"
Oh God, it was you
"H-hey!"
He managed to squeak out as you gave him a soft smile, he was surprised he hadn't made a complete fool of himself yet. Without realizing it, he had promptly shoved the tube of lip gloss he was going to buy for you into his back pocket.
"Hi! I didn't realize you were the shopping type Hiori."
You greeted him once more as you observed the hand that quickly pocketed the lip tube, you didn't press any further however.
"Oh, I'm not actually, I'm just getting a gift for someone special..."
Hiori chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. He chastised himself for his wording, of course he had to say it like that, now if he gave you the gift you'd know for sure that he liked you.
But then again, that would spare him the humiliation of actually having to say it directly to your face, not that he ever wanted to confess in the first place...
"Someone...special? I didn't know you had a girlfriend Hiori..."
You trailed off, you sounded disappointed almost.
Hiori's face flushed at your words, he didn't mean to give you that idea. He could slowly feel heat creep up his neck as you continued to stare at him.
"Guess I shouldn't be that surprised..."
This time you were avoiding eye contact, you laughed somewhat bitterly. Were you jealous? Part of Hiori wanted to delude himself into thinking that, but another part of him wanted to die right there and then to avoid making a bigger fool out of himself.
"N-No I don't have a girlfriend actually!"
He assured you as his face turned an even brighter shade of red.
Where was Karasu when ya' needed him?
Suddenly, Hiori felt a light tap against his head. It was Karasu! His knight in shining armor, to save him from the train wreck of a conversation. His teammate was holding a small basket full of a few products, some mascara, eye liner, and a few skin cream tubs among them.
"I'm gonna go check out now, are ya' done yet?"
His friend asked as he rested his hand on Hiori's shoulder, Karasu looked up at you, realizing that there was company present.
The silence that followed was deafening.
You glanced between the two boys, you had recalled Karasu from Hiori's youth team, but you didn't know much about the older boy, but you had spotted him hanging around Hiori pretty frequently, so you assumed that they were fairly close.
"Oh, I'm sorry am I interrupting something?"
You questioned as your eyes flickered between the two of them, your head was tilted slightly in curiosity. You noticed Karasu's grip on Hiori's shoulder tighten ever so slightly at the sound of your question.
Hiori shook his head frantically, Karasu was probably giving you that same unsettling stare he always used whenever he was sizing someone up on you.
"No! Not at all! But I should get going right about now..."
He assured you that nothing was wrong, but he was already flustered enough, and there was no way Karasu would let him hear the end of whatever this incident should be labelled as.
"Well I'll see you school I guess!"
You flashed him another bright smile before turning to Karasu, and you gave the older boy a curt and quick bow.
"I'm (Y/N), Hiori's classmate, it's a pleasure to meet you."
Karasu was caught off guard by your sudden politeness, but he returned the favour.
"Karasu."
He stated quickly before taking Hiori's hand in his own, you seemed to take note of this.
You were about to walk away, so you waved to them before saying;
"Have fun on your date!"
Wait what?!
If Hiori's face was red before, it was basically crimson by now. The girl he liked not only thought he was taken, but now she thought he was into guys?!
"W-we're not!-He's not-I'm not-"
Karasu simply wheezed at the current predicament, clearly amused by your assumption of Hiori and him's relationship and by his younger friend's sudden flustered expression.
"I wish! Don't worry yer' pretty little head off though, he's still avaliable∼. He's quite taken with you at that too."
Karasu teased as he winked at Hiori, clearly taking sadistic pleasure in his friend's suffering.
"Karasu!"
Hiori whisper shouted as his friend dragged him out the store, still laughing as the cyan-haired boy continued his flustered protests which bore no fruit.
Well at least you knew how he felt now...
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BONUS!
"This is why I told ya' to quit flirting with me like that! People are getting the wrong idea about us..."
"Aww but I can't have random girls stealing you away from me∼"
"Shut up ya' stupid crow!"
"Make me prodigy∼"
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years ago
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hello! i hope you’re doing well! i would like to request something for alex keller! could you write something about sunshine!alex being absolutely smitten by his girlfriend who’s a grumpy!reader? sorry if this request doesn’t give a lot of ideas. love ur fics btw!!!! <3
Sun and Stars
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Pairing: Alex Keller x F!Reader
Synopsis: Bloodied, the two of you find yourselves alone in a mountainous forest, surrounded by the termite-eaten walls of a lone shack. But Alex always finds a way to make the world brighter.
Word Count: 3.6k
Warnings: Canon typical gore & themes, blood, a teeny tiny bit of angst, lots of fluff, banter, sunshine and grump dynamic
A/N: This is a bit shorter just because I wanna understand Alex's character more - take this as a test fic lmao. Enjoy, Anon!
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
He was peeling back your skin like layers of paint on a canvas, gripping at the dried bits and ripping them to the side. Growling as your teeth sink deeper into your boyfriend's leather belt, your eyes swirl with hatred that you direct to the man kneeling beside your propped-up form; digging the bullet out of your left arm with all the delicateness of a rhino. 
“Stop,” Alex grunts under his breath, “squirmin’ for me.” The tweezers go deeper, trying to find the sweet spot where the metal pellet had dived into your flesh at high velocity. Of course, it had been where the thick kevlar of your vest hadn’t been able to stop it – flew right to the place where the skin was uncovered. 
Alex’s breaths are steady as you stare daggers, minutes away from yanking him off of you and doing it yourself. He was so damn slow, sending concerned glances every other moment with a furrowed brow and concentrated eyes. From under your makeshift gag, there so you won't bite off your tongue, you grumble with pain lacing your barely understandable words.
“Hurry up and get the fuckin’ thing out of me, Alex!” It didn’t sound like that, obviously, but the general heat to your words made – hurrey uh ahn geh tha fuhking thing ou of meh, Ahlex! – clear enough. 
The light-haired man clears his throat, gripping your arm just a little tighter with his blood-stained gloves as his mustache rotates, scrunching his nose. His eyes are locked onto the entry wound, lids scrunched in a way you would have found comedic if you didn’t want to smack him upside the skull. Lord, could he just hurry up?
“I’m gettin’ there, Hon…just quit trying to make my head explode with your mind over there, yeah?” Alex dares to smirk when you take your free hand and slap his heavily tattooed forearm. You’re shaking your head to the side with displeasure that would transcend any barrier known to man.
A velvety chuckle leaves your lover’s lips before he leans close to your shoulder, placing a kiss on the fabric of your shirt in apology as your narrowed eyes don’t let up an inch. He pulls back and continues his exploration of your gaping puncture with focused eyes.
Prick. You chuff through your nose like a cat, fingers twitching in your lap as you fight the pull to bring it into a fist.
Sweat travels down your nose only to plop on your bunched abdomen, and in the back of your throat, you force your esophagus to hold back a whimper of restrained pain. Everything burned like your flesh was being placed on a hot spit – like you were a sheep carcass slowly rolled around and around and around–
“Here we go.” The pressure dissipates at the heavy whisper, and without even realizing it had happened, your head had tilted back into the wall and your eyes had ground themselves shut. Opening them quickly and blinking away the black dots, the soft face of your boyfriend pops into view; beaming as you deadpan up at him. The man holds up the tweezers in one hand, showing off the red-dripping metal almost lazily with a tilt of his head and a raised brow, speaking slowly. “Told ya’ I could do it faster than you.” 
Letting the belt drop from your mouth with a metallic clink, you rotate your jaw at the ache your clenching had caused. You settle with a simple, “I said I could do it better not faster. What the hell were you looking for in there anyways – gold? My whole damn arm’s numb.” 
