#i might be speaking too soon though because i still have zero clue how to get over to ryoma with other units…

[windywhispers]

correct me if im wrong but if you really wanted to use another unit than corrin against ryoma, you’d have to go all the way around, but with the fight against xander you could break the wall and fight (did that the first time and it was too anticlimatic that i decided to suffer angst and go all the way around. also xp—).

its just a nice way to summarize/end conquest (ignoring the final fight w …? idk garon ???) since a lot of conquest was just about struggling between keeping your true plans a secret from your possessed father and his army and then struggling w managing resources (that is you dont visit others castles; i did not—)

[astaroth1357]

Demigod MC Series: Ares

Demigod MC Series: Intro, Aphrodite, Hermes, Hades, Dionysus, Demeter, Athena, Hades Pt. 2, Poseidon, Ares

Lucifer

He cannot overstate what kind of damage this mortal was able to do in their first few seconds in the Devildom...

The instant they got to their feet, they had managed to incapacitate Satan and knock down Beel. Lucifer himself tried to get between them and Diavolo but…

If he hadn’t moved his head, if he was standing just ONE INCH to the left… he wouldn’t have a head anymore. Barbatos was there to intervene, but had he not they could have probably taken out the Avatar of Pride and done critical damage to the Demon Prince himself in one strike...

Frankly, Lucifer prefers not to dwell on that moment... He's sure Ares must be proud of this one...

He pretty much treats the mortal like a live bomb afterward, if he can get away with not interacting with them at all, that’s what he’ll do.

He’s NOT scared of them... much... It’s just that they have a bullish and uncooperative attitude at best and since they know they can take any of them, they don't even consider him - Lucifer, the eldest demon brother - a threat...

But you know what the most frustrating thing is? They won't give him an inch of respect, but they'll always listen to Levi! Levi!!

Look, Lucifer knows he may not hold a rank among the Hell's army and he might not have been a major player in the Celestial/Demonic wars of the day, but he's still the strongest demons here, dammit!! 😡

Lucifer finds nothing is more embarrassing than having to ask Levi of all people to keep the mortal in line because he can't... Oh, the humiliation… He hopes they leave soon...

Mammon

At first, he thought they were scary. But in time he thought they were scary… and also pretty damn awkward.

Mammon wasn’t there when they more or less wiped out the majority of his brothers in the Conference Hall but when he finally showed up he'd never seen Lucifer look so pale… If THAT doesn't make you shit your pants, he doesn't know what will.

Naturally, he kind of toned it down on the "stupid human" stuff real quick after seeing that…

But here's the thing. After the two made a pact together, Mammon started to notice that the MC wasn't all that mean, they were just… violent?

He legitimately thought that they couldn’t stand him for a while until one day a guy on the street called him a dirtbag. The MC threw a punch right there! No questions asked, they just decked that guy!!

It was kind of touching… and messy. Very messy. Did he mention that they’re terrifying yet? 😥

As it turns out, the MC has apparently spent a lot of their life just fighting things and being asked to fight things so they're not very used to showing non-violent affection… 

It took him awhile, but he realized that their way of saying, "I like you," is, "I will attack your enemies." So now all he does when his brothers tease him is say, "I'm telling MC!'' and they'll stop immediately. It's great!! 😁

Considers them to be his bodyguard when he goes out to gamble in some… shadier places. Most of the time not even the bouncers want to take on the MC, ain't nobody getting paid enough to lose that many teeth…

Leviathan

Okay, so. It's not very obvious anymore, but he USED to be on the front lines of the war against demons in the Celestial Realm. He was in charge of battle strategies, he led armies, and even now he still holds the highest rank of the royal navy!

So leave it to the kid of a war god to sniff all that out about him, huh…? They appeared to know all about his record the instant they saw him and they actually seemed to respect him for it!

For context, this mortal tells pretty much everybody to shove off but any time he’s around they call him “Admiral” or “sir” and actually pay attention to what he says! He can tell it drives Lucifer insane, but honestly? It’s a bit of an ego boost. 😌

It’s sort of cute when they come to him asking for tactical advice… They get just as into it as he does with his anime and any time he points out something that they haven't seen before they get so excited it's like they're a kid watching a magic trick. HUGE ego boost. 😏

Speaking of anime, it’s hit or miss whether or not they can watch any of it. Anything with good fight scenes (and let’s be honest, not that much talking) they’re on board for. But if the hero and the villain talk to each other for like an episode before throwing punches then the MC will just rant...

MC: “The enemy is distracted... Why aren’t they attacking yet??”

Levi: “Because the villain killed the hero’s best friend and they’re-”

MC: “They could avenge their friend right now if they ended things right here!”

Levi: “MC, we’ve been over this... That’s not how plot works.”

MC: “And now he got away!! See?? They should have killed him when they had the chance!”

Levi: “*sigh*... Let’s just play some CoD.”

Satan 

The last thing he remembered when the “human” hopped out of the portal was a sharp pain to the side of the temple and Asmo wailing as he fell unconscious…

Yeeeeah, not great. And unfortunately for the mortal the Avatar of Wrath tends to hold a grudge… 

For a comparatively brief moment in time, all of Satan’s considerable ire had shifted away from Lucifer and to their new housemate. They found their bed, clothes, pillows, food, and even their toothbrush cursed!

… But Ares kids must be built from some strong stuff, because half of what he employed didn’t even faze them! He even put an explosive spell on their backpack and not only did they tank the blast, it didn’t hurt them at all!! It was like they’re damn near immortal!

Annnnd they kind of are. Apparently the MC had taken a dip in the River Styx at some point before and became nigh invulnerable…

Was it maybe a little terrifying to know that they had kidnapped a nearly invincible demigod on the level of Achilles? Yes. Did that also mean that they must have had a weakness too? In theory....

Satan honestly devoted a depressing amount of time trying to uncover the “Achilles’ Heel” of his new sworn enemy… until…

The MC was walking with him and Asmo to RAD one morning when they passed by a group of lesser demons harassing a small puppy. Now Satan may be more of a cat man, but NO ONE fucks with animals while he’s around.

He was right about to go over and rip those demons a new one but the MC actually beat him to it! Apparently, the second that they realized what was happening, they launched themselves forward and started bashing the abusers' heads into a wall!

… Live by violence, forgive by violence because in that very moment Satan decided they weren’t so bad after all. He even joined in!

Oh, Asmo gave them both shit all day for the bloodstains on their uniforms and the scratches on their… everywhere, but it’s not like either of them cared. Righteous justice had been served and it was glorious!!

100% would team up with the MC in some kind of vigilante “punish-all-animal-abusers” gig. They have but to ask. 😌

Asmodeus

Oh they TERRIFIED Asmo when they first showed up! How else was he supposed to react?? They brought down his brothers like they were made of cardboard!!

Though he had to admit that the confident, battle-ready look they had about them was sexy as hell, he knew better than to go bear poking! 😣 He avoided them like plague until they finally asked him for a pact.

And then he discovered something… something very unexpected….

They're actually adorable!!!

Okay, like, not in appearance (they look like they could pile drive Cerberus for Pete’s sake!) but he discovered that they have NO CLUE how to handle physical affection. Like zero!!

The first time Asmo actually got the courage to try and hug them he expected them to toss him off, but instead they just stood there like a malfunctioning doll, all flustered and confused… It was so cute!!! 🥰

From that point on, Asmo would take every chance he could to wrap his arms around them or kiss their cheeks just to watch them try and fail to handle it. It's more fun than picking on Levi!!

It took two months for them to finally attempt any kind of reciprocation and even that was adorable! They pecked him on the forehead without thinking about it then nearly passed out from the realization. Apparently, they had never felt like kissing anyone before so he was quite honored!

The brothers know that if the MC's looking too mad to listen to Levi, they just need to call Asmo. A nigh invincible warrior becomes a LOT less scary after you’ve cuddled them into submission! 🤭

Beelzebub

Beel didn't like them one bit, at least not at the beginning. They had managed to get past him and actually attack Lucifer which was NOT a great first impression on their part...

He honestly saw them as a threat for a while, but unlike the rest of his brothers he didn’t avoid them. He just kept an eye on them.... constantly….

Look. Beel is a big guy. Stealth is not his strong suit… If he's tailing you, you're probably going to know about it because there's a six-foot something behemoth in orange following you around while pounding down bags of chips. He's not very subtle…

That being said, after following them around for a while the two finally got to talking and he realized that they didn’t want to hurt anybody or anything. They were just acting on instinct before.

After making the MC promise not to hurt any of his family, they got on much better terms. Hell, he actually got them into fangol!

Beel's sport of choice is pretty much just ultra-violent American football so the MC took a liking to it instantly! After enough begging, the coach let them try out and they got onto his team immediately.

He likes having them as a teammate! They're very good at the game, uh... even if they take it a little too seriously…

They once tried to convince his teammates to decorate the team bus with "the helmets of their fallen foes." They're REALLY into the sport… But hey, they haven't lost a game since they’ve joined. It’ll be fine!... Probably.

Belphegor

Hahaha… He’s in danger… 😥

It took one look at this mortal to make him rethink the whole, “Trick the Human” plan… Since when have humans looked like that?? They could crush his skull under their heel!!

It took all he had in him to play it cool when they first met because his internal monologue was nothing but screaming… THIS was the "human" he had to use to get him out of there?? How in the WORLD was he going to kill them?!

Admittedly, he had to think about it for a while. Belphie's a clever guy… and a demon. So who needs an honorable fight, anyway? If he can’t win one-on-one, then he’ll cheat!

He waited until the MC got the door open and didn't attempt a frontal assault… No laughter, no gloating. He just waited for them to turn their back, claws ready to dig out their heart, and then-!

MC: "Do you really want to try that?"

The MC must have had some kind of danger sense, because they didn't even have to turn around to know what Belphie was doing…

MC: "Look. I like Beel and you're his twin brother… So I'm willing to let this slide. But if you really want to try me…"

MC: *looks over their shoulder with the glare of a bona fide killer* "I won't hold back."

That was... very persuasive.

The MC brought Belphie down to the others peacefully with his tail between his legs and honestly Lucifer was more relieved that he wasn’t a bloodstain on the floor than he was mad… They could have killed him sooo easily… 

They did, indeed, forgive and forget about the whole “attempted murder” thing, though Belphie was never quite able to shake off how frightening they were in that moment… He had nightmares for a while.

Thankfully, Asmo clued him in that the MC would melt into a harmless puddle of fluff if they got even the slightest bit of physical affection... Oh, the sweet payback he could dish out... It’s cuddle time. 😏

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Silent Treatment (Ethan x MC)

Summary: Naomi decides that if Ethan isn’t going to treat her like a valued member of the team, she’ll teach him a little lesson.

Based on chapter 1, some spoilers for chapter 2, and my own speculation, so read at your own risk.

I highkey hate this but I’m posting it anyway

~v~

Naomi is quiet. No, she is unusually quiet. Ethan has seen her get silent when it’s time to buckle down and focus on a task, or if something is weighing heavily on her, but at this point he knows her well enough to know it’s neither of those. She’s withdrawn, and he doesn’t understand why.

Her presence is hard to miss, the young resident has enough charm and charisma in her pinky finger to dazzle an entire room. And she’s never this quiet. Naomi demands to be heard at all times. With unapologetic vivacity. With her hands. Eyes sparkling when she gets an idea, or fiery when she needs to dig her toes into something and fight. Nothing about Naomi Valentine is ever subdued, so why the hell is she so silent?

She didn’t speak much during the last few team meetings. He and Harper have led all of the conversations, bouncing ideas back and forth, building off of each other’s ideas. Occasionally, Naomi would offer input, merely to agree or disagree with a theory, before going back into her shell.

It’s even bleeding into their personal life. For the better part of the past 3 months, she’s stayed with him, the two of them holed up in his apartment in the Back Bay, but now she’s opting to stay at her own place. It’s been going on a few days now, this random despondence, and Ethan isn’t a fan of it. He’d take it a step further and say it's driving him crazy. This isn’t the woman he’s known for the past two years, even at her lowest was she never this reclusive.

As he walks down the halls of Edenbrook, he spots Naomi, her personality back to what it once was. She’s with Ines at a vending machine, and Naomi wastes no time animatedly talking to the now attending about a fun date she went on with her girlfriend.

Heart hammering wildly in his chest, Ethan swallows thickly as he listens to her talk. He’s missed the sound of her voice, the affectionate way her strong accent curls around her ‘r’s’ and dramatically elongates her ‘o’s’. It becomes clear that she’s willing to talk, just not to him. Ethan doesn’t like that idea at all, but it’s the only one that makes sense. And if that’s the case, he needs to get to the bottom of things and remedy the situation.

“Naomi, can we talk please?” He asks once Ines is no longer in their presence.