Alex chuckles, rolling his eyes with an easy smile. To anyone else, the two of you would look like the strangest couple in the world. Covered in blood but you still have the time to bicker back and forth like a married pair. The Agent’s eyelids crinkle.
“Yeah, alright, Miss World-Class,” he motions with two fingers and a smug look, “scoot upwards so I can pack that wound before blood gets stuck in your gear. Can’t have my girl bleeding out in the middle of nowhere, now can I?” He huffs, placing the tweezers and bullet on the floor of the safe house before taking off the ruined gloves with his teeth as his neck muscles peek out from his scarf. 
His gear was all covered in fluids – blood, mud, you name it the two of you were drowned in it. The Op could have gone better, to say the very least, but, hell, when does an Op go well? It had been too long since you and the man had a break and it was starting to weigh on you. Long nights and little sleep, it was like SAD was trying to go get you both killed with all the orders being given. Do this, do that…and what happened today? You feel a weight in your chest. 
But the bullet wound wasn’t what was bothering you. 
Sighing, you take a deep breath before grunting, forcing your back farther up the wall with shaking legs and a weak stomach to comply with Alex’s request. Your arm still blazes something awful, but the numbing agent your boyfriend had been insistent on you having was finally starting to work.
“Blood loss sucks ass…” You growl under your breath, lips twisting into a frown as you force away the haze in front of your eyes with fluttering eyelashes and sheer spite. The man spares you a pitying glance as he grabs fresh gauze from the medical punch on the floor. 
Inside your chest, your heart warms despite the outward hatred you feel for getting put in a situation like this. Blinking at him, Alex tilts his head to the side as he sits up, one knee on the floor as the other behaves as an elbow rest.
“I know, Sweetheart, I’m sorry. Just bare with me, alright? I’ll take such good care of you, ya’ won't even feel a thing.” You roll your eyes with an infectious smile, head tilting back to rest on the dilapidated wall once more, and say nothing.
“Hey, now,” your boyfriend teases with tell-tale amusement in his voice, and you mumble a half-assed ‘quit it’ under your breath that goes unheeded. “I saw that smile there – you can’t get past me that easily.” 
“Keller, shut up and patch me before I bleed out.”
An amused pause makes your cheeks hurt from holding back laughter.
“...Yes, Ma’am.” He says it so smugly you can’t help the exasperated chuckle that leaves your lips. The man’s hands caress your stained skin like you were formed of glass, rubbing soothing circles as he pushes back your shirt sleeve just the tiniest bit more to see what he’s working with. 
Alex was quite good at keeping his emotions in check, knowing how to act when he needed to, and even how to change his personality to get the job done with minimal hiccups. But there were small tells – the way his hands held your skin slightly tighter, the flickering of his eyes over the crimson-coated skin. He was used to blood, but he didn’t think he could ever get used to yours. Swallowing saliva in this mouth, the man focuses on the thrumming pulse of your heart; your skin. 
She’s right here. Alex tells himself. I’m gonna fix her up, and she’ll be just fine. 
If he had the chance to shoot the man that did this to you again, he would do it in a heartbeat.
The story of how you two met was one mentioned often by friends and coworkers back in the CIA-SAD headquarters. It never got old, apparently, and as Alex gets to stuffing and wrapping your wound until the extraction team comes with proper supplies, he hums a song under his breath softly. The song.
When Alex’s presence presses nearer, you tilt your head to the side, watching the wrinkle in the large man’s brow as his careful hands fix your marred skin with the patience of a saint. Unlike him, you were more than content to bask in the silence of each other's company, gazing with hidden love at the twitch of his large nose or at the way his hair stuck every which way. 
“You remember how I asked you to dance at that ball while Frank Sinatra was playing? The one in Washington back in ‘02.” Alex asks, looking up at you with a small smile under his mustache, skin peeling back to show perfect teeth. You nod, transfixed, as the light from outside gets dimmer, watching the dying rays play in his eyes that shine like shades of blue sea-glass, “God, I thought you were going to laugh straight in my face. I swear you nearly did.” 
“The stupid corporate thing that Laswell made us go to? Yeah, I remember it,” you frown at the accusation, annoyed, “and I would never laugh at someone asking me to dance.”
He raises a light brow, and after a brief staring contest, you concede with a scoff. 
“Okay, I’d never laugh at you asking me to dance…Better, Sunshine?” Alex laughs and you swear you nearly melt into the floor, cheeks feeling hot. 
Oh, when he laughs.
“Maybe, I don’t know yet. We’ll have to go dancin’ to make sure.” 
“I hate dancing,” you tease, only biting your lip when the knot he ties in the gauze makes your blood pump faster. “Thought I told you that the first time you asked?”
“You did – but I like when you’re swayin’ in my arms. Plus,” running his hands over the bandage, pulling at the fabric to make sure it’s secure, his blue orbs sparkle with his unique mischief you’ve come to tolerate. If only for the fact that it was his. Your face softens. “I did get you to join me eventually, if my memory’s correct.” 
Smirking, you bring your hand up to his chin, tilting it towards you without hesitation. Alex complies easily, setting some of his weight onto the limb as a particularly smitten glimmer sparks over his face; he stares down at you with his mustache twitching. 
“As I recall,” your blank words echo out over the small shack, “I only said ‘yes’ so you would stop following me around like a lost dog in search of its owner.” 
“Is that it?” He jibes, a smile so wide on his face you feared he would rip his lips open.
“Hm,” leaning closer, you watch Alex’s breath stutter not a second later with satisfaction singing in your blood like a hymn, “you had that same look on your face too…Absolutely whipped.” 
“And is that such a bad thing, Sweetheart?” He whispers, not missing a beat, breath fanning your cheeks as the scruff of his beard hairs scratches your flesh. “I don’t see you complaining when I make you dinner every night.” 
Scoffing, you squeeze his chin, “how could I? Your mother blessed you with her culinary skills. I’d be a fool to pass it up.” 
Alex’s chest rumbles in a purr.
“So you’re usin’ me?” He asks, his smooth voice tilted in a tone of bold cheekiness. Like a steady wave rocking a boat.
“Would it be unethical if I was?” You counter, staring dead on into his eyes without blinking. His lips nearly brush yours when he speaks.
“Incredibly.” 
“Hm…Pity.” You release his chin and lean back into the wall, murmuring complaints under your breath about the weakness of your arm and the sweat that makes your clothes stick to you. The regular grumpy frown on your lips re-takes its place where the easy smile had once been, unknown to you.
Alex’s heart beats loudly in his chest, but he refrains from showing his disappointment at the lack of lips pressed to his, only happy that you were still acting like your normal self. It would take more than one bullet to keep you down, he knew, and his admiration only continued to grow. 
His girlfriend was a badass. 
“Here – let me.” You allow the Agent to loop his strong arm under your shoulder, taking your weight like it was nothing and helping you to your feet. The comfortable conversation slips to the back of your mind when your feet are connecting to the ground. 
Alex keeps a hand on the small of your back to make sure you don’t fall, whispering a small, “steady,” as your feet momentarily stumble.
“How far out is Evac?” You force through gritted teeth, the back of your neck heating in wounded pride. 
You loved Alex - you really did - but if anything made you feel powerless it was not being in control of your own body. In the corners of your vision, black dots swirled like paper mache puppets, their phantom bodies leaving long streaks of mist behind as they danced from one position to another. The man at your side watches closely, face going tense; ready to catch you if your legs give out. 
After a moment’s hesitation, you once more gain control over yourself and clear your throat, shaking your head from side to side. The light brunette takes a step forward so his body brushes yours, leading you to blink and look up at him with curious eyes. 
“I’d say about three hours, give or take.” You can’t help the utter annoyance that enters your expression, eyes going half-lidded as you turn to stare at the barricaded door. 
No one would be coming after you from the city – and the safe house was so far off into the mountains, no one would want to try. If your thoughts hadn’t been running so fast, you would have reveled at the situation; Alex and you alone with no one coming for hours. Now that was a blessing in disguise. 
But there was something wrong. 
She’s not acting right. Those sea-glass eyes narrow, optics flickering to try and find what exactly you were staring at, but lands on nothing but an old door with moldy wood before he gravitates back.
Concerned confusion builds in Alex’s chest. 
Now that he thought about it, you had been more snappy on this mission than the others; less open to letting his jokes and quick quips curl your lips or soften your constant scowl. He’d refrained from mentioning anything due to the fact that he knew some days were worse than others – in this line of work sometimes it was best to take a breather than to blow up. But this was different. When those days came around, you always told him about it first thing – there hadn’t been anything this time.
“Sweetheart?” Alex asks, tilting his head forward to stare at you. “...Something going on?”
“No.” Straight-faced, your hands go to work the straps of your vest, peeling at the velcro at your sides. The man’s eyes widen, taken aback, and his soft smile freezes as his eyebrows pull in. You go back to shoving away pouches and hucking off your weapon, setting it to the floor before righting yourself.
Continuing, Alex feels his worry grow tenfold. 
“Would you–” he laughs heavily in his chest to try and dispel tension as you try harder to force the vest over your head, scowling. Your arm was ripe with needles, static living under the skin as your gauze turns more red. “Would you just let me take care of you?”
“...You shouldn’t have to.” 
A moment of brain-shattering silence. 
Fuck, you curse with a burning face, did I say that out loud? He wasn’t supposed to hear that–
“And what if I want to?” Alex utters, feet carrying him in front of you and sighing. You slow your still unexplained actions, avoiding his eyes and feeling your chest tighten. He continues, bringing his hand up to your cheek to tilt your head up to him. Losing some of that tension instantaneously, you glare at his collarbone instead. “Accidents happen, Hon. We can’t always come out of this at one hundred percent. I’m not disappoint–”
“We don’t get second chances, Alex,” you interrupt loudly, motioning around you at nothing, eyes flashing as they lock with his. The man just runs his thumb over your cheek – leaving molten heat behind. “Not us. Not when every mission could be it.”
Alex halts, body suddenly going stiff and muscles bunching. His forearms seize, the vibrant tattoos that you love to trace with your fingers jerking as if being lifted from the sun-kissed skin. His thumb ceases.
What?
“...Where’s this comin’ from?” You turn away quickly, moving back a step with your hands at your side bunching into fists, “hey,” Alex follows after, hesitant, but when you don’t move away he lays both of his hands on your shoulders. “Hey. Talk to me, Sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong.”
You shouldn't, but Alex just makes everything so much easier. It was like the words just fell out of you; whispered like a prayer. 
“...If someone would have snuck up on you while I was down…I…Y-you would have…” Your tongue bunches, catching on syllables and finding walls embedded in the vowels. God, you couldn’t even say it. 
Alex had become so important to you – the thought of something happening to him while you were unable to help…It broke you. 
What would have happened if even one more hostile was there; if he was outnumbered? And all I could do was watch. Your jaw clenches tight, throat holding back a growl.
No one had ever mattered this much to you, and that made you incredibly nervous. 
The hands at your shoulders tighten, a gentle squeeze before you’re being brought into a warm embrace without another word. Immediately, you reciprocate, the one wounded arm remaining at your side as the other digs past pouches and spare ammo to curl over Alex’s back, where you latch onto his shirt like a child. This was unlike you.
But it wasn’t like that mattered to Alex.
His body kept you close, security leaking from the locked position of his hand on the back of your head and the even swelling of his lungs. Home could mean many things to many different people, but for you, it would always be here. Colorful tattoos and a well-groomed mustache. Kind eyes. 
Sunshine smiles and sea-glass blue. 
Your lips thinned, keeping the glossiness in the corners of your vision away as you bury your head into Alex’s neck and suck down a deep breath. You both stay like that until the last light of dusk stops making shadows of the termite-eaten furniture, content to listen to each other's heartbeats and in the warmth of living skin. 
He speaks in whispers.
“How about we take a vacation? Just the two of us – take a breather from all of…this.” His words move your hair, spreading over the skin of your scalp as he presses his lips to it, murmuring into your skull with utter devotion. “You said something about Iceland to Laswell once, yeah?” 
Alex knew just as well as you did how draining this job was; how it was bad most days and horrible the next – never having choices, doing things that made an identity crisis seem like a holiday in comparison. There were some things the Agent would never tolerate, and that was you going off the deep end and him not being there to fish you out as you do with him. Being together meant fighting for one another when the battles were physical yet more so when they were unseen. 
All you had was each other. 
He feels your fingers grip his shirt slightly tighter, and a mocking laugh.
“You remembered that?” Your voice is garbled by his gear, but the vibrations spread over his skin as he fights the closing of his eyes; weaving his fingers just a little more through your locks. When you press kisses to his neck, Alex swears he’ll bend to one knee without hesitation.
“‘Course,” he smirks softly, lightly beginning to sway the two of you back and forth despite your half-hearted protests. “I remember everything my girl says. But if we’re goin’,” the Agent leans back, prompting you to look up at him with fatigued but bright eyes, “you owe me a dance first.”
“Alex,” you roll your eyes, chest lighter and mild panic gone. Funny, how the man could make everything disappear so simply. “We don’t even have any music.”
“You’re insinuating that we need music, Sweetheart.” 
“...You’re exhausting, Keller.” 
“Shush – you’re getting me off beat.”
“There is no beat–!” He presses his lips to yours, and the melody of your heart becomes song enough. Your eyes flutter shut as the scratch of Alex’s mustache leaves you grinning, his own lips peeling back in a smile in answer. 
A great bout of chuckles spills over the room, separating your supple flesh but never making you move far apart.
“...Just be careful. I’m still sore.” You hum your admittance, and he connects your foreheads together more gracefully than butterflies wings. 
Sea-glass blue. 
“Yes, Ma’am.”
The stars might have been out, shining through the dusty window of that old shack in the middle of nowhere, but you didn’t need the illumination from them to guide your unhurried steps. You had a sun of your own to light the path, and he was keeping his arms around you; squeezing as if you’d leave. 
As if. 
Gentle laughter spills out from under the doorway, seemingly making the rocky forest outside come alive. Birds sang songs to their adoring mates, deer grazed in lush green meadows in contentful calm. Wood Nymphs frolicked to and fro on fast feet, but would pause near the ancient forgotten building with termites living in the frame; taking quick peaks inside through murky glass and pressing moss-coated fingers to lips. 
They watched the two lovers dance with awe-filled expressions. For they had seen many lifetimes but had never once glimpsed such a sight as this – proof of every principle that Eros had preached as he and Psyche became inseparable. A love so pure and giving, some would call it divine.
The immortal beings watched just a little longer, lichen-lips parted into smiles.
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sunshine-zenith · 2 months ago
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You opened up a can of worms with that post detailing Peri's apparent horrible taste in men and now I'm gonna subject you to my ramblings about it.
Like with peridale I see it as completely one-sided from Dale's end and he knows that Peri hates his guts but it doesn't matter to him.