He doesn’t miss the way she bristles upon hearing his voice. But Naomi nods anyway. “Sure, what’s wrong?”

“Can we talk in the office?”

The walk back to the seventh floor is marked with awkward silence as Naomi refuses to initiate conversation with him. The more time ticks on, the more anxiety settles in Ethan’s chest. What’s going on with her that she refuses to divulge?

The office is unoccupied when they arrive, as Harper has already gone home for the evening. Naomi stands by the door, opting not to settle into a seat or even move further into the room. Everything about her body language reads that she’s poised and ready to strike at any given moment. He frowns. She’s never been this defensive against him, at least when they’re not in the middle of an argument. “What’s going on?”

“Are you okay?”

The question catches Naomi off guard. She blinks slowly before shrugging in nonchalance. “I’m fine, Ethan.”

“You’re fine? Really?”

“Is there a reason why I shouldn’t be fine?”

“Not really, but you haven’t been acting like yourself recently.”

Because you’ve been quieter than a church mouse for the past few days. You don’t talk during meetings, you’re silent when we interact with the patients, it’s like you’ve completely tuned out.”

With the way he’s been acting, Naomi is almost shocked that he even realized what she’s been doing. Wow, so maybe the great Ethan Ramsey hasn’t lost his attention to detail.

“Oh, so you’ve actually noticed?”

“I’m a diagnostician, I notice everything,” Ethan deadpans. He can feel the sarcasm wafting off of her. “What, was this an intentional act for my attention?”

“Intentional, yes. But for your attention? Not necessarily,” Naomi answers.

His eyes narrow at her, his gaze near piercing. She’s playing some sort of childish game with him, first with not speaking and now with the vague half answers. “Okay, so walk me through your thought process. Why has the cat stolen your tongue?”

“I decided that if my input wasn’t going to be valued during team discussions, I might as well not speak at all.”

Ethan gapes at her, confused. Where did that come from? “Naomi, what on earth are you talking about? When have I ever not valued your input?”

“I’m talking about the fact that for the past two cases, I’ve stood on the sidelines while you’ve either cut me off mid-sentence to talk over me, or ignore my presence altogether. I might as well blend into the wall.”

“That’s not–”

Naomi doesn’t give him the chance to refute.  “Please spare me the attempt at arguing. Last week, Harper’s first day on the team, you literally had to circle back to me because you cut me off while I was speaking. And now, we’re working on a case, and you and Harper aren’t even taking this patient seriously! I’ve had to redirect the conversation and tell you guys to focus, because you two were too busy acting like bosom buddies, sharing anecdotes about hangovers, and stupid flamenco lessons, and dates you went on in the past, which is not only inappropriate and disrespectful to the patient’s time, it’s disrespectful to me.”

“So either you are completely oblivious, which I find hard to believe for someone as astute as you are, or you have no respect for me, not just as your colleague, but as the woman you claim to be in a relationship with,” Naomi continues. The floodgates have been opened and now that she’s started, she can’t stop herself. “And maybe it’s the latter, because I set that standard. I’ve let you go days, weeks, months without speaking to me with zero consequence, I’ve let you shut me out and slam doors in my face, make snide comments last year when we were treating Leland, I’ve let you have carte blanche over the pace of this relationship. I’ve always just been here and allowed your shitty social graces and piss poor communication skills to rule, and time and time again, you’ve gone unscathed, but now I’m just really tired of it.”

For the first time in a long, Ethan doesn’t have a clue what to say, and as always, Naomi is the woman who puts him in this position.

“Naomi, you can’t possibly think that I think so little of you.”

He can tell by the way her eyes darken that he put his entire foot in his mouth just now. The warning bells go off in his brain, and he scrambles to think of how he can correct this latest blunder.

Naomi bites down on her lip, and she’s actually shocked her mouth isn’t instantly flooded with the metallic taste of blood. She’s getting Punk’d obviously. The office is bugged, and Ashton Kutcher is going to jump out and announce his presence soon. That has to be it. Ethan has to be pranking her, because there’s no way a 38 year old man could ever be so dense, right? Surely his response to her grievances isn’t to dismiss her claims.

“You know what? You’re being obtuse, and we clearly aren’t getting anywhere, so I’m going to cut this conversation off now.”

She refuses to look like the psycho in this scenario and breathe any more life into this argument, and she’s not about to plead her case any further like she’s the one in the wrong.

Ethan’s eyes soften, and he takes a step forward, arms outstretched to touch, soothe whatever hurts he’s heaped upon her, but Naomi sidesteps, moving out of his reach.

If he wasn’t nervous at the start of this conversation, he is now. If the physical act of Naomi blatantly refusing to touch him wasn’t clear enough, the metaphorical chasm between the two of the just widened by a few yards as well. A chill races up and down the length of his spine.

“Naomi, I’m sorry,” Ethan says gently. “I…” His words taper off and he pauses, struggling for what he wants to say next. This has never been his strong point, being vulnerable.

And Naomi doesn’t offer him a lifeline. She’s not going to give him an out or assuage him of anything he’s currently feeling like she usually does. She’s laid out all of her cards, and things are in Ethan’s court at this point. Like always. 

“I’m going home,” she announces. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

~v~

The sun is barely out when Naomi shows up for work in the morning. Most of the hospital is still, the last of the night shift heading out as she’s on her way in. She heads towards the residents’ lounge, wanting to put her things away before checking in on her patients and having a team meeting.

As soon as she opens her locker, she spots a gorgeous bouquet of red roses wrapped in newspaper invading the space. There’s no note attached to the bouquet, and she spared a quick glance around the room to see if anyone else is there. The lounge is empty, save for another resident in the corner, sleeping.

Naomi takes the bouquet out of her locker, careful not to smash the petals and holds it up to her nose, inhaling deeply. 

Deciding to not put more thought into where they came from, Naomi simply cradles the bouquet in the crook of one of her arms, stuffs her bag into her locker, and continues on with her morning routine.

She’s passing by the nurses’ station on the 7th floor when someone catches her attention. “Oh Dr. Valentine! You have a special delivery.”

Her steps slow down as she approaches the front desk where Sarah, one of her favorite RNs is stationed. Sarah steps aside, revealing an even larger bouquet of roses, these ones white.

“Where did these come from?” Naomi asks.

“They were delivered about half an hour ago,” Sarah replies with a wink. “No note, though. I won’t let Dr. Ramsey know that you have a secret admirer.”

And that’s when it clicks into place. Memories of her fight with Ethan come flooding back, and it becomes clear that he’s the one gifting her these flowers. Before she even realizes she’s doing it, her eyes roll. If he thinks a couple of bouquets of roses are a good enough apology, he can think again.

Naomi plucks a white rose right from the center of the bouquet and hands it to Sarah. “For you.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“I insist,” Naomi says. “Happy Friday, Sarah.”

“Thank you, Dr. Valentine!”

Seeing the smile on the senior nurse’s face is almost enough to cleanse Naomi of the annoyance she feels towards Ethan in this moment. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Naomi manages to scoop up this new batch of flowers – they’re in a vase, to which she adds her red ones – and finishes her trek to the office.

She isn’t expecting it to be covered in bunches of bright yellow sunflowers.

Their communal desk is covered in them, along with Ethan’s personal desk and the couch. “What on earth was he thinking?”

“I was thinking that sunflowers are your favorite flower,” Ethan answers, and Naomi jumps, startled at his voice. She whips around and sees him standing in the doorway. “And so I got up well before the sun was shining, went to the Boston Flower Exchange and bought every single one I could get my hands on.”

“And the roses?”

“White is supposed to be symbolic of new beginnings and forgiveness,” Ethan explains. “And you simply can’t go wrong with red.”

“If you think buying me flowers is going to cut it, you must not know me well,” Naomi says. Him buying her things doesn’t impress her, no matter how much she jokes about his money.

“No, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.” Ethan takes a cautious step into the room, shutting the door behind him. A sleepless night without her beside him forced Ethan to do a lot of thinking about how he wanted this conversation to go. A peace offering is always a good start. “And it got you to talk to me.”

Naomi scoffs and sets her flowers down. “Barely.”

“I’m sorry,” Ethan says. “I’m an idiot, and an asshole.”

“It’s good that we can agree on something.”

Okay, it’s clear that she is not going to give him any leeway. “You were absolutely right to call me out on my behavior towards you.”

“Why did you do it?” Naomi asks.

“I wasn’t thinking,” Ethan says simply. “I got so caught up in having Harper on the team, and it’s easy to slip back into old habits without even realizing.”

“It wasn’t a simple one time thing. It was more than once that you and Harper completely forgot I was even there. And I like Harper, I don’t think I could respect her more than I already do, and I have a very healthy sense of self esteem, but even the toughest person on earth wouldn’t like being in my shoes, on the outside looking in while you and your ex reminisce on old dates and inside stories. Ethan, you couldn’t handle a modicum of the shit I have willingly put up with in order to be with you.”

His stomach knots up at the thought of an ex-boyfriend of Naomi’s coming into his personal space, sharing personal jokes with her, ignoring him, and monopolizing her time. If the thought of it had him this twisted, he can’t believe he’s been putting her through that reality.

“You were right to call me out on my bad communication skills. I am terrible at relationships. I’m not using it as an excuse, it’s just the truth. But I’ve gotten complacent, which is unacceptable.” Ethan takes another step towards Naomi, and when she doesn’t instantly recoil, he takes it as a sign to get even closer. “The last thing I ever want to do is stifle your voice, or make you feel invisible. Naomi, you are...invaluable. To this hospital, to this team, to me, and I am so sorry that there was ever a time where I made you feel like you weren’t. You are the most important person in my life, and what we have is something I’ve never had with anyone else.”

“Okay, so start acting like it,” Naomi challenges. “I’m your equal and I demand every bit of respect you have to offer. Anything less than that cannot be tolerated anymore, personally or professionally.”

Ethan nods emphatically at her words. “Of course.”

“I mean it.”

“You have my word, Naomi. I’ll never let it happen again.” He closes the gap between them and cups her face in his hand. “Just please...never give me the silent treatment again. Yell from the rooftops, argue with me, I don’t care, but I can’t take not hearing your voice.”

“You needed to be taught a lesson,” Naomi says simply.

“I learned my lesson, and I hated it,” Ethan confesses, his lips dangerously close to hers. Naomi doesn’t budge, not even an inch. She’s terribly stubborn, even at the end of a fight. “It was torture.”

“Good.” Deciding to put him out of his misery, Naomi tilts her head up and captures Ethan in a kiss. He doesn’t waste a single second returning it. His free hand wraps around the small of her back, pulling her in closer. How did he go this long without touching her?

He doesn’t know how long they’ve been kissing, but he finally breaks apart from her long enough to bury his face in her neck, allowing her scent and soft skin to soothe any of his fraught nerves. She smells like home.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” Ethan asks.

“The jury is still out on that one.”

“You’re going to make me work for this, aren’t you?”

“Are you up for the challenge?”

Ethan untangles himself from their embrace and takes a step back, so he’s able to look Naomi in the eyes. He takes her hand and presses a soft kiss into her palm. “For you? I’ll do just about anything.”