With perirep it's more of an on-and-off thing (situationship?). And when things truly did end for good, Irep wouldn't really be over it and tries to get his attention.
The point I'm making is that I then thought about Irep x Dale and how that would just be a really terrible rebound. I think I saw one post about Irep being Dale's crooked lawyer to contrast with Peri being Dev's babysitter and how they interacted in the Battle of the Big Wand that inspired this.
But poor Dev man, everyone wants to get with his godparent.
Yesssss, I love all this — Dale and Irep rebounding with each other screams disaster, and a human AU where Irep is the corrupt lawyer totally works
Between baby Peri spending months trying to befriend the guy who was actively trying to kill him in the original show and Cosmo specifically wording Peri quitting on Dev as “he said you two were on a break, he was waiting for you to call!” I 100% see Peri as the type of person who, upon seeing a red flag, goes “I can change him”
In all scenarios involving him and Dale, I imagine it starts with Peri trying to get custody of Dev while not breaking any human or fairy laws — he just needs to be Dale’s spouse long enough to legally adopt Dev, becoming his legal parent and not just a godparent or stepparent. Dale almost certainly would be as bad a significant other as he is a parent lol, but he’d still be blindsided by a breakup/divorce. At some point, Peri realizes that underneath Dale’s layers of negligence, greed, and corruption, there’s more layers of trauma and daddy issues, and he can’t help but get invested
It isn’t worth it, but at least he gets Dev and (if he plays his cards right) some hefty alimony out of it
As for Irep… calling them a situation ship is perfect tbh. There’s so much history there, so much genuine positive and negative feelings on both sides. I deffo headcanon that they at least dated in the past (again, Cosmo’s wording about Peri waiting for a phone call felt very specific — possibly unintentional projecting, like that’s how Peri and Irep’s last attempt at dating ended). If you think about it, there were probably times where Irep was the most consisted person in Peri’s life (he ended up low/no contact with his parent after they retired and he basically lost his big brother. I can’t see Irep necessarily being his rock throughout this, but he was probably at least a steady figure).
I really love all the fanart of Peri and Irep co-godparenting Dev and I lowkey hope that if we do get a season 2, we get at least one episode with them doing that — it’s both incredibly funny and incredibly wholesome to think about
That said, I agree lmao, if they’re officially done done, Irep would be significantly less willing to accept it that Peri. Shoot, I’m pretty sure that’s a little bit the point they’re at in the episode Irep is reintroduced in — Peri barely gives Irep the time of day and acts smug when he brings Jorgen onto the scene, and attitude that probably comes from years of having your emotional investment in someone tossed back in your face
As for your last point, yes yes yes I am rotating Dev’s face when he realizes his godparent has such trash taste around in my head. He absolutely openly judges Peri and is constantly mortified. If you’ll tolerate me being wholesome for a moment, though… we see that between Dev stealing Hazel’s hat to protect her and him going back to save her from Vicky that Dev is actually very protective of the people he loves (a character trait I do plan on taking advantage of in my fanfics). I love the idea of him getting to the point of being protective of Peri. He’d see the type of people Peri dates and decides to sabotage those dates, possibly with Hazel’s reluctant help. It drives Peri up a wall, but let’s be real, it’s almost always justified lmao
(Cupid, whose known Peri since he was a baby and was likely an uncle figure to him, probably sees his pseudo-nephew as a disaster, but at least it keeps him busy)
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thewritetofreespeech · 3 months ago
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Hola!
Could I request Solomon defending his s/o when her older sister (very poorly) attempts to bully her?
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Solomon x Reader
It was good to be home. ‘Home’ being a relative term for just being back on Earth, but the sentiment was still the same.
Though being in the Devildom was exciting, and certainly lively with the brothers & their friends, Solomon liked coming back to the mortal plane with [Y/N] to be alone. He honestly never cared what they did when they had their ‘top side’ dates, but visiting their family was usually on the list and typically pleasant. Most of the time….
“Oh [Y/N], since you’ve been in the exchange program for so long, I went in your closet to rotate a few things out. You know, to make more space and freshen things up.” Their older sister was not one of the more amenable visits they had planned for this week. Solomon had met the type before. The undercutting, faux helpful character. The kind that would smile with a knife in your back. She always came off sweet to [Y/N], but Solomon knew her intent was never that genial.
“Um…ok. You didn’t get rid of any of my stuff did you?”
“Just a few boxes. It was all stuff from like…high school.”
“Some of that ‘stuff’ is important to me! Which pieces did you get rid of?”
“I don’t know like..some of the shirts and stuff. God. Try to do something nice for you and you jump down my throat…”
“And what, pray tell, did you replace it with?” Solomon asked, getting her attention. “You said you were going to ‘freshen things up’, so what did you get [Y/N] in exchange.”
The sister looked shocked but quickly bounced back and showed [Y/N] some of what she had gotten from her phone. As expected, they were all clothes that fit her taste more than [Y/N]. “So, you cleaned out her closet to make more room for your own things. Lovely.”
The sister frowned at him. “That’s not what happened!” She insisted. “I was only trying to help! Besides, if it was so important why didn’t she just take it with her?”
“If it was so important, why didn’t you just put it in boxes for [Y/N] to review on her return, if you really only wanted to help?”
The woman growled at him and then turned to [Y/N]. “You know, I’ve been meaning to say this for a while, but we all hate your boyfriend.” Despite the conversation, Solomon grinned at the term ‘boyfriend’. “He’s always making these snide comments and passive aggressive remarks. It’s not cool!”
“Ironically, it is the very definition of ‘cool’ behavior.” Cool: to appear unfriendly and unsympathetic by not showing much emotion, especially affection. Solomon would have laughed at his own joke if tensions weren’t running a little high.
“I was just trying to help, and you’re making it out like I’m some bitch!”
“The senators of Rome were also just trying to help, and yet Ceasar is still dead.” That had been a very sad day for him as well. “But, if we are going to dissolve into foul language, I think we will take our leave. Profanity is the parlance of fools.”
Solomon stood as the sister’s jaw dropped wide enough to catch files. He sheathed his retort on that and offered his hand to [Y/N]. “Please email [Y/N] on where you sent their belongings, so we might buy them back. Even if it costs me tenfold, I will return you whole my love.” With this promise they leave the café to enjoy the rest of their Earth visit.
“You really didn’t have to say all that to her.” [Y/N] said when they were down the street.
“Why? I enjoyed it. Besides, your sister was right about one thing: she is a bitch.” He didn’t have to ‘make her out’ to be anything, and he already felt bad enough to stooping to her level. “Now, let’s go shopping until your sister texts where she sent your things.” He doubted she would, but he sent a quick text to their mother, who he had a great relationship with, to hopefully push the needle. “I’ll text Asmo for some fashion tips. He’ll be over the moon when he hears you are updating your wardrobe properly, and we’ll be on the hunt for the rest of your things.”
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ragnarokhound · 2 months ago
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Hi wife. Staring at the green dot on your profile like my boy Gatsby and sending increasingly ridiculous asks in the hope of winning your heart.
not to bring up chapell roan, but have we considered the lyric “You could kiss a hundred boys in bars” for recently broken up jaytim?
I’m thinking Tim freaks out about love and affection™️ and totally ghosts Jason after their first kiss/near death experience. Jason runs into him at a club a few weeks later and sees that Tim is potentially kissing boys that ARE NOT JASON — cue angsty drama, maybe another near death experience where they save each other, and jason figuring out Tim ghosted because he’s a big chicken. Then (important for plot and character development) they have dirty dirty sex
Hi wife. You're yearning for something you already hold. Now come inside off the dock, the only thing you'll catch is your death of cold out here 💖 (I swear one of these days I'll find you dramatically floating face down in the swimming pool and it's gonna give me a goddamn heart attack /affectionate)
I'm so glad you know exactly what I like because a) good luck babe plays in my head 24/7 it was absolutely in the rotation when I was writing Secretary fic so how dare you and b) this is so up my alley for jaytim like you don't even know skdjfjks
In fact it's so up my alley that I'm gonna have to slap my response to this one under a cut cause it spiralled out of control:
Idk if you've noticed but I am deeply obsessed with Tim figuring out his own feelings re: Jason first and having a mcfreaking meltdown about them lmao.
Between the two of them, imo, he is much more of an anxious overthinker who will think he's making the most tactically sound decision because he really has thought it through with all the information he has access to -- but he always fails to give full weight to considering the best case scenario when it's something he wants. When it's something he feels selfish about. And boy, does he consider Jason Todd a best case scenario.
And mmmm I am so very here for jealous! and possessive!Jason. Especially when Jason didn't realize what he was feeling until after he's already acted on it. It is the bread and butter. Bonus points if he's not even trying to show it to Tim. Tim isn't the problem.
For instance: Tim's in the club, looking to see if he's just horny and needs to get it out of his system, come on, I cannot muck up the good thing I have just because I want some fuck-- and his prospective dance partners just start to dry up.
Because the big guy who looks like he's done time and a half keeps glaring daggers, keeps shoving his old partners off the dancefloor or knocking into them when they've come back with drinks for the cute twink they were totally gonna score with. Not anymore.
Jason thinks he's doing it because he's looking out for Tim. Because anyone with eyes can tell they just want Tim for one thing, and he deserves so much better than that.
When Tim realizes what's going on, he's already been grinding on this hot buff guy who came up behind him for two songs in a row. Tall, dark and silent keeps stopping Tim from turning around, and he doesn't slip a hand any lower despite all of Tim's silent offerings. Weird, but the anonymous gentleman act is kinda hot, so--
And then he glances at the round, silvered mirror in the corner. He clocks the white streak in the head of black hair dipped low over his, the gun callouses running rough over his bare stomach. He stiffens up in Jason's arms just long enough that he knows Jason knows he's been made. He drags him off to the bathrooms ("come on, handsome") and the second the doors shut and they're alone, he whirls on him.
They argue. Tim is embarrassed and it's coming out as anger, Jason is annoyed (and still processing the revelation he'd been having on the dancefloor, the one where Tim was lithe and warm in his arms, his long fingers twining through what hair he could reach at Jason's nape, where he smelled like sweat and musk and Tim and Jason found himself wanting to know if the gleaming patch of skin in the bare crook of his neck would taste the same--)
Jason is annoyed and has no explanation that will satisfy Tim. He wants to know why Tim ghosted him when the last mission they worked ended in bloody, near-disaster, and the case it was tied to still hasn't fully wrapped. He gets taking a few days off to recover, but it's been longer than that. Way longer, with no contact, no explanation, no 'I got shot so I'm gonna need a week or maybe three'. Wasn't Tim going to finish the job? He told Jason he would help. Did he lie?
It yanks the rug out from under Tim. Makes him feel small, and selfish. He promises Jason he'll come back to the case, he just had some things to figure out. But that's done now.
Jason loses the thread on his irritation as Tim deflates, hates the hunched, defensive hug he's giving himself, looking vulnerable and tired in his scanty clubbing fit under the cold LEDs flickering above the bathroom sink. He catches sight of the fresh pink scar, the one he'd just felt out under his palms not ten minutes ago with something bordering on relief. (And hunger.)
He wants to reach out, "Tim--?"
But Tim brushes past him, fleeing out the door and disappearing through the crowd before Jason can stop him.
-
Everything is fine. Totally 100% fine and dandy--
--is what they both are telling themselves.
Tim is doing his best to stifle his feelings, stomps down on them ruthlessly every time he catches them flaring up, and is counting the seconds until this is finally over and he can get to work dousing the massive fucking torch he's been holding in peace.
Tim comes back to help Jason with the rest of the case, but he's palpably distant, brittle when they banter-- and Jason hates it. He still remembers how Tim felt against him, how he'd melted into Jason, silently begging to be touched. For Jason to touch him.
It's been quietly rearranging some things in Jason's head. He's replayed their argument in the bathroom over and over. He thinks about Tim, about the timing of his disappearance--
(About the bullet he'd dug out of Tim's body, silver and red, and the desperate flow of his blood over Jason's wrists. About the night spent monitoring Tim's condition in a rundown safehouse, feeding him ice chips and brushing the hair out of his eyes, brushing off every bullshit attempt he made to tell Jason he was fine.)
--about figuring things out and avoiding Jason's eyes. And Jason wonders.
They have one last big bust to make, after days of stewing in their own unresolved tension. It goes down textbook; easy. In and out.
Except, at the last minute, during extraction, Jason gets shot. And Tim freaks.
He puts their plane on autopilot the moment they're clear (maybe a few moments before they're clear, actually) and dashes to where Jason is groaning just inside the bay doors. He's tight-lipped and grim-faced; his hands are fast and efficient, but shaking.
"Tim," Jason tries to say, but he gets shushed with a glare.
"Don't talk," Tim clips out. He undoes straps and disarms panels Jason thought were secret, and then he pulls out a pair of medical scissors.
"Tim--" Jason tries again, more urgently, but Tim doesn't even glance at him, just cuts through Jason's undershirt to expose--
"Oh," he breathes.
"Yeah. I'm okay," Jason sighs.
The crunched up bullet is caught in Jason's last layer of kevlar. The round they'd fired on him had been dramatically big, but Jason gets in firefights basically 24/7. He's padded to hell and back, even more than your average Bat. He'll have a wicked bruise and his rib might be sore for a week, but that's about it.
That's it.
Tim is still for an achingly long ten seconds, breathing shallow as he stares at Jason's armor. The proof that it's effective. And then he collapses.
He sits back heavily, elbows on his bent knees as he rubs his pale face. Jason watches as he visibly tries to pull himself back together, but relief keeps shaking him apart. Jason sits up.
Tim startles, tries to stand; Jason doesn't let him.
"Come here," he entreats, tugging Tim closer, firmly by the knees, to sit between Jason's legs with his thighs around Jason's waist, trembling under Jason's hands. "Don't go."
Tim twists his fists in Jason's jacket collar, eyes squeezing shut as Jason tips their foreheads together. Like he can't stand it. Caught in fight or flight-- but flight has been denied him.
"I know," Jason murmurs. "But don't go this time. Don't."
Tim drags in gasping breaths, and Jason runs soothing palms over his thighs, his waist, his arm, his neck. He thinks he understands. This feeling is too big. And if Tim is feeling half of what Jason feels, he gets why he'd want to run from it.
"Don't," he begs against Tim's mouth anyway. He kisses Tim until he moans into Jason, until he's sunk his fingers into Jason's hair; until he's sure he'll stay.
--AND THEN THEY HAVE DIRTY DIRTY SEX ON THE FLOOR OF THE PLANE AMEN
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m1d-45 · 2 years ago
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You know, I've been thinking. The stars in our world often look quite dim, especially in areas where there is light pollution. Suddenly, I'm imagining that in the Imposter!AU, the Creator looks at the stars at night, captivated by their brilliance. Perhaps Scaramouche or Mona (Whichever you prefer, you may also just write another character you think fits this scenario :D) find them. The Creator looks at them, then back at the stars.