~v~

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[wesokkasimp]

general zuko relationship headcanons

-hmm

-so i’m writing these for a post-war relationship

-don’t mind me projecting my crush on firelord!zuko

-this boy def doesn’t ask you out right away

-too nervous for that

-i know i said in my long distance h/c that he would propose right away, but that was for an established relationship

-if y’all aren’t already dating expect to be waiting a lil while

-once things have kinda… settled in the world? like it’s still rather unstable, but at this point most passive aggressiveness between nations is gone

-that’s when zuko would finally take some time for himself and his personal relationships

-if you had left the Fire Nation after the war to do other things, he may have realized he missed you more than the others

-and he missed you in a different way

-with the others he just missed interactions and the good times they had as team avatar

-and he missed that with you too

-but he also just kind of craves your presence

-your scent, your warmth, your touch, your voice

-he could probably sit in a room with you silently all day

-taking in the very essence of you

-because there’s just so much to take in

-when he realizes this, he doesn’t peg it as a crush at first

-zuko’s the guy that can read his friends and loved ones like a book but cannot decode his own feelings for the life of him

-poor kid :(

-he probably just pegs it as knowing you better than the others

-especially if you grew up in the Fire Nation

-ESPECIALLY especially if y’all grew up around each other

-but he starts to question his line of reasoning when you come to visit

-he hasn’t seen you since the southern water tribe drama

-and it’s been two or three years since then

-so you get off… the boat? idk wtf they use for transportation

-he’s waiting at the bottom of the harbor

-he knew when you stepped off the landing and he saw you for the first time in years

-he knew when all it took for him, a very focused person, to become distracted was you paging through a file of things for your work, a furrow in your brow

-when he can normally work through various natural disasters (the Fire Nation is an kind of an archipelago so i assume they get lots of hurricanes/tsunamis and stuff like that)

-THAT was when this boy finally came to his senses and realized he had a thing for you

-but him acting on it? that’s a whooooole different story

-HE’S SO SHY AND NERVOUS OMFG IT’S CUTE

-but it’s also a little annoying at times

-because for years he’s been loud and boisterous with you

-and now that he knows he has a thing for you he doesn’t know how to act

-you don’t catch on tho (thank god for him)

-like you know he’s acting different, but you don’t know why

-he knows you’re gonna figure out what’s going on if he doesn’t fix his behaviour soon

-so he keeps an air of normality around you

-but on the inside he’s still super shy and nervous

-zuko doesn’t have a ton of experience with relationships in general but especially romantic ones

-i don’t think he would’ve gotten with someone after mai broke up with him

-it took him a little bit to get over her, as seen in smoke and shadow

-he’s also a busy guy in general; not tons of time for dates

-iroh may have set up a few dinner dates but nothing substantial has grown from those

-so… in conclusion… king has no idea what the fuck he’s doing

-mai was a pretty special case as she was ridiculously low maintenance and showed zero emotion

-aka exactly like zuko

-i feel like them being so alike was probably one of the reasons their relationship didn’t work out

-like… i’m showing no emotion, you’re showing no emotion, i’m not gonna coax emotions out of you, you’re not gonna coax emotions out of me, we both bottle up anger at each other, ourselves, the world, etc, aaaand cue huge screaming match

-getting off topic whoopz

-since mai was so much like zuko, he had an idea of how to court her

-if he thought something sounded stupid, mai would probably think that too

-but it’s a different story with you

-you might have similarities to zuko but you’re not EXACTLY like him (if you are sorry but i had to make y/ns persona less generic)

-so… romantically? has no clue what the fuck you’re looking for in a relationship

-even if he knows you really well platonically, he thinks that doesn’t translate into romantic relations because he’s clueless ok

-so zuko decides on the subtle approach

-would he confess? no! of course not !!

-but do his touches tend to linger?

-does he let you catch him staring at you?

-is he suddenly very invested in the dating scene wherever you’re living?

-...yes

-and you’re not stupid, you catch on

-and… honestly, there’s no big confession from either of you

-things just sort of evolve on their own

-you end up staying in the Fire Nation a lot longer than you originally planned

-fun excursions that were once platonic turn more and more sensual and flirty

-pats on the back and high fives slowly become back rubs and hand holding

-but... HE STILL HASN’T ASKED YOU OUT

-at this point no one know what the fuck your relationship is

-friends? lovers? fwb? 

-no one can figure it out

-least of all you

-i wish i could make zuko super smooth and have this super romantic confession but that would be so ooc for him

-HE TRIES HIS BEST BUT ROMANCE IS HARD FOR HIM OK >:(

-what probably happened was he took you out to dinner

-and you’re tired of not knowing what you are to him

-so you’re like zuko? what are we to each other?

-and he has been DREADING this question

-he knew it was coming eventually

-and to be honest he’s not quite sure either

-he knows he likes you as more than a friend

-and he’s pretty sure you feel the same way

-so he decides to go out on a limb and speak his mind (finally omfg)

- “More than friends, I think. I mean, I think of you as more than a friend… I think you feel the same way? Or-”

-“Zuko, it’s fine. I like you as more than a friend too, but we don’t have to label ourselves right away.”

-the boy is RELIEVED

-it’s like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders

-he’s not the kind of guy that says “i don’t like labels” as an excuse to fool around

-even though you never really talked about it, it’s a silent agreement that you’re both exclusive

-so… i mean that’s basically dating 

-our boy just has commitment issues ok 😔

-eventually you start kissing him in the cheek

-when i tell you he was FLUSTERED when you did that the first time

-i honestly can’t decide if zuko hates pda or loves it 

-he’s touch starved, so idk if he really craves or is really hesitant to physical contact

-if it’s the former, expect hand holding, cheek/forehead kisses, him wrapping his arm around your waist, etc 

-even if he likes pda he keeps it professional

-if it’s the latter…

-the only consistent pda you’re gonna get is hand holding

-if ANYONE gives you shit for something like your socioeconomic status before you started dating zuko or if you came from somewhere outside the Fire Nation

-he will get annoyed and tell them off as politely as possible 🥰

-as for marriage…

-he wouldn’t really think it out that much if he was trying to decide if he wanted to marry you

-by the time he would be considering marriage, he knows right away that he does in fact want to marry you

-his PROPOSAL, however

-he definitely plans this big thing and then somehow messes it up after practicing it a bunch of times

-you still say yes ofc

-zuko is pretty dedicated to the Fire Nation, so he will most likely follow most traditional aspects of the Fire Lord and Lady’s wedding

-he’d integrate important wedding traditions if your culture if you’re from another nation

-married life would be pretty similar to pre married life

-he just gets to call you his wife now :)))

-so it’s canonical that people try to assassinate zuks

-like ALL the time

-he felt like he could handle it but once you moved in with him he started to become very worried :(

-so he beefed up the security around his quarters. even if you also have training in combat he just wants to sleep a little sounder

-hngh if y’all want kids that can be another post this is already kinda long

-that all folks :)

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AHHHHH HI THESE ARE VERY LATE BUT THEY ARE HERE,,,,, anyways might have to turn off my inbox because,,, uh,,, very angry anti semites and zionists in there rn don’t really feel like getting death threats today

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Dead Man’s Cell Phone--Chapter 3

Summary: When Emma Swan starts getting phone calls and texts from an unfamiliar number, she decides to check it out–only to discover the number belongs to a Killian Jones, who was killed in a robbery gone wrong six months ago.  With some help from a medium, Merlin Emrys, Emma hopes to find out why a dead guy is contacting her–and why she feels such a strong pull to someone she has never met before.

Rating: K+

Welcome to my entry for the Captain Swan Supernatural Summer! A big thank you to @cssns​​, the ladies on the Discord!  Thank you also to @eastwesthomeisbest​​, my artist and my beta @veryverynotgood​​!

Other Chapters: Prologue 1 2 4 Epilogue 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Wait...what?” Emma sputtered.  “He’s not dead?  How is that possible?  I thought you said you sensed his spirit or whatever.”

Merlin nodded, brows furrowed.  “Something...unusual...is certainly going on here, though I’m at a loss as to what it might be.  I certainly sense his spirit, but I also sense your friend is correct.  Killian Jones has not yet passed over to the spirit world.”

“So,” Emma said after a moment, “does that mean he really was asking for my help?  That there’s some guy out there who’s, I don’t know, lying in a ditch or something and I can save him?”

Merlin closed his eyes, concentrating.  He appeared to be listening intently.  Finally he nodded, opened his eyes and looked back at Emma.  “He says he doesn’t know where he is, doesn’t know exactly what happened to him.  He remembers you, Emma, remembers running into you before--whatever happened to leave him in his current state.”

Remembers running into me?  What did that even mean?

“So--this Killian, he knows me?” Emma asked.  

“Not exactly,” Merlin said.  “You met once, and let’s just say you made quite an impression.  You were fresh on Killian’s mind when his mishap occurred.  No doubt that’s the reason his spirit attached itself to you.  He sensed a kindred spirit, sensed you were someone who could hear him, come to his aid.”

“Well if that’s what he thought, I think he’s probably screwed,” Emma murmured, feeling the helplessness and agitation rise.  “I’m no savior or whatever.  I don’t even know who this guy is, let alone where he is or how to find him.  It’s just...just too much.”

Merlin leaned forward and put a comforting hand on Emma’s forearm.  “Just breathe, Emma,” he soothed, modeling the advice for her until she joined in, until her heart rate slowed, and she felt much less like she was about to lose control.  “You have the heart of a hero.  You keep your walls high, feeling the need to protect yourself, but underneath it all beats the heart of someone who wishes to be of service to her fellow man and woman.  You may not believe it, but trust me--Killian Jones’s faith in you was not misplaced.  You got his messages.  You followed up on them.  You came to me, even though you do not believe in my abilities.  I have every confidence in the world that because of you, Killian Jones will be found and saved.”

Emotions hit Emma hard.  Growing up in the system as she had, she’d always felt like a lost little girl who didn’t matter to anyone and never would.  Merlin would never know just how much his words meant to her.

And Killian.  Though she’d never met him--or at least she didn’t remember it if she had--she strangely felt a deep, abiding gratitude and affection for him because of his faith in her.  Whether it made sense or not, she somehow knew Merlin spoke the truth.  She knew Killian believed in her; that he was connected to her in some weird, psychic way that she couldn’t explain.

It made her all the more convinced that whatever it took, she would find him, and she would save him.

“Thanks,” she said thickly, feeling keenly just how insufficient the small word was.  “But what now?  How do we find him?”

“Ask him yourself,” Merlin said.  “You’re the one with the strongest connection to him.  Ask him where he is; how we can find him.”

Emma took a deep breath, looking around the room, not knowing where exactly to direct her words.  “Um…” she said, “so I don’t know if you can hear me or whatever, but we need help finding you.  Do you know where you are?  Can you see anything?  Hear anything?  Are you...are you in pain?”

Merlin closed his eyes again for a moment, listening, and then he returned his attention to Emma.  “Killian doesn’t know where he is, but he assures you he’s as comfortable as can be expected.  He can’t see anything, but he hears beeping, people moving in and out, some speaking to him, others merely speaking about him.”

“I wonder…” Emma mused, “what if someone found him, took him to the hospital?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“I was just wondering if you have any John Does,” Emma asked the woman at the welcome desk of Storybrooke General Hospital.  “I’m looking for someone who might have been brought here, maybe several months ago.”

The woman perked up.  “There is one man.  He was brought in six months ago with severe head wounds; has been in a coma ever since.  The cops found him near an alley. We haven’t had any luck finding out his identity or really anything about him.”

Emma’s heart pounded.  This was him.  She knew it; she could feel it.

“Can you take me to him?” Emma asked.  “It may sound weird, but I think I can help.”

The woman smiled gently at her.  “We’ve been waiting such a long time for one of his loved ones to show up.  He’s quite a favorite of the nurses.  He’s rather easy on the eyes, after all.”

Emma felt the heat creep up her cheeks at the implication she was Killian’s loved one.  She didn’t even know the man, after all, as much as it might feel like she did.  “Yeah, well, uh...can I see him?”

“Of course!”

The woman led Emma and Merlin down a hallway and through a pair of glass double doors into the bright, sunny intensive care unit.  This place was oddly cheerful for a place of such desperation.

No sooner were they through the door than Emma’s eyes found the dark haired man on the bed, and recognition flared immediately.

“Wait, I’ve seen him before!” she exclaimed to Merlin.  “I was running late one day, and that guy ran into me--literally.  Made me drop my sack of groceries.  I was kind of rude to him, honestly.  Felt bad about it afterwards, but it was just one of those days, you know?”

Merlin smiled.  “That moment was when your connection was forged.  Killian is still speaking to me.  He says you’ve nothing to feel bad about.  Your encounter, brief as it was, pulled him from some rather dark thoughts.  Despite what happened afterwards, he’s grateful to you.”

It was an odd feeling, finally coming face to face with the man who’d been calling and texting her--the man who’d been unconscious for months.  He was there and yet he wasn’t.

She hadn’t the slightest clue what she was meant to do now, and so she did the only thing she could--she pulled up a chair and sat next to Killian’s bedside.

Some time later, Emma didn’t know how long, a doctor came in, a man with bleached blond hair and far more self-confidence than anyone had the right to.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Whale,” the man introduced himself, extending his hand.  “I was told you were here.  You’re John Doe’s--?”

“Uh, friend,” Emma said uncomfortably.  “So what’s being done for him?  What’s his prognosis?”

“I can’t give you any details,” Dr. Whale said, “privacy laws and all of that, but he’s stable.  We’re keeping him comfortable; that’s about all we can do at the moment.”

The man did a quick examination, exchanged a few more pleasantries and then moved on to his next patient.

“That’s not precisely true, Emma,” Merlin whispered as soon as the doctor was out of earshot.  “There may not be anything more they can do, but there may very well be something more you can do.”

“What do you mean?  What can I do that a doctor can’t?”

“Bring him back to himself,” Merlin said simply.  “Coax him to wake up.”

Oh, is that all?  “How exactly am I supposed to do that?” Emma asked.

“Graham is still with us,” Merlin said rather than address the question itself.  “He wants you to know he believes in you.  You already have the answers within you.  All you need to do is trust yourself.”

For a moment Emma wanted to scream.  What kind of an answer was that?  How the hell could she wake a guy from a coma?  What, was she supposed to yell in his ear or something?

But little by little, Emma realized Merlin was right.  She didn’t know how, but somehow she knew exactly what she needed to do.  Getting to her feet, Emma went to the bedside and took Killian’s hand.  With her other hand, she brushed his fringe from his face and then cupped his stubbled jaw, letting her thumb caress his cheek.

“It’s time to wake up now,” she said in a soft voice.  “Killian, come back to me.”

For a moment nothing happened, and then suddenly his startlingly blue eyes opened, zeroing in on her face before a wide, delighted smile graced his lips.

“Swan,” he breathed, “at last!”

 Notes:

--Yay!  Killian woke up!

--Up next:  We get some answers about what really happened to Killian.  Also, do you remember the other desperate/angry spirit that was with Emma/Merlin/Graham earlier?  He shows up again...and it turns out he has a lot of answers for us.

                                                                                            Next Chapter-->

[fellowstrangetownappreciator]

The Strange Case of The Strangetown Metamorphosis

There is a mysterious Sim that appears in Strangetown.

That's like saying "there is a fish that appears in the ocean", I know, so I'll be a little more specific.

They are an adult whose memories show inconsistencies with those of their family members. Something is missing!

Alright. That's also not saying much, that's like half of the premades in vanilla, non-clean hoods.

They are immediately recognizable by their appearance and, dare I say it, have distinguishing features unique to them.

Well, that also kinda fits everyone...

They feature in more than one installment of the series.

Again, not that helpful. I mean, almost everybody from the base game hoods is (for better or worse) represented in TS3 or TS4.

They appear in TS2 for PSP!

Hmm...

They are a member of a wealthy family connected to science and paranormal.

And...

They are somehow connected to (possible) cloning.

I imagine that now you’re probably rolling your eyes and asking: Why didn’t I just simply say I was going to talk about Bella Goth?

Because... I’m not!

It’s Loki Beaker. In this mini-essay I’m going to speak about Loki, what is the mystery around him, what hints are there and what are some of the theories and which one do I fancy.

It’s basically a routine round of the popular game “connect EAxis’ oversights and glue them together into a headcanon”.

So without further ado, let me introduce you to:

The Mystery of Loki Beaker!

0: Preface: Loki who?

“As soon as he perfects his latest invention, Loki is sure to get the recognition he knows he deserves. In the meantime, he keeps himself busy by trying to assemble a nuclear reactor out of common household items.”

On the first glance, Loki as a Sim seems quite straightforward. He is a Knowledge Sim with a very eccentric personality. All his trait points are in the extremes, as you can see:

He is a scientist, a competent one at that, as proven by his high career level and the fun fact that some of the game’s horrible machinery you can buy for Aspiration points is attributed to his creation.

(It explains why are the Beakers the only ones who have the stuff lying around by default. It is normal for a Strangetown family to own a non-buyable reward object or two but those are career rewards, the Beakers are the only one who canonically own Aspiration points rewards.)

Even though he knows his stuff when it comes to his profession, he is very corrupt and tests his questionable projects on his captive, Nervous Subject.

To say that Loki is unpopular would be an understatement. No one but his wife Circe likes Loki, even his own sister is indifferent towards him. Yes, he has a sister. Her name is Erin and she also lives in Strangetown with a colorful collection of roommates.

Nothing mysterious about him so far. (apart from his eyebrows)

1: Characterization fallen apart

And then The Sims 3 happened. It was actually quite late into the game’s life cycle, the early 2013, when a beautiful nordic-themed world was released on TS3 Store. Its name was Aurora Skies and it featured Loki, Erin and their parents.

TS3 Loki is a child and Erin is a toddler.

Now I haven’t actually played Aurora Skies. I own (and love) TS3 but the price range for the Store worlds is too high for me, content-to-money wise. So there might be some hidden clues about the Beakers in their house or relationship panels that I haven’t been able to inspect but... not to sound cynical but I doubt it. I doubt such attention was given to detail of this family in Aurora Skies, as they don’t even have individual bios.

But... that is... fine? I mean, we have Loki’s TS2 bio...

Nope. Sure we do. And it would be fine if hair color and ambitions weren’t the only thing Loki and his younger self (from now on referred to as smol Loki) had in common.

Let’s take a look on smol Loki’s personality.

The first noticeable thing is that there is not a trace of Loki’s trademark villainy. He’s not Mean Spirited, he’s not Evil, he’s not even a No Sense of Humor Sim. His extreme neatness and hyperactivity are nowhere to be seen either. While it is true that TS3′s capabilities of defining personality are very limited as it picks “outstanding points” rather than a position of each trait on a scale, and it only has 5 slots (and tiny teeny 3 for children), it doesn’t make any sense still for the devs not to pick some more loki-esque traits for the precious slots they had.

Unless...

They didn’t care about Loki’s personality and there were no deeper intentions.

Unless the devs were trying to purposefully show us new angles of his character that either got suppressed while he was growing up, or manifest in ways that TS2′s scale system wasn’t able to show.

Could the Lucky trait in particular have had something to do with the change?

(Also, those traits of smol Loki are reason why I usually go for a Family Secondary Loki in TS2 and thus make Strangetown the purgatory of two unstable blonde Knowledge/Family sciency guys.)

We also must not omit that even though smol Loki didn’t display any of them, he still had all of Loki’s signature traits in him, as Loki in TS2 has his actual personality synced with the genetic one, meaning that there was something in there that caused him not to act so mean that got lost as he grew up. In other words, something brought up the worst in him.

And that’s not all. Smol Loki is not a regular TS3 child. You see, in TS3, premade children aren’t particularly known for being highly skilled experts. Neither are in TS2, for that matter, and it’s okay. It’s realistic.

Smol Loki has a skill maxed.

It is very rare for a premade regardless of age to already start with a maxed skill and I personally don’t know of any other premade children that do.

And it’s writing.

What does writing have to do with Loki? Does Loki write? Probably he has to, those academic papers aren’t gonna spawn out of thin air, but that’s not what the writing skill in TS3 (or the hidden writing skill in TS2) are about. They’re about creative writing only.

Ok, ok. How high is Loki’s Creativity skill, then? In TS2, skills are much broader, they more resemble skillsets than individual skills, and writing categorizes under Creativity. Bring out the skill panel!

Two. He has 2 points in Creativity. That is... low. That is actually very low, especially for a Sim that has supposedly been writing for fun since childhood. (and was a prodigy, while we’re at it) It is safe to say, I think, that if the player doesn’t make him do it, Loki doesn’t write anymore and he hasn’t been doing that for a long, long time.

While I would cynically admit that the dissonance in personalities might be just the lack of damns given from EAxis’ side, this seems to me too on the nose to be unintentional.

They would have no reason to bring the Beakers back without the “evil scientists” thing in mind. I mean, that’s what they’re iconic for. That’s what they’re recognizable by. (apart from their eyebrows)

So the person who was in charge of creating smol Loki probably knew they were recreating “Loki the mad scientist”.

So when they were picking the skill they use to demonstrate that this kid is gonna go far, they thought... “evil scientist = writing”...?

I would understand going for Creativity in general. I mean, Loki’s an inventor. That comes with the territory. But creativity as such isn’t really a skill in TS3. It’s divided to different activities.

Wouldn’t it make more sense just in general to pick logic, then? I mean, Loki isn’t that extremely logical by default but it is his second strongest skill and a feature unmistakably connected to being a scientist.

That’s what leads me to believe that writing plays a role in the story and it was chosen on purpose.

So how did a sweet little family-oriented boy talented with words transform into the ruthless catboy inventor we know and love?

And that, my friends, is the mystery of Loki Beaker.

2: A closer look at our environmentalist friends, the Beakers

If we want to get the full picture and come to a satisfying conclusion of some sorts, we need to inspect smol Loki’s surroundings. Maybe there is a clue to the continuous force or a traumatic event that shifted smol Loki’s direction in life?

Loki’s and Erin’s parents are named Gundrun and Bjorn. Even though their age would still allow it, they’re not present at the start of TS2′s Strangetown play, they’re long dead. Bjorn died before Erin became an adult and Gundrun died shortly before her son’s engagement to Circe. Because they died by the time Loki had (presumably) already long enrolled in his current life-path, we can safely rule out any tragic early death of parental figures scenario as a possible answer.

Gundrun is the only Beaker that canonically also writes. She has 5 points in the writing skill. She also shares some traits with Loki, namely the smarts and ambition.

But she has little to do with science and is way more business-oriented which is a trait she shares with Circe’s ancestors, for example her father. Maybe the families knew each other from business ventures even before they moved to Strangetown? It is stated in their memories that Loki and Circe first met when they were children. But I digress!

Anyway, I don’t see anything in Gundrun that would suggest any abusive behavior towards her son that might have triggered his drastic change. Possibly but not necessarily she might’ve been a bit absent but nothing out of ordinary.

And now the father, Bjorn.

Bjorn is the sciency half of the couple and works as an Aquatic Ecosystem Tweaker. Again, he has zero traits that would raise any red flags and he shares 4 out of 5 traits with either smol Loki or Loki. (I don’t know if Loki is a “natural cook” but he cooks quite well, so I think that counts.)

What’s interesting about Bjorn, though, is his speech that serves as a flavor text for the Aurora Skies store page.

(Image transcript: “Do it for science! Science is everywhere around us, but at Aurora Skies it’s not just something you learn; it’s something you do!  We need bright young minds to make the dreams of the future a reality. Even now we’re finding more uses for garbage to help the planet. Charging batteries, powering machines - the sky is the limit. Just this last year we created a modified Hot Air Baloon using garbage as fuel and turning it into pure air with a pine breeze scent.  Now you can have efficient travel and an amazing romantic adventure with no cost to the ozone (or your nose)! Every year we’re creating more and more exciting things in the world of science. Garbage-powered hearts, heart-powered cars, solar-powered cats; what will you think of next!  It’s all up to you. Do it for Science! Did you know? Hot Air Balloons are an epic form of travel based around the simple principle that hot air is lighter than cold air.  They lift in the air based on the heat system in the balloon. Increasing the temperature of the air inside the balloon makes it lighter than the air outside and the balloon begins to float.  More air is required to lift heavier things; that’s why the balloons have to be so huge! How cool (or hot!) is that?”)

From this piece of text we can see Bjorn’s passion and dedication to “green” science. Nothing in his traits suggests he fakes it, so I think it’s safe to believe that this peppy idealist is a glimpse into Loki’s father’s genuine self.

He might have encouraged his children to follow in his footsteps (”We need bright young minds to make the dreams of the future a reality.“) and smol Loki, who later in life seemed to have similar levels of enthusiasm (science is his One True Hobby), might have been receptive to that.

Now just close your eyes for a second and imagine an alternate reality in which Loki picked up where Bjorn left and instead of a energy-refilling machine that electrocutes you if you’re not happy enough, he invented “solar-powered cats”.

Still no hints on what could’ve messed Loki up, though.

Let’s take a look at the parents in TS2. Even though they’re not present and aren’t even resurrectable, they’re still coded in the game for purposes of genetics, memories and family trees, so some of their characteristics are salvageable.

And by the Watcher, they were both Romance Sims.

They were workaholic Romance Sims who cared about the environment and liked recycling (and Hot Baloons).

And they were both extremely Nice and very Sloppy, if their personalities on wiki are something to go by. Which they unfortunately aren’t, at least not completely because most ancestors don’t simply have “their own” personalities and use presets instead, so they tend to be quite similar.

The same goes for most of the Beaker clan, unfortunately. Fun fact is that there is no Knowledge Sim in sight (before Loki, of course). Maybe they weren’t a scientist family, but a bunch of Romance Sims who used to spend their free time in between woohoos saving the planet with eco-science. (3 out of 6 of Loki’s and Erin’s ancestors were Romance Sims, 2 were Fortune and 1 was Family)

But! There is one outlier. Her name is Gertrude Beaker. She is Loki’s paternal grandmother.

And similarly to her grandson, she certainly has a personality to remember.

She doesn’t use a preset, this is a personality that someone went and manually assigned (...or generated) for her. And she is Neat, Outgoing and doesn’t have a nice bone in her body. But unlike Loki, she has a sense of humor (which makes her even more dangerous, in my opinion) and is extremely Lazy.

She is a Fortune Sim and the only Beaker who shares the darker sides of Loki’s personality. (to be clear, I don’t mean their taste for cleaning but the round 0 of Nice points)

Because she doesn’t feature in TS3 at all, it is safe to say that she wasn’t in her grandchildren’s lives until the family moved to Strangetown. Could she be the corrupting influence on smol Loki?

As far as personality comparison goes, she seems to be the only possible culprit, the only one who’s personality shares the same unpleasant qualities he became infamous for. But! That’s not saying much. There is no evidence she actually did anything.