"They're very lovely, you know? The stars never shine this brightly back home. It's a lovely sight..."
They smile. "I'm happy that I'm able to see them, even if it's in another world. I appreciate you letting me look at them before I die."
Perhaps the character takes pause... And sits next to them.
It's a lovely night.
in the stars
word count: ~1k
-> warnings: violence, blood, both of those in your future so technically you’re not hurt yet, not written for mona mains, sorry, didn’t work with the plot :/ also diona/klee/qiqi/nahida/sayu mains are on thin ice with this one. questionable plot. barely edited.
-> lowercase intended
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie
< masterlist >
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the stars never lie.
mona clutches her catalyst to her chest, wide eyes turned to the sky. she whispers to them, hoping they’ll change, shift into something she’ll understand, anything.
they don’t.
her head lowers, inspecting the book. thrilling tales, the spine reads, the cover a simplified dragon with a sword through it. she tries to read into it, to try and pick apart the motives behind the weapon, but all it returns is a simple needlepoint.
a compass. one she’d followed ever since she caved into the pull on her catalyst, one she’d followed out of the city at dusk and into the plains, hiking up starsnatch cliff at its behest. her twin tails had lost some of their curl on the journey, her hat flopping sadly. it was late, later than she’d normally be awake, and she stumbled once on a rock before quickly catching herself, checking to make sure you hadn’t moved.
you, sat at the peak of the cliff. you, surrounded by cecelias, face turned to the stars. you, who turned at her short cry.
“are you alright?”
she couldn’t bring her hands to shift her catalyst into its attack position. her hands, free from their usual gloves, dug into the cover of the book, shaking both with the chill of night and with… she couldn’t tell, couldn’t pin whether it was fear or nervousness, or something else that blurred the line between panic and excitement.
“just fine, thank you.”
her voice was harsher than it should have been. she could tell you were being genuine, the way the water in the air shaped around you like it wanted to cling made that clear enough, the stars shining down on you as if you were the only being on the planet.
the stars never lie. so why were they saying you meant no harm?
you turned back to the stars, your hands shifting back to weave into the grass between the cecelias.
"they’re very lovely tonight. the stars, i mean. they never shine this brightly back home….” against her better judgement, mona glanced up. the sky was particularly clear, constellations shining down unhindered. “it’s a beautiful sight.”
orders from the knights echoed in mona’s head, orders extended from a god she’d never met. she knew the knights wholeheartedly meant what they said, truly believing the words they were told, but you…
hesitantly, she brought her hand in a circle in front of her, scrying for your constellation. you didn’t have one, unsurprisingly, and she relaxed slightly in the knowledge that you didn’t have a vision.. still, there was something strange about the empty space where yours would have been. swapping the sigils and rotating the outer edge, mona decided to read your future.
all the air was sucked from her lungs, the images depicted in the water making her mouth dry. the water warped and bubbled a dark color, as if it itself hated to show what it did.
you were on your knees, tight steel chains wrapped around you and latched onto hooks in whatever you were sitting on. in front of you stood the favored, the creator’s most prized, their weapon drawn. their form was taught with anger, nearly seething. it was strange, so uncharacteristic that it froze the astrologist in place for a moment.
no matter how fiery the disposition, vessels of yours were calmer after being wished upon, heart stiller for being by your side. they, the most prominent on your team of them all, should be at most handling such a severe situation with a tick in their jaw and quiet fury in their eyes, not…
she watched with sick horror as the favored attacks once, your chest caving once, twice with hitched attempts at breathing before you slumped over, blood trickling from your neck. the favored stepped back, weapon dismissed, and mona closed the illusion before it played any further. she hadn’t meant to look all the way to your death, only a few-
…only a few hours.
her hands shake where they’re still clasped in front of her, the remains of her scrying circle swirling in her palms. you didn’t even have a day.
she let the water fall, sending it towards the cecelias around you, willing them to stand brighter as she approached. she couldn’t bring herself to summon her catalyst, not now that she knew what your fate held.
the grass was damp beneath her, seeping slightly into her nightclothes. you didn’t say anything, simply passing her a flower that you had been twirling in your palms. she willed it to heal, restored the color to its petals and the strength to its stem, then passed it back. she had no use for it, not when you…
you chuckled as you took it, staring down at it for a moment before turning skyward once more. mona followed your eyes up, spotting a well known constellation directly above you. nearly perfectly straight up, glowing like a beacon, was the constellation of the favored, six stars making themselves prominent against the dotted sea of night.
“beautiful, isn’t it?”
she swallowed, eyes flicking down to you. you were still watching the stars, probably tracing the shape of the constellation above you. unknowing of what it spelled for your fate, unknowing of the warning written above you.
mona settled into the grass a little more, taking her hat off her head so it wouldn’t fall when she looked up again.
“indeed, it is.”
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weena-mercator · 22 days ago
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narumitsu fic recs - part 1
I've been putting together fic recs for a while, trying to sort things into different categories rather than just sharing one big post of stories that are all over the place in type, length, etc. - I've appreciated all the fic recs I've gotten on reddit and in nrmt discord servers, and wanted to compile things in such a way that it makes it easier for those who are interested in reading more fanfic! while I still have decent amount of fics bookmarked on my "to read" list, i have read a not insubstantial number this year (don't mind me just rolling into the fandom nearly 23 years late - actually I really liked AA when I first saw GG play in 2019, bought the game b/c of it - & I liked nrmt but something about JFA was the turning point for me to become just totally normal about them)
anyways, i digress...
I'll start off with my favorite contenders for long (more than 50K words) canon-compliant (or mostly canon-compliant fics) - some are more dramatic and some are more light-hearted
obviously since this is a recommendation list, I may make comments about how I feel about something with a fic that you don't agree with - I only say this to point out some of my thoughts regarding the fic, not to start a hc war... and I'm definitely not trying to say "this author is wrong" or anything like that, just pointing out my personal opinion
a long way to fall by prospectkiss
this is the first long fic I ever read for nrmt and I can't recommend it enough. Heads up that this fic is E - Taking place between T&T and AJ (handwavey give them more time in this time period than in canon), this is also a case fic that majorly ties in to the plot - you've got romantic tension, mutual pining, drama, angst and a great (and spicy) ending. word count: 78K POV: rotating between Phoenix and Miles why it’s a must read IMO: I admit I am partial to getting together fics that are pre-disbarment or very early 7YG, the PINING and build up is incredible and it’s very difficult to put down but especially once you get about halfway through, it will be hard to stop! I think I read this in only 2 sittings.