There’s not even any evidence that she ever met her grandson, given he has no memory of her dying which means she might have died before he was even born. That would be a solid evidence on the contrary and would rule her out. But I’m leaving some maneuvering space for theories here because she is the only Beaker ancestor with custom personality, after all, and that is suspicious.

That’s all the Beakers we know of if not counting Atom and Ceres, who came after Loki, so they’re not relevant to the question of his childhood. Or... are they?

3: And that’s when the trouble began

Another part of this question that might help us discern what happened to Loki is the when. All we know so far is that there is a big void of unknown between smol Loki and regular Loki and the point of transformation happened in there somewhere.

Thankfully, we have something to give us an idea. It’s this snapshot in storytelling pictures for the Beakers:

It shows smol Loki destroying a dollhouse. It seems to be in an impersonal environment of some sorts. The cheapest bed in the game is against a bare white wall, the window is hid behind blue curtains and there doesn’t really seem to be anything else but the dollhouse, a teddy bear in the background and that... very unpleasant bed.

It clearly tells us that Loki’s shift started in his pre-teen years.

And seeing that room which is definitely not in the Beaker Castle at 1 Tesla Court, it makes me think of a hotel or a cheap apartment the family was staying in while moving from Aurora Skies to Strangetown. Maybe the castle-like something the household inhabits at the start of the game wasn’t a property of the Beakers at all, maybe that was where the Salamises used to live and now it belongs to Circe?

Anyway, could it had been leaving Aurora Skies that sent smol Loki down an existential crisis and settling in the not exactly welcoming environment of Strangetown, enrolling in a local school, that sealed it?

But why all the stuff with writing? This would work with any other hobby but somehow it had to be writing and it’s our task to find out why.

4: Not your average tragedy

Now in our search we already have some ideas but it wouldn’t be thorough if we didn’t take into account smol Loki’s actual personality. I mean, we went into what traits he doesn’t have but what about those he has?

Namely Lucky and Family-Oriented.

I think Lucky is a very interesting choice. There’s nothing inherent about Loki Beaker that would make you go “that’s one lucky guy!” (if you don’t count his relationship with Circe as a stroke of luck, that is) and the same goes for smol Loki.

But... it could be a clue. His metamorphosis either couldn’t be triggered by trauma because he’s lucky and it would avoid him, or it must’ve been something tremendously horrid so he’s lucky he’s still alive.

Now we know we are searching for something that happened in his late childhood, verging on the start of his teenage years. His family was going through the turmoil of moving to a desert and he has already known his future partner Circe. Meanwhile Erin-

Oh, wait. Erin.

Smol Loki was Family-Oriented which implies he would probably have a good relationship with his little sister, as he would’ve naturally inclined to protect her and help his parents take care of her. But!

Not only do they have an amicable but distant relationship as adults but Erin seems to forget that Loki even existed in her childhood.

He has the usual set of memories of a sibling growing up well but she doesn’t, she has no Loki-related memories at all, not even of his marriage, which was a quite recent event.

Could the reason for Loki’s “downfall” be somehow related to his sister? Was there a dramatic event in which she lost a part of her memory?

5: Theories!

Ok, we’re finally here! Now I try to present some theories about what might’ve happened.

1. Burdens of the golden child

In Aurora Skies, Loki used to be the little wonder every relative was gushing about. With his father as an acclaimed scientist and a very liked person in general, there was little to no adversity his son had to face. He followed his passion and having nobody to really compare himself to, nor anybody who would terrorize him, he prospered.

But then the Beakers moved. Strangetown was... different. It was way smaller than Aurora Skies, so everybody inherently knew everybody and everybody had to interact with everybody... because the small space of a desert community didn’t leave them with any choice. And it was bleak and unfriendly. No one except for the Salamises knew the Beakers, so they found themselves under scrutiny from their new neighbors.

So Loki, who used to live thinking he was unique, was now sitting everyday in a much smaller classroom with Pascal and Vidcund Curious, whom he was immediately being compared to. But he wasn’t like the Curiouses. He was a kid of a scientist but wasn’t a science kid. He didn’t have much in common with Pascal who approached him and tried to befriend him at first but he wanted to. In Strangetown, nothing seemed to be cooler than being really, really into science. Pascal’s and Loki’s communication attempts were rather poor, though, and in the end, they never made friends. Loki slowly began to disdain the oldest Curious boy and it culminated a few years later in high school when Pascal made an attempt to woo Circe. It was even worse with Vidcund. Ever since Loki’s first day at the new school, Vidcund had been eyeing him with a disgusted look and Loki became quick to reciprocate.

In Strangetown, nothing seemed to be cooler than being really, really into science. Even Circe was on it! She was the only person his age he has know in Strangetown before his family moved in and he liked her. Not “like” liked her, yuck! But he thought she was cool. Her family used to visit the Beakers in Aurora Skies and they played together. She was a friend! Or so Loki thought. She seemed to like hanging out with the Curiouses much more.

In Strangetown, nothing seemed to be cooler than being really, really into science, yes. But not in the eyes of Buzz Grunt, the son of a general who lived in Strangetown. Their family were the self-proclaimed protectors of the hood but at the same time they weren’t shy to show a strong distaste for all that made Strangetown an important desert settlement in the first place. And little Buzz, although Loki doubted he understood the nuances, was very fond of asserting his dominance over his less sporty and hyper-masculine classmates.

Suddenly jealous of the Curious brothers, under pressure from both the adults and his peers comparing him to them and bullied by Buzz, Loki’s social life fell apart. He started having problems... and he came up with solutions. He has always liked science but from back then on he hyperfixated on it to prove everybody who picked on him for being a worthless parody of a science kid wrong.

Not only his social life and self-confidence were busted, though. Moving away from Aurora Skies to Strangetown that had much higher prices for housing because of the limited space, the living standards for the Beakers lowered. It was chaotic and uncomfortable. Plus, almost everybody in Strangetown was loaded. Why, Circe and her parents lived in a small castle! Loki felt like they’re the only “poor” family around and it played into his new-found insecurities.

And then there was Erin’s accident. She suffered a severe head injury and even though she fortunately survived, she was never... the same. She had issues with her memory. Loki tried to convince himself that he’s big enough not to cry but when they were visiting Erin in the hospital and she didn’t recognize him, he cried. It was his little sister! And... it was all his fault anyway! If he was quicker and pushed her to safety, she would’ve been fine! Or even better, he wished the car would’ve hit him instead.

Loki was becoming more and more snappy, focused on his grades and projects, unavailable. The siblings never mended their relationship, Erin, even though she recovered, never got to make new memories with her brother. Not remembering them growing up together, he was like a stranger to her. A scary mean teenage boy she didn’t know and, even though she was a very friendly child, she was too intimidated to willingly spend time with him. And Loki was always busy and moreover, he felt guilty and inexplicably angry, so he postponed approaching her, until it was too late, he was in college, she was in high school and it was too awkward.

And... there was no time to write anymore.

2. Gertrude the Neat and Mean (and Lazy)

Ok, Loki doesn’t have any memories of his grandma. But hear me out! Erin does not have any of him either and yet they met. This theory doesn't require any additional write up – he simply got under the influence of his 0 Nice points granny and she cultivated him to be just like her.

My personal take: This is maybe my least favorite theory of them all, even though it is quite straightforward. It doesn't take much into consideration and demonizes Gertrude, who as far as we know, might not done anything wrong.

3. The accident

This theory takes advantage of TS3's canon sciency machinery, namely Cerebralizing Brain Enhancing Machine 2.0.

It can, among other things, change a Sim's personality. There is (quite unfortunately, in my opinion) no chance of consequential failure in the actual game, the most it can do is to (non-fatally) electrocute your Sim. But...

Imagine smol Loki sneaking into his dad's laboratory, most probably at his workplace.

He was curious. Ever since his father showed him all the equipment in there, all he could think of was the machine that made people smarter.

Maybe it could make him smarter?

I mean, Loki knew he was already quite smart. At least, he's been told he was and he had no reason not to believe it.

But he could be even smarter.

He could be like his dad. Or his mom. Or Erin. Everyone was talking about how clever young Erin seemed. Loki was proud of her but part of him just wanted that, too.

So what if... he went to dad's laboratory, just for a little while, and made himself smarter?

He made all the necessary preparations. It meant to memorize dad’s schedule, so he knew just the time when he could sneak into the laboratory. It also meant to get a good costume so he won’t be recognizable on the security footage!

And then finally, he was ready. To infiltrate the laboratory was easy enough but it only made Loki more nervous. He was on the edge but determined. He wanted to make it big in the world. He needed to seize the opportunity. And fear... fear was there to be ignored! Hands, stop trembling!

His confidence grew a bit once he got to the machine itself. He knew how to run it thanks to his dad and it made him feel competent and ready.

Little did he know that there was a huge oversight. Although Loki could operate the technology on a very basic level, his knowledge went nowhere near deep enough for him to detect that the machine has yet another set of settings and those currently expect an adult user. It wasn’t configured for a child patient.

But unaware of that, the boy in his patchy dinosaur costume climbed on top of the machine and with his eyes wide open and his heart racing he connected the Brain Enhancer to his system. Then, with his hand sweating, he pushed a button on a remote he was clutching to.

When Bjorn, alerted by Loki’s screams, rushed into the laboratory, it was way too late.

As his terrified father was calling the ambulance, the child was alive and even still awake. He was too weak to cry. He just watched Bjorn, wishing for death and looking for signs of wrath in father’s eyes.

There were none. Only fear.

Physically, Loki Beaker managed to recover just fine. With the power of advanced medicine and plastic surgery, the burns he suffered were reduced to nothing but almost invisible scars.

But inside, he was never the same. Literally. Even though the procedure backfired horribly, it still worked to some extend - but even that extend was warped. Loki succeeded in giving himself the Genius trait but several of his traits were replaced also, including the Lucky trait that probably saved his life.

6: Conclusion!

I like Loki very much. (no sh*t, who would’ve guessed) He’s a very controversial and over-the-top character who tends to be rather unpredictable in the actual gameplay. I started writing this giant thing to find an answer to his backstory that would satisfy me and hopefully also some of you.

With a heavy heart I conclude I’m not successful.

First I have to admit I originally planned to present 5 theories instead of 3 but I scrapped 2 of them.

First was about Atom time traveling and replacing Loki, creating himself again and again in a time loop (would explain the huge personality difference between smol Loki and Loki-Atom) and it was very far-fetched but fun, alas I realized it was out of character for Atom, since he seems to love his sister and his Plumbot so much he would hardly leave them behind to pull that off.

The second was about Nervous and the corrupting power of Death he has inside that would slowly drive Loki and Circe “evil” even though it’s unclear whether they first adopted him with being a lab-rat in mind. But it would not make sense since a change like that would be visible on their personality panels. That’s not that important, though. What made me not include this theory is that it feels uncomfortably victim blame-y. It’s not directly since it wouldn’t be Nervous’ fault anyway but any attempt to shift the blame from Loki and Circe in this situation feels uncomfortable.

(To be clear, I don’t think the Beakers deserve demonization. In my opinion, the best way to treat them narrative-wise is like eccentric people capable of feeling love and doing good things sometimes, yet irredeemably self-centered, morally bankrupt and deserving a lifetime in jail for child abuse they have done on Nervous. Not one-dimensional but still villains and still objectively bad people.)

And those 3 theories above? They could’ve been better.

I think I like the first the most, even though I still feel like something is missing. I just tend to like relatively grounded explanations and this one doesn’t feature the supernatural nor any deus ex machina gadget.

What about you? And do you have any other theories? Sky’s the limit! It’ll make my day to hear them!

Whatever your takes are, they’re all valid.

[shinydelirium]

Kiro’s Rumors and Secrets: Discarded Light (Season 2 Chapters 6-9) Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

So I lied when I said I was gonna translate and post Kiro’s Season 2 chapter 12, lol. But rest assured, it will be next. Just wanted to include this R&S after translating chapter 8-9 to provide some more insight into Kiro’s character from an outsider’s perspective. Although it’s also a pathetic excuse to delay the chapter 12 translation cuz I know it’s gonna hurt just as much as the first time I read it T_T

Anyways, enjoy~

This “superstar” is always beyond everyone’s expectations.

[Chapter 1]

The giant, reinforced concrete extends high into the sky, and the spotlessly wiped glass reflects the neon and dilapidated crescent moon in the distance.

Ah Liu perched on the top of the building, aiming at the silent building opposite him.

Soon, the 8 o’clock bell and a sound in his earphones rang at the same time.

“It’s time to start.”

Ah Liu tightened the rope harness, confirmed the safety of the landing point, and jumped down into the bottomless abyss between the two buildings.