the long way home by griffonage
a fic that deserves SO much more love - it is so incredibly well-written and heart-wrenching. the very beginning covers major events of the first trilogy quickly while the majority of the story takes place during the 7YG. Phoenix is always right there for Edgeworth, but Edgeworth is pretty great at making terrible decisions -including running away from things he wants deep down- and that finally takes its toll on Phoenix, whose anger is very justified. Per the tags: ??? to friends?? to it's complicated to it's VERY complicated to... unsurprisingly this makes for a pretty angsty relationship & moments that make you just want to shake Miles (and Phoenix, but a lot more Miles). This is also an E fic FYI, as far as I remember that stuff is only short scenes in a few places as opposed to like, a whole chapter devoted to it. word count: 84K POV: Miles why it’s a must read IMO: there are multiple little case fics along the way that are interesting, this story truly made me sad I wasn’t also working and exploring in Europe, Trucy!!, the OCs are very well done, it’s a great character study of Miles, and writing wise, this is one of the most well-written stories I’ve ever read among fanfic and published novels written in my lifetime
trace (vestiges) by FaultyParagon
this fic is pretty well known, and while it may not rank quite as high for me now as it did when I first read it, I do regard it highly. I don't know how much editing/beta-reading happened for it, so my one little thing about it is that the grammar mistakes happened a little too frequently to gloss over, but still not terrible (I know we all write for free but with frequent or significant enough errors, I'm taken out of the world easily, maybe that's not a problem that affects the majority of readers, idk). A mostly filling in the gaps fic that takes place from AAPW to right before DD - it's not exactly a slow burn, but just because they manage to get together earlier rather than later doesn't mean they aren't going to encounter obstacles in their relationship. This fic is M - it sort of rides that line between M and E in my opinion, as the sex isn't very graphic but not just glossed over either. word count: 225K POV: Miles why it’s a must read IMO: touch-starved Miles, again, I’m partial to them getting together pre-disbarment, despite it not being exactly a slow burn it does have quite a build up, I really love seeing Miles have a lot personal growth, especially in regards to handling his emotions, during his “choose death” year and during 7YG as well as how he is there for Phoenix and Trucy during that time
turnabout feelings by ssygir
a 7YG fic where Edgeworth requests Phoenix's help to research trials by jury, bringing Phoenix and Trucy with him to Paris - where they unintentionally get caught up in a murder investigation, and Phoenix realizes his feelings for Edgeworth are definitely not platonic. While my personal view is that Phoenix has known he's been in love with Miles for a looooong time, I can appreciate a good fic where he's just now figuring that out. Some little things about Edgeworth's characterization feel off to me, but maybe that's just me. This fic is E, but that's pretty much limited to one chapter. one small note: this fic does have a follow up, but hasn't been updated in over a year (although the author has said they plan to finish it at least! so hope is not lost yet) word count: 76K POV: Phoenix why it’s a must read IMO: it’s an early 7YG getting together story, the case fic is fun, not a total sloooooow burn but definitely builds up, a good pick when you want a more lighthearted story with very little angst
dating for a turnabout by Mikomikono
technically set in that tiny window between AAI2 and Phoenix's disbarment, Miles asks Phoenix to join him to investigate a smuggling operation at a resort - except they find out that the event taking place at the resort is a couple's retreat, and the only way to have full access is to pose as one... oh and of course Larry happens to be there too. This one is a fun case fic with mutual pining, only one bed and a sprinkling of angst among some silliness and fluff - while I wish there was a little more to the ending, it was a very fun read, T rating. word count: almost 90K POV: rotating between Phoenix and Miles why it’s a must read IMO: the author has little profiles and evidence info for the case posted for each chapter, very fun! I’m picky about fake dating stories and I think this one does it very well, and again, I really like seeing pre-disbarment getting together - and they are pining fools here, it’s good stuff
chasing history by SlatedForAbandonment
post canon, Phoenix invites Miles to stay in his guest room while he's in LA working on his PhD. Some small notes on timeline - this is where it gets a little loose with canon compliance, although the author does note that in the tags - Edgeworth is already Chief Prosecutor but currently taking a leave of absence to work on his dissertation, but hasn't found permanent residence again yet, despite this being a few years post SOJ (at one point it is stated that Apollo is 28) - I also feel like a lot of Edgeworth's behavior/reactions are more fitting of trilogy era Edgeworth, or even early 7YG... all that being said, it is a super slow burn, well-written with fun dialogue and very sweet moments as well as a bit of angst. rating is T. word count: 68K POV: rotating between Phoenix and Miles why it’s a must read IMO: even though I feel like this story would more realistically take place much earlier in canon, you get a great slow burn with plenty of incredibly sweet moments along the way that just make you melt
the catch-up game by theacegrace
post canon, Trucy is on a year-long magic show tour and Phoenix is left feeling like everyone keeps moving on and leaving him behind, while also dealing with some realizations regarding one Miles Edgeworth. again, my personal take is that Phoenix would've realized this long before now, but this story is an interesting Phoenix character study and once you get about 3/4 through the story, the situation is very tense - it's hard to not read this whole thing, or at least the back half, in one sitting. rated T. word count: 66K POV: Phoenix why it’s a must read IMO: it’s always interesting to consider that prior to his disbarment, Phoenix was the more self-assured and bold one of the two when it came to matters of the heart, and then afterwards that essentially flips for a while - now Miles has gained a lot of confidence and gone through a lot of emotional growth (Phoenix starts to gain this back a lot after becoming a lawyer again, but he’s definitely not just back to trilogy-era Phoenix)
it would feel so good to make you mine by hi_its_ellis and lowbatteryhealth
post DD, this is an unusual slow burn - both Phoenix and Miles know they're in love with each other, but they've come to an unspoken agreement on how to handle this - there's a winner and a loser, and the "loser" is whoever cracks first. honestly, another fic where I just wanted to shake them until they came to their sense, but it's very fun and sweet, T rating. word count: 54K POV: various why it’s a must read IMO: it’s tagged idiots to usdiots LMAO, so many sweet moments among the aggravation - they are BOTH moron-sexual, your honor, and you’ll want to strangle them /affectionate…
a turnabout toast by ideny
summary by author: (after the events of AJ) an estranged Phoenix and Miles respond to a friendly challenge from an unexpected source: do three things each to fix your lives. this fic is technically the least canon compliant because we of course learn in DD (and this fic was written before the release of DD) that Phoenix and Miles did spend time together during his disbarment, at the very least in Europe helping Miles research. So this is a hell of an angsty read, worth it for the story-telling despite that it departs from canon in that way. Not rated, but I don't recall anything above T rating stuff happening in it. word count: 68K POV: rotating between Phoenix and Miles why it’s a must read IMO: damn they really go through it in this one, dealing with the aftermath of the events of AJ is very interesting, lots of angst but I feel compelled to tell you don’t worry, the ending will ease your pain
Obligatory recs:
legal partners by miggy
project: matchmakers by WingSongHalo
how to court a fool in under three months by snowyrunes
All 3 of these are post canon getting together fics, AND all 3 are told from various POVs, not just Phoenix and Miles - there's a reason they are some of the most well-known ones - PM is probably the most fluffy with the least angst (and has a very cute multi chapter follow up), followed by LP (has a fairly short E follow up) - HTCAFIUTM is the slowest burn (it also has a follow up that hasn't been updated since 2022... which stinks because it did leave off on a bit of a cliffhanger and I really wanna know what's going to happen lol)
I have yet to read the highly regarded canon-compliant long fics listed below, but they are on my to-read list!
you ever been in love? by hechima
saturation by tiedyed trickster *
indefensible by zombolouge *
a brief for the defense by Ophelia_Writes * (this has now been orphaned FYI)
turnabout dishwasher by zuzsenpai
*indicates that it has not been finished yet, possibly won't ever be
If you know of any other 50K+ canon-compliant fics that you'd highly recommend, please let me know!
my other posts will be for AUs, chapter fics shorter than 50K, one-shots (might have to divide those up by theme), probably a NSFW set as well if there's interest!
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catyo90 · 6 months ago
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hey! 😊 i noticed that you also write for ‘the dare.’ wooow, ever since i watched that movie, i’ve had a huge crush on dominic. i’d love to know if you write romantic headcanons for the character. maybe in a scenario where you both met and started dating after a certain period?
i’m not sure if this will make sense to you, but i don’t speak english, so forgive any mistakes.
after all, i loved your profile ♡
The Fic for Dom was actually the first, but...why not. ;)
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Head-Canons/ Small Fic: Start of a Relationship
-You both met at the campsite, he wasn't wearing his mask. He was wearing his normal clothes but kept his distance. He would claim to be there to enjoy the campsite with friends but he seemed sad when he spoke.