Ah Liu is a bartender, a kind of superficial meaning.

Although he is indeed employed by the owner of Mondlicht bar, his work is not just about bartending and wiping glasses.

“A guest will come in the afternoon, and you will be in charge of collecting it.”

In the bar, the man behind the counter hummed a small tune and placed the wine glasses on the shelf as usual, attached to the task at hand without raising his head.

Ah Liu nodded and when he got up, he heard the man add another sentence.

“This time it’s a long-term big deal. The employer’s status is a bit special, so be more cautious.”

Ah Liu has done many assignments, but the boss reminded him as if this is first time.

This means that the employer is really not good at talking.

The owner threw a report from the counter. Ah Liu took it and looked up in surprise after a few glances.

“What is this person?”

The owner knew what he was thinking, and smiled amusingly.

“When you see him, you will know how kind and compassionate my reminder is.”

Ah Liu put the file on the table suspiciously. The knife in his hand gave off a silver light, feeling a bit funny.

The man on the file has brilliant blonde hair and his blue eyes seem to reflect a clear lake along with a pure smile.

Even Ah Liu, who doesn’t know the entertainment industry at all, knows the person in the photo.

Kiro, the most sought-after superstar of the Inverted Smile Film and Television Company.

His smile appeared on the electronic screens in the streets and alleys as well as on the packaging bags of the new potato chips in the convenience store, making it difficult to miss for anyone who passed by.

Why would such a person who stands at the top, shining and dazzling, pay a big price for a piece of information?

Ah Liu glanced at the file. The paper listed the employer’s request and the price.

The price is irresistible, and the request is worthy of this astronomical price that is suffixed with many zeros.

“The work content of other people has already been arranged, so please prepare.”

Ah Liu made a rough estimate of the time and energy required to take this big arrangement, and then thought about his fortune, and neatly put the file into his pocket.

“It seems that for a long time, we have to work for this Mr. Kiro.”

Soon the appointed time arrives.

When the door of the bar was pushed open, Ah Liu involuntarily glances over.

The person who came in wore a black hat and was dressed up very simply. He walked straight to the bar, threw an envelope to the owner, and then reached out and took off the hat, revealing his golden hair.

“As agreed before.”

He said the words briefly, as if he didn’t want to say more.

If he hadn’t already known his identity, Ah Liu felt that the star’s temperament at the moment was more suitable for this bar than him.

The owner nodded, put away the envelope, and raised his chin towards Ah Liu.

Ah Liu leaned against the bar, turned the knife in his right hand, raised his eyebrows at the guest in front of him and said hello.

In fact, generally speaking, the attitude towards guests should be a little more polite, but Ah Liu was inexplicably teasing. Perhaps because of the other person, or perhaps he was just curious about the true appearance of the superstar hidden under his handsome face.

However, Kiro’s expression was plain and straightforward.

“My request, you should know everything.”

It was completely different from the reaction he expected. Ah Liu pulled back his shoulders and put away his knife.

“Almost. Although it’s a bit tricky, it can be done.”

It was probably the first time Kiro saw someone who dared to speak so directly. He raised his eyes and reminded him not to be serious.

“Think carefully, don’t accept the task so quickly.”

“We are in this business, and we have to do it to the end after receiving the customer’s order. Although this task is not my responsibility alone, but since it’s within the scope of my work, I will definitely do it for you.”

Ah Liu was frank and extended his hand towards Kiro.

“I will follow you in the future.”

Probably out of respect, Kiro held the hand that was stretched out, but that’s all. He didn’t seem to want any contact other than trading with the person in front of him.

“How it’s done, I will tell you later.”

After he said this, he didn’t stay any longer, so he turned and left the bar.

“Why did you find this star? He’s a bit different from what I thought.”

Ah Liu turned around, tapped his index finger on the table, making a clicking sound.

The owner slowly handed him a glass of wine and smiled meaningfully.

“He’s really not any ordinary star.”

“As for what kind of person, you will know soon enough.”

[Chapter 2]

Ah Liu is a practitioner with a sense of professional ethics.

Although he found it very difficult to understand the employer’s, Kiro’s, request, he paid enough for Ah Liu to add ingredients to the menu shamelessly. While eating instant noodles, he made preparations very rigorously.

When Ah Liu completed all the preparations, Kiro also came as scheduled, with a laptop computer.

Ah Liu didn’t think Kiro could help him with his work, but half an hour later, his impression of Kiro was completely overturned.

Kiro asked for some relevant information, then turned on the computer with familiarity, tapping the keyboard quickly with his fingers.

Soon, lines of complex codes flashed across the screen like some kind of fluorescent green tide with special beauty.

Ah Liu stared at Kiro’s movements dumbfounded and couldn’t help but utter a hometown dialect.

“Yo, how are you so good?”

Ah Liu knows that when employers choose a place like theirs, it means that they need to deliver a little more or less of their own secrets and trust.

But….it’s already hard being a star right now, do you have to have to work part-time on the side too?

The security system on the screen was easily hacked, and the red warning turned into a green traffic sign. Kiro stopped typing until he locked a certain area on the outskirts of Loveland City.

“Found it.”

He stretched his waist and habitually reached near the computer as if looking for something to drink.

When he didn’t feel anything he gave a soft “huh”. His extended hand stiffened for a second, and then quickly retracted it, speaking nonchalantly.

“I have locked a few addresses that appear to have logged in to the server, but the specific locations need to confirmed.”

“How is it on your end?”

Although shocked by Kiro’s hacking skills, Ah Liu did not forget his work, and pointed to the surveillance screen in front of him.

“The monitoring software is installed, but there is no movement yet.”

“I suggest waiting for another two or three days to take a look.”

Kiro nodded, put away the computer, put on his hat and mask, and left quietly.

Ah Liu stood up, moved his shoulders and inadvertently walked towards the window.

Next to a vending machine on the corner downstairs, Kiro, wearing a black hood, was bending over to drop coins and soon a bottle of green soda rolled out.

He was a little far away, but Ah Liu still saw the drink clearly.

The green apple flavor is very high in sugar, and young girls are unwilling to buy it, so they are always not able to be sold.

Kiro finished drinking in one breath. His eyes raised slightly, showing a satisfied look. He threw the plastic bottle into the trash can briskly, then turned and left.

Ah Liu once again became curious about Kiro.

[Chapter 3]

He didn’t meet Kiro again until a long time later.

During this period, Kiro did not take the initiative to contact Ah Liu, and he has been diligently monitoring the marked area while waiting for Kiro’s news.

The days of waiting were a bit boring. It wasn’t until one time, on the convenience store TV news that Ah Liu learned that Kiro was involved in a “wounding incident” and revealed his identity as an Evolver.

Ah Liu slurped the instant noodles. On TV, Kiro looked directly at the camera and generously admitted his hidden identity.

He swallowed the instant noodles, wondering what he was doing.

Although he didn’t have much contact with Kiro, he knew very well—this person would not be so reckless and willful, and that he might have his own reasons behind this incident.

After that, a while later, Kiro’s company also underwent some trouble, and he himself claimed to retreat for creation purposes.

In the silence, Ah Liu disassembled and reassembled the pistol bought from the black market in the dark. The screen beside the pistol showed clues that he finally tracked down.

Hunter game.

It’s time to contact his employer, he thought.

In the dark, the cheerful and broad bells rang—

The so-called hunter game, even though Ah Liu never heard of it before, Kiro specifically called him to investigate since it was also related to what they had checked before. Naturally, Ah Liu concentrated all his time and energy into it.

When following Kiro’s clues, he slowly became more aware that there was a behemoth showing his minions in the darkness.

But it paid off, and finally someone bit the hook that had been cast before.

Ah Liu stuffed a pistol into his waist, holding his cell phone, and dialed Kiro.

The phone picked up after a few rings.

“What’s up?”

“I found a building where the other party had been active. I’m going to explore it tonight. If I’m lucky, I might find something.”

Kiro on the other end paused for a moment, inhaled and quickly stopped talking.

It seemed that Kiro was not the only person on the phone. Ah Liu vaguely heard another person speaking to Kiro and his voice rose naturally.

“Savin, I’m really not stealing snacks. If you don’t believe me, then come and see for yourself.”

“Hey—wait, come back later. Now I’m bitter. As soon as you interrupted, the melody of my new song is gone.

“I never told anyone that you hid my three boxes of snacks and two refrigerators of carbonated drinks. So inhumane….”

The voice gradually became quieter, and it was probably the person named “Savin” who finally left Kiro alone.

Ah Liu felt that Kiro was really weird.

Obviously, he has the warmth of light that ordinary people can’t touch, but he had to turn around and go to the darkness.

He wanted to ask why, but held back.

Employers have their own secrets to some extent. Keeping to their duties and not asking too much is the best way to stay out of this circle.

After a while, Kiro’s calm voice came from the phone again.

“Send me the address and I’ll find you.”

“I’m fine by myself. You don’t trust me when I say this?”

Ah Liu felt that Kiro didn’t trust his capability. He repeatedly emphasized that his business potential was very good. His performance ranking has been ranked first.

But Kiro still insisted on working with him and Ah Liu couldn’t help but send Kiro the location of the building.

[Chapter 4]

Under the endless night sky, Ah Liu received Kiro’s signal.

He stood up and flung himself into the opposite building with the help of the rope. After he rolled into the room and came to a stop, Ah Liu suddenly held his breath.

There were no clues left as expected. The whole room was empty. The huge glass windows were opened and the cold moonlight showed the man’s brilliant blond hair and the timed explosive device in front of him.

“Was it successful?”

“It seems that someone expected this visit and left us a gift.”

Kiro’s expression was very calm but when Ah Liu saw the detonator under his feet, he couldn’t help sucking in a cold breath.

Kiro seemed to be indifferent, tapping quickly with both hands on the computer and laughed coolly.

“Although the internal structure is complicated, it is still flawed…”

“How long will it take?”

‘Five minutes.”

Ah Liu glanced at the time displayed on the screen and the countdown just reached five minutes.

“The risk is too great.”

Ah Liu crouched down, took out a wire from the portable tool bag beside him and gently inserted it into the bomb.

“Leave it to me, it will be done in a minute.”

He specializes in surgery. Ah Liu is best at disassembling and reassembling various complicated equipment. He moves cautiously.

Kiro didn’t say anything, he stopped hacking and switched to another interface.

There is nothing in this world that can come and go without a trace. No one can be completely invisible.

The ability of top hackers is to dig out some seemingly and completely irrelevant content from the vast data stream, and continue to piece together and combine them until they restore the trajectory of something generated, assembled, grown, and disbanded.

Every day, the flood of information carries everyone’s joy, anger, and sorrow, surging through the city and no one can stay out of the matter.

The people who had been in this room carefully avoided all information channels, but it was precisely this carelessness that allowed Kiro to find their exact address.

The computer snapped shut and Kiro briefly breathed out. At this time, Ah Liu also successfully analyzed the data of the detonator and shut it down perfectly.

“It’s done.”

Ah Liu stood up and looked at Kiro.

“What are you going to do with this thing? Take it away or keep it here?

“Since they gave such a ‘big gift’, how about a ‘return gift’?”

Kiro turned and walked towards the door hidden in the dark. Ah Liu picked up the device that had turned into a pile of scraps on the ground, and walked to catch up with Kiro.

After coming out of the building, Ah Liu stopped when he passed a small alley.

“Hold up.”

He shouted to Kiro and dropped a few coins into a battered vending machine.

With two crisp ‘plops’, accompanied by mechanical electronic sounds, two cyan bottles of carbonated drinks were held by Ah Liu.

He handed Kiro a bottle but didn’t move to take it. His voice was a little cold.

“I don’t like being spied on by others.”

Ah Liu laughed a few times, trying to pat Kiro’s shoulder, but was subtly averted. He didn’t feel embarrassed, so he touched his head instead.

“Shouldn’t a celebrity be used to being watched by others?”

Probably when he was immersed in darkness, no one would exactly associate him with the dazzling star on stage.

Kiro froze for a moment, then took the carbonated drink from Ah Liu’s hand.

“By the way, when the device was dismantled, how could you be sure that I could do it? Weren’t you afraid we would all be blown up?”

The person in front of him showed a slight smile. Although it was shallow, it was indeed Kiro’s smile.

At this moment, he seemed to be covered with light and shadow, and the sun and moon were equally magnificent.

“It was just a gamble.”

“It turned out that I was right.”

He finished his drink in one breath and walked around the corner with his hands in his pockets.

Ah Liu suddenly felt that Kiro was very interesting. If he worked with him, he would probably gain a lot of things that he hadn’t encountered before.

Thrilling enough, but also exciting.

For men, true friends should be like this.

In the bottom of his heart, he listed Kiro as a friend who had already had a “friend for life and death”, so he shouted to him.

“I’ll study the internal structure of the device when I go back. I’ll tell you the results but it will take several days.”

The person in the distance did not answer and disappeared into the depths of the night.

[Chapter 5]

It took a lot of effort to crack the device, and several days had passed by the time Ah Liu got all the analytical data.

Kiro sent the other party’s real server address. Following this clue and the special materials of the installation, Ah Liu has been busy for a long time. He also managed to get a sense of the so-called “Hunter Game” in his mind.

At this moment, perhaps somewhere in this world, a silent survival game is being staged.

Although he is used to fighting and killing, the nature of the incident is completely different. He feels it is necessary to tell Kiro immediately.

But the phone call couldn’t get through.

After waiting for a while at Mondlicht, Ah Liu got up and decided to go directly to Kiro.

One minute late, one more minute for risk of exposure.

However, Kiro had a deal with him, and the less people knew, the better. Instead of alerting the security guard, Ah Liu walked to the gate of the backyard with his waist bent.

The security system of the gate is complicated and difficult to understand.

When Ah Liu was scratching his head to study how to crack it, he suddenly heard Kiro’s voice.

He was sitting cross-legged in the yard with a mobile phone, a golden retriever in front of him.

Not knowing what the person on the other end said, Kiro spoke briskly, with a smile that could not be contained:

“Wait for me to show you the mushrooms I’ve grown these days! This one on top of my head is new!”

“I wrote a song at home these last few days and I will send it to you when I make the demo.”

“When the ban is lifted in a few days, I must have a big meal!”

“Do you have anything you want to eat?”

……

He naturally exudes the aura of a “little sun”. The grand light not only comes from Kiro, but it also seems to come from the person on the other end of the phone.

It turned out to be so, Ah Liu suddenly realized.

He has always wondered why Kiro had so many contradictory points, but the bright star walks in the dark, intersecting with people of his identity.

Now he found the answer.

Because even the stars that live above the clouds have a future that they want to gaze at and protect forever.

Suddenly, there was a shattering sound—

Ah Liu looked forward immediately. He didn’t know what was said on the phone. Kiro stood up instantly, holding the phone tightly, his eyes were full of fear and anger.

Next to him was a glass that has been broken into pieces.

This was the first time Ah Liu saw this look on Kiro’s face.

He seemed to have noticed something and without hesitation, he pushed aside the branches of the tree and walked straight out.

Since seeing Kiro’s first side, Ah Liu has not been accurate in all of Kiro’s predictions. But this time, he confidently wants to try again and he has a hunch that he will not be wrong.

And that is—

Kiro is a person worthy of his trust.

[kazcosmo]

not a double date

oikawa tooru x reader

❥- mutual pining though the both of you don’t know, idiots to lovers (still idiots though), pure fluff

❥- word count; 2,028 words

!not proofread!

(g/n means ‘girl’s name’ because i have literally zero idea what i was gonna do there)

“It’s not a double date,” you tell him, fluffing the pillow behind you to make your seating much more comfortable on the couch inside your best friend’s dorm, “we’re just third and fourth wheeling.” You flash him a grin, “And while we do that we might get to fuck around and mess with him and his date a little.” You add, a mischievous glimmer in your eyes.

The brunette can’t help but huff out a laugh, leaning against his own set of pillows as he remembered the last time Iwaizumi had trusted the both of you enough to let you two go with him to meet with the girl he’s been going on dates for a while. 

Come to think of it, it wasn’t actually that Iwa had trusted you both not to act like idiots, Iwa just knew that the whining from the you and his best friend would never stop until he’s allowed you both to go with him and his girl. Ex-girl, actually.

“Yeah, because that went so well last time.” Oikawa tells you in a singsong voice that would’ve sounded like saccharine if there wasn’t sarcasm dripping off it. You smack his arm, satisfied when he winces.

“Hey! It did!” You protest, pouting at him slightly. “Without us, Iwa would have never found out how incompatible they were, it was kind of obvious, but you know he’s way too polite to pay attention to how bad it was gonna go from there.” You said, beginning to feel a little sulky and grabbing the bowl of popcorn from him and stuffing a few into your mouth. Your reaction only makes him grin wider.

“Sure it was,” he muses, trying to fight the smile forming on his lips as you glared at him you’re your (stolen) bowl of popcorn. “She thought so too, didn’t she? Poor girl just gaped at you when you started questioning her like she committed a crime or something.” Oikawa knew you were telling the truth, of course. You had helped. He was there when everything went downhill. He might’ve helped a little bit, though his little prodding weren’t nearly as obvious or as embarrassing as yours. Heat creeps onto your cheeks and you send a pillow straight to his face.

He’s laughing now, the sound light and airy, maybe attractive if you weren’t so pissed off by his teasing. “God, shut up. And hey! You helped me.” you nearly whine, shutting your eyes and burying your face behind the blankets covering you both as if it would shield you from the onslaught of memories at just how bad (and embarrassing, on your part) it had gotten last time.

You knew that subtlety wasn’t your best suit, and you definitely weren’t subtle when you started throwing questions at the Iwa’s last date. But it helped prevent your friend from landing into a relationship that would have ended badly anyway, you just saved him the trouble of experiencing that.

He smiles at the sight of you hunched over the bowl of popcorn, muttering incoherently, face half-hidden by the blankets. He tugs your arm and you greet his beaming face with a scowl. Still, you scoot closer towards him, careful not to spill any of the popcorn and letting him hold you in a way that’s far too close for two people who are definitely not dating.

You both don’t seem to realize that this proximity towards each other tiptoed over the boundaries of being best friends, after all, you’ve subconsciously went over that line way too many times before.

“Maybe this time I’ll be the one to ask questions, hm?” He asks, the teasing edge still there in the way he spoke. 

You scrunched your face in distaste but still agree anyways, “Yeah, yeah, whatever, just don’t make a fool of yourself.”

“Is this you telling me not to follow your footsteps? Trust me, pretty baby, I won’t.” He says it with mock sincerity that has you setting the bowl on the coffee table in front of you two and turning towards him to attack him with a pillow.

Soon enough, you both were whacking pillows against each other. Whatever was playing on the TV was quickly forgotten, just a faint sound fading into the background as your shrieks and laughter came. Just two best friends about to go on a not-date the day after this, having a pillow fight.

the not-date;

The four of you find yourselves in an arcade, you and Tooru buzzing with excitement, completely forgetting the existence of Iwaizumi and his date, the former watching you both with and exasperated look and the latter smiling at the childish antics that you two have been displaying ever since you guys met at the cafe. 

Pleasantries jad turned into comfortable conversations over a cup of coffee. You nearly forget the fact that you were there to check if Iwa’s new girl has no intentions of hurting him, luckily, Oikawa didn’t. And every careful question was answered with every bit of honesty you two looked for. And soon enough, the brunette was spilling childhood stories about him, you and Iwa-chan. Giving more detail to Iwaizumi, of course. 

Now you were in an arcade, per Tooru’s suggestion.

Your gaze lands at one particular prize; an alien plushy that has you locking eyes with Oikawa, communicating without words. And then you both were off, buying tokens to use, playing games to get the highest amount of tickets to see who could get the cute little alien first. Iwa sighs upon seeing the both of you take off, g/n’s hand tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie and pulling him somewhere to play a couple of games.

A while has passed since that, and here you were, glaring at the brunette, willing him to flinch a little so he’d miss his shot. He’s been going at the basketball game for a few minutes and what ticked you off was that he never missed. Your gaze travels down to where the machine was dispensing a ridiculous amount of tickets. The beginnings of a frown started forming on your lips.

You cross your arms over your chest, still glaring. He sighs, throwing his final winning shot, and this time you really frown a when more tickets starts getting dispensed from the machine. “That’s cheating.” You huff. He only chuckles in response.

“Sore loser.” He sticks his tongue out at you as he kneels to collect everything.

“I want the plushy.” You told him.

“Better luck next time then, y/n-chan.” He tuts and you resist the urge to kick him.

“Tooru,” He stills when you call him, head turning towards you slowly, hands cupping the tickets as he was knelt down. “I want the plushy.” You repeat, pouting slightly.

He looks at you, blinking once to break his stare, before he turns away, sighing again, “Alright, I’ll be kind. I can’t have you being all sad during the ride back home.” As you beam and thank him, getting on your knees as well just to give him a brief hug from behind, his heartbeat speeds up and he silently prays for you not to notice the red tinge on his ears that gave away how affected he was by you. 

But you notice, you always do. But you stayed quiet, never giving him trouble for it. After all, who were you to talk? Saying he doesn’t have an effect on you would be lying anyway.

The day ends with you clutching a green plushy to your chest and Tooru’s hand slung on your shoulders as you, him, Iwaizumi and g/n walk outside and towards Iwa’s car, already having agreed to send them off and his date before going home as well.

“I had so much fun today with all of you guys!” she grinned and you can’t help but smile back. She was different, you knew it, and you knew you didn’t have to tell Iwaizumi that. With the way he looks at her, you know that he knows she’s really special too.

“Haji talks about you guys a lot, and now that I was able to witness it, I can really tell why you guys are such great friends.”

Tooru’s lips form into a pout. You don’t miss the look of mischief in his brown orbs, and you prepare yourself to smack his head for whatever nonsense he was gonna say, “She’s so nice Iwa-chan! You should try being more like her!” He mutters an ‘ow’ under his breath as your palm comes in contact with the back of his head.

“That really hurt y/n-chan!” He whines and you roll your eyes. You hear Iwa say something along the lines of ‘Well deserved, shittykawa.’ that has a pouty Tooru arguing with him. You take the time for your hand to reach up to where you hit him, hands softly tracing soothing circles on his head, fingers tangled in brown locks. G/n notices this and comments about it,

“You guys look so cute together!”

You nearly choke as you hear those words, eyes blown wide as you stare at Iwa’s date. Tooru rubs soothing circles on your back as you try to process her words. He doesn’t miss a beat, flashing a smile to g/n, “We do, don’t we, pretty?” The nickname brings a weird fluttering to your stomach and causes heat to spread on your cheeks, both feelings you were used to whenever the unusually sweet endearment comes up although you’ve never bothered to know why.

You shake off the odd feeling that has you giddy, and you decide to play along, “I guess we do.” You grin sheepishly. When Tooru’s hand reaches for yours, you make no effort to pull away, instead intertwining your fingers with his.

“It’s been really fun guys, I wanna do this again sometime.” She says, bidding you goodbye and seating herself on the front passenger’s seat. Iwa shuts the door behind g/n and you let go of Tooru’s hand, not noticing the frown on his face as you did so. 

Iwaizumi moves towards the door leading to the driver’s seat. He had his hand ready to open the car door when he pauses, “This is your cue to stop being idiots and start dating, it’s really unbearable with all the pining you seem to have no clue you’re doing.” he sighs, opens he door and shuts it again as soon as he was inside.

Iwaizumi had driven off by the time you stop gaping and have finally regained your ability to speak, “I- What?” You ask, dazed by Iwa’s words.

Dating your best friend? The Oikawa Tooru who you grew up with? The same brunette who’s been with you through thick and thin, teasing you and whining along the way. The very guy who’s house you practically considered home. The guy who you shared your problems with and shared his too. Date that guy?

You’ve never really thought of it before, and now that you have, it had your head spinning.

Because it was also that boy who had made you smile no matter what. It was him that caused butterflies in your stomach and heat rushing to your face.

You remember all the times you’ve whined about him to Iwaizumi, complaining about how annoying Oikawa was and how you can’t do anything else but put up with him. Iwa had laughed then, for a reason you didn’t know, and he’d told you, “You know, shittykawa tells me the same thing and I always ask him the same question. Why are you so willing to put up with each other then?”

You weren’t able to answer Iwa’s question.

Maybe you can now.

Your head whips towards Oikawa who just smiles a sickeningly genuine smile that seemed so sweet, an arrow aimed straight to your heart, “Well, you heard him, pretty.” He holds your hand again this time, looking into your eyes as you stared in his brown orbs, ever as soft and sweet as the smile he’s has now. 

“So, when can I take you on a real date? I prefer one where we’re no longer third or fourth wheeling, by the way.”

[you-can-call-me-wanda]

Locked In

Pairing: Razzle Dingley x Reader

A/N: Here’s another request! I’m really sorry these are taking so long to get out... I don’t know how I managed to let so many pile up.

“You’re sure he’s in here?” you asked, walking into Sami’s bedroom, and looking around for your friend and flat mate.

“I’m sure,” Sami replied, following after you.

You were about to ask just why Razzle would be hiding in Sami’s bedroom when you heard a loud banging coming from Sami’s closet.