-His blue eyes caught your attention as he nervously asked to sit with you, at first you were nervous, after all a strange man in the woods by himself. You were smart enough to a least be generally kind to him.
-You couldn't help though but to admire his physique, he was so tall and built that you guessed he was farmer or woodsman. You then noticed blood on his shirt and got a bit more nervous but he explained that he raised and stocked up pigs for meat that he sold.
-After a few moments of silence you asked if he was hungry at all and offered to make a smore for him. He looked confused for a moment.
"Have you never had one?"
"My father didn't let me eat sweets."
"Oh, well, I promise you will love it. And it will warm you up."
He took the smore from your hand and bit into it, the melted chocolate and marshmallow made his mouth tingle. He smiled at you thanking you with a nod. You noticed his lips had some chocolate stain.
"You got a little on you..." You brought a gentle hand to his lip and wiped away the stain and licked it off your thumb. You laughed a little at his face looking surprised.
-After a few hours of talking with Dom (At least you talked he was still distant and wouldn't give any personal other than his name.) You realized your so called friends were not going to show up, it hadn't been the first time they did this, you thought they could have at least called to let you know or something. You sighed as Dom added another log to the fire, the cold air made you shiver.
"I suppose I should leave, its getting late."
You stood up grabbing your bag and looked down at Dom.
"Thanks for staying with me."
"Wait!" Dom said standing up he looked a little afraid and ran a hand through his hair trying to stay calm.
"You...do you want to meet up again?" He said trying to keep his cool but he could feel his inner evil coming out a little, he liked you, he didn't want to lose you. another possible friend.
You smiled and moved your hair behind your ear, you wouldn't usually meet with a stranger again but he seemed nice enough, and you didn't have anything going on.
'Alright. I'll see you tomorrow"
-Dom smiled to himself as he returned to his home after you left in your car, when he got home he stepped into the hidden room where he overlooked his book of friends, he started to draw a crude drawing of you in the book, the sudden screams of those he took below, he sighed as he slammed his hands on the table and walked down the stairs and violently opened the door, three people tied to the corners of the room, one of them trying to hide their phone that he managed to see and grab from them, a familiar face of you and the three.
He huffed and groaned as he threw the phone at the wall before turning of the lights and slamming the door closed as your so called friends screamed.
-The next day you actually arrived a little late due to the weather but you saw him sitting on the log with some meat cooking on a stake that he was rotating, you smiled and waved at him as you brought some hot chocolate with you.
-He noticed you were a bit saddened, you heard nothing from your friends the night before and were a bit worried, but they had done this to you before and in truth you were wondering why you stayed with them, maybe just to not feel lonely. You sighed and brought your attention back to Dom.
"You need better friends."
"You might be right. Guess you'll do." you said with a smirk taking a bite of meat offering him a sip of the hot beverage. The next few hours were nice but still a bit awkward. You smiled to yourself as you actually felt safe with Dom, physically and mentally. The looks he gave you would make you feel warm and the way he felt more comfortable with you made him, for once in his messed up life, he felt peaceful.
Every few days were like this, he would meet you with a smile on his face and you even offered to meet him in town, but he didn't seem too comfortable with leaving. Almost like he had to stay nearby, he gave you some insight on his past, saying how his father was mentally insane and how when he died he was finally able to live his life. You felt sorry for him knowing that he probably never got the proper childhood everyone deserved.
You noticed his arm was bleeding one day but he didn't seem to mind, you were worried but if he seemed to be okay who were you to argue. He was a bit surprised what you asked next.
"Would you like to see where I live."
"Um...I really shouldn't leave."
"It's just up the road from here. Dom, it would be good for you to get away for a little bit. I promise it won't be long."
Dom didn't say anything for a long while but he eventually agreed and walked with you to the car, on the ride there it started to rain heavily making you wonder if he was just worried for his pigs. But he was now fully focused on you. Like whatever was back home didn't matter. Once you got to your home you hurried inside with him following close behind, both of you were soaked. You sighed as you grabbed a towel from the next room and placed it over his head drying off his hair.
'Sorry, I didn't think it would rain so badly."
You moved the towel away from his face and gently wiped off the water around his neck and chest, you paused for a moment when he looked at you bringing a hand to your hair moving the wet strands away from your face. You felt one of his strong arms wrap around you, you felt nervous and uneasy but you didn't move away, you glanced at his lips for a moment as he took the towel away from your hand and threw it to the ground as he gripped onto you tightly. What ever control he had, he could feel it slowly moving away. The evil he saw in his friends and yours, he saw none of that in you.
He wanted you, he wanted you to never leave. He kept his hands on your upper body holding you closer to his body, you wrapped you arms behind him clinging to his flannel shirt slowly taking it off his shoulders feeling his whole body flex from your touch. You felt him slowly walk you backwards toward the couch and caught both of you from falling as his lips met yours. You heard a small growl come from him as he clung to you, as if you were a dream that could fade away.
He pulled himself away for a moment giving you a chance to catch your breath. His eyes are as bright as they always are. He seemed to have excitement in his eyes. Like a child. Your hand moves up from his chest to his face, where you caress him. The sentiment temporarily freezes him in place. Your touch is kind. It’s soft. Every time you touch him he has to remind himself that you are not a threat. Not like his friends.
He knew he couldn't go an further, he wouldn't lay with you under false pretentions. But that didn't stop him from kissing you all night until you both feel asleep in each others arms.
-
You were laying against his chest on the couch. Your back faced him and his arm was wrapped around your waist. His hand was intertwined with your own as he absentmindedly rubbed his thumb over your skin. It’s was enough to make your heart flutter.
He suddenly snatched your wrist, gripping onto you firmly. It makes you gasp. Did you do something wrong? Innocently, you trust that he wasn’t going to hurt you farther than that. you remembered how his father berated him and abused him, If he was asserting a boundary, then that’s good. But you wondered, would he hurt you?
There’s no movement for a while. It’s just him and you laying together, the tenseness in the air quickly dissipates. You go to lean against his strong forearm before he uses his other hand to tilt your chin upward to face him. A pair of lips meet your own. You slowly turn, placing a free hand on his chest. So many things cross your mind.
When you reach in to kiss him, you pause just before his lips. He’s the one that closes the distance. Tingles prickle in his stomach, making him feel sick happiness. The kiss is a lot more intimate than he thought. It makes his heartbeat increase and blood rush to his cheeks. It’s real. And it’s with you
"I suppose this means we are dating now?" you asked half joking but also half serious.
He said nothing only holding you closer feeling sobs coming from him as you gently held him back.
"I'm sorry."
"Dom...its okay. This was just nice. I didn't..."
"No. I want this. I want you."
-Since that night he wants to kiss you all the time, no matter what time of day or what you are doing. He craves attention and companionship, But he still seems distant, especially when missing people reports start to show up and he knows he can't get you involved
-So he decides to stay with you for awhile, at least until the heat dies down. But when the cops start asking you questions, he starts staying at home missing your touch everyday, even so he has to satisfy himself constantly. One day though he sees you at the camp once more, you wanted to know why he wasn't seeing you anymore why would he discard you in such a way. But your thoughts are interrupted when you hear a snap behind you, you turn and see nothing for a moment but suddenly you felt a hand over your mouth, you struggled against them but to no avail, your vision became dark. The last thing you felt was the person carrying you and the sound of Dom's voice.
"Stay."
-
PT.2? Let me know.
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