“Is Razzle in your-” you began to ask, but before you could finish the question, Sami was hurriedly opening the closet door and shoving you roughly inside.

You collided with another body as you were forced into the dark cramped space, turning around only to have the door slammed in your face.

You reached for the handle, but it was too late. Sami had locked you in.

“Damn,” you heard Razzle say from next to you. He was forced so close to you that you could feel his breath on your face as he spoke. “They got you too. I thought for sure you were going to be the one to save me.”

“Why are we even in here?” you asked, trying the doorhandle again. No luck.

“I have no idea,” he responded. “Maybe it’s payback for putting plastic wrap over the toilet seats.”

“I knew you two were the ones who put plastic on the toilet!” you heard a voice shout from outside the closet.

“Nasty?” Razzle said. “Let us out of here mate.” He banged on the door.

“Sorry,” Nasty responded. “We can’t do that.”

“We?” you asked, wondering who else was in on this.

Four voices echoed their various hellos. It was no other than Sami, Nasty, Andy, and Michael of course.

“Sorry guys,” Michael spoke up. “You know what you need to do.”

“Um, we really don’t,” you said. You didn’t have the slightest clue how to get out of there.

Michael groaned like the answer was obvious.

“Ugh, just kiss already!”

****

You and Razzle had lived together for about eight months now and you were both just as wild and crazy as the other. From the start, it was clear to the rest of the Hanoi boys that the two of you were meant to be. You completed each other. You were always finishing each other’s sentences, knowing exactly where the other was going with their ideas. You both stayed up most of the night playing jokes or coming up with stupid ideas. You were partners in crime. It was obvious to everyone who met you that the two of you were more than compatible, but for some unknown reason, it seemed that both you and Razzle couldn’t quite see it.

The rest of Hanoi Rocks had been trying to get you two together for weeks now. Having grown tired of watching the two of you dance around each other, they had devised a plan. Unfortunately, Razzle and you were more oblivious than it first appeared and playing matchmaker was harder than it seemed.

They had first tried a more subtle approach to set you two up. They prompted Razzle to compliment you, they used every excuse under the sun to make sure the two of you were physically close to one another, they even mentioned how cute the two of you were together. All to no avail though. Every attempt they made at setting you up failed. Sami tried to get Razzle to compliment your outfits, but Razzle never took the bait. Andy always pushed Razzle into the seat next you, but that just led to Razzle shoving him back. Michael voiced his opinion on what a cute couple the two of you would make and you had just laughed. Nasty had even tried to rig a game of spin the bottle which ultimately failed as well.

When all that hadn’t worked, they had decided to crank up the heat.

Their next plan consisted of simply talking to you and trying to get you into admitting you fancied the other.

Sami had pulled you aside one night to speak with you when the boys were over visiting at your flat.

“What’s up?” you’d asked, completely unaware where the conversation was about to lead.

“Look,” Sami said putting on his best serious face, “I know.”

You had laughed nervously, a little concerned about what Sami could be potentially hinting at. “Know what?”

“I know that you’re in love with him,” he stated plainly. His hope was that you knew you were simply hiding your feelings for Razzle and they weren’t unrecognized.

That surprised you. You couldn’t think of anyone he might be talking about.

“I’m going to need a little more information than that,” you said. “In love with who exactly?”

“You know who,” he replied.

“Sami, please stop being so cryptic and just tell me what you’re trying to say here,” you said, growing more confused by the second.

“Fine,” he relented with a huff. “You and Razzle. I know that you two are a thing.”

You let out a surprised bark of laughter. “What? Me and Razzle?”

“Yes, you and Razzle. You know just as well as I do that you’d be perfect together.”

You let out another laugh, sure at this point that Sami had to have been joking. He had to be. There was no way Razzle would ever have feelings for you. He clearly only saw you as a friend.

“I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about.”

While Sami was busy having zero success with you, Nasty was having similar words with Razzle in the kitchen.

“So, you and (Y/N), huh?” the guitarist said, leaning against the counter in a poor attempt to be casual.

Razzle blinked at him. “Huh?”

“You and (Y/N),” Nasty explained. “You finally confessed your feelings then?”

“What are you talking about?” Razzle asked, just as confused as you had been with Sami.

Nasty groaned in frustration and wiped his hand down his face. Why was this so hard?

“C’mon Raz, I know you fancy (Y/N). I thought the two of you finally got together,” he said.

“Why’d you think that?” Razzle asked. Sure, you and he were as thick as thieves, but you’d never acted romantically with each other. There was no way you could ever reciprocate any feelings he had for you.

“Well, the two of you are so close, I just assumed,” Nasty answered.

“Yeah, well, you assumed wrong,” Razzle said, trying to stop his thoughts from wandering to you in that way. “Sorry to break it to you mate.”

****

So now, you and Razzle were locked in Sami’s closet. There hadn’t been another option the Hanoi boys concluded. If they wanted to finally get you and Razzle together, it had to be done.

“Are you sure this will work?” Andy asked, skeptical of the idea.

“Just give them time,” Michael said, motioning for the other three boys to stay quiet. “They’ll figure it out. They’re so close to already,” he whispered.

Meanwhile, inside the closet, you were starting to freak out a little.

“Did he say kiss?” you asked Razzle, shuffling a little to try and face him. You just ended up pressed closer to him.

Razzle reached out to steady you, worried that you might trip over his feet. His hands landed on your shoulders and he grasped at you a little to try and get a sense of where and how you were standing because even though you both were so close to each other, the pitch dark closet made it impossible to see one another.

“I think so, yeah,” Razzle responded.

You and he stood there for a moment both processing the situation.

“Well that’s weird.”

“Maybe we should just do it.”

The two of you spoke up at the same time.

“Oh,” you said at Razzle’s suggestion, feeling a bit awkward. Razzle was your best friend and you did not want to mess that up just because your other mates had some sort of secret agenda. Of course, you wouldn’t have minded, but you knew for certain Razzle didn’t think of you that way. You were best friends. Nothing more.

“You want to?” you asked.

This apparently was not the right question to ask because Razzle fell into a long and confusing rambling spiel after you said this.

“Well, I don’t- I didn’t- I mean, we always could, but that doesn’t mean we have to. I don’t want to- well, I mean I do but not like that! I just mean that if we did it wouldn’t be the worst thing because like, it’s not that I don’t like you or find you unattractive- not that I’m attracted to you! But you’re not ugly! That’s not what I’m trying to say. You are very attractive, that’s not why I want to kiss you though. I mean I don’t want to kiss you. I just think that maybe we should if we want to get out of here if that’s what the boys are saying we have to do. So, um yeah, I’m going to shut up now.”

It was silent as you tried to process everything Razzle had just said.

“Um.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. You could practically feel the heat radiating from his face.

“Razzle?” you asked, reaching out for him, wanting to let him know everything was fine. Your hand ended up landing on his chest.

“Yeah?” he breathed out. You could feel his heartbeat speed up under your palm.

“I don’t have a problem with kissing you either, okay? You don’t need to freak out,” you said. “I just don’t want this to ruin our friendship is all.”

“Why would it ruin our friendship?” he asked softly. There was something odd about his voice. He sounded anxious. His feet shuffled closer to you.

“Well, um,” you stammered. “What if it changes the way we think about each other?”

“How so?” he asked. His voice was barely a whisper now, so quiet you had to strain to hear it, yet he sounded impossibly close.

“Razzle…” you mumbled, already moving closer to him, knowing exactly what was about to happen.

“Just let it happen,” he said before cupping your face with his hands and closing the gap between your lips.

It was a little clumsy at first, your nose bumping up against his, but soon enough you found your way and the two of you were engaged in a deep and passionate kiss. After what somehow felt like both an eternity and a millisecond, Razzle pulled away from you, panting slightly as he caught his breath.

“See,” he said, “nothing’s changed. I love you just as much as I did before.”

“You love me?” you asked, almost afraid to know the answer. What if after all this he still only saw you as his best mate?

“(Y/N), I’ve been wanting to do this since I first laid eyes on you,” he said. “Yes, I love you.”

“Aw! We knew it!”

Four excited voices cheered from outside of the closet before you could think of responding to Razzle’s heartfelt confession.

You groaned, a little embarrassed to know that Sami, Andy, Nasty, and Mike were listening in on all of that.

“Will you let us out now?” you called while Razzle chuckled good-naturedly.

“Depends,” Michael said. “Are you gonna tell Razzle you love him back?”

You nodded and smiled despite knowing that they couldn’t see you.

“Yeah, I am,” you said, leaning in to give the man in question another quick kiss.

“I love you,” you said, loud enough for the crowd outside of the closet to hear you too. “I love you.”

[angeli-marco-writes]

Elizabeth Debicki - Gorgeous

A/N & WC - Back again with Elizabeth and Taylor Swift. Reputation is my favourite album currently, with evermore as a close second. Two incredible women in one yes please. Listen to 'Gorgeous' while reading for the feel of it. 2.8k exactly.

Warnings - Legal alcohol consumption, mild cursing once.

Summary - Elizabeth is gorgeous, just look at her, the world can see it. A drunken night leads to some tipsy confessions, but does Elizabeth feel the same?

“YOU'RE SO GORGEOUS…”

“What was that?” Elizabeth swiftly cuts in.

Your eyes grow wide in an instant, looking down intensely at the black table, sticky with spilt drinks, and turn your attention away.

“Nothing…” you trail off. Frankly, you hadn’t realised you were thinking aloud, but if you said what you were thinking, then tonight's girls night out with your best friend is gonna be a whole lot harder.

“So as I was saying, this guy from Bumble, he comes and he looks nothing like his profile picture, right?” Her eyes are so animated when she speaks, her jaw agog in a remembering shock, she taps at her glass with ebony painted fingernails. “Like his picture was a solid eight outta ten, but in person, not even a four. But there was something about him, you know? That little twinkle in his eye, so I gave him more of a fair shot than I do other catfishes.” You hum noncommittally, not necessarily listening to the words, but the soft undulating animation in her beautiful accent is worth listening to any day, even if just hearing about her going on a date with someone riles you up intensely. “No personality,” she gapes, smacking her lissom hands down on the table with a slight thump, causing some of her wine to spill. “Absolutely none! It was like talking to a brick wall for half an hour. Can you believe it? And he asked what part of Australia I was from, and when I said Melbourne, you know what he said? ‘Is that in New Zealand.’”

She scoffs, and downs the last of her wine. Her magnetic field is so strong, so alluring, you can’t help but feel drawn to her even more. She really should think about the consequences of her charisma or else you might snog her and ruin everything before the nights even over.

“What a dick,” you play along.

“Ugh, I know. Refill?”

“Please. Whiskey—”

“On ice. I know, hon.”

She smirks, shooting you a wink before standing up and practically gliding across the room to the bar. Your eyes twinkle with hope, with sinful want, as you watch her, and you’re sure that with your wistful expression and flushed cheeks and the way your mouth suddenly goes dry the second she says or does anything that could be construed in the least bit flirtatious that she knows how much you like her. Your whole body tingles, your words and sense swallowed up by an intense fire the second she touches you, it’s beginning to make you furious that she’s able to make you feel this way and still acts so coy about it if she even does have the first clue how utterly besotted you are with everything she does.

Over at the bar, Liz has to hunch to lean her forearms on the countertop, kicking her feet back a little, her short dress showing off her long, shapely legs with grace. She looks so sultry, with her leather jacket shrugged so casually over her pale shoulders. But your mind and illicit thoughts plummet and die the second you peer around her and capture a look at the bartender she’s talking to. Tall and that muscular build of slim that only comes from years of sport, a pinched waist and full chest, tanned skin—perhaps of Filipina descent, dark inky hair falling in tendrils from her work ponytail, no makeup and she still looks stunning. And exactly like Shay Mitchell. And she's flirting with your Elizabeth. Not that she’s yours or anything, that would be absurd, unless…

This woman is gorgeous, and you’re already jealous of her, of the attention she’s receiving from Elizabeth; the suggestive touches, the coy laughs, the revealing tug of her dress, the tentative tilt of her head, the run of her slender hand through her choppy blonde locks. But because Liz is single, it’s actually worse, because she’s been a lot more open and experimental with her sexuality recently, not labelling it but trying more out, trying more partners out. And you don’t fault her for that for even a moment, but why she can’t experiment with you, a raging queer, is beyond your grasp. It’s almost undoubted that she’s going to be taking this incredibly scorching hot bartender home at the end of the night, and if you weren’t out with Elizabeth, you’d be making the same move. But Liz… she desperately needs to think of the consequences of her touching this romans hand in a darkened room. That should be you.

You can’t get too possessive, though, as Liz has done her fair amount of touching you all night on this signature girls pub crawl, but it’s not the same, it’s not… enough. She’s been holding your hand, hooking her arm through yours to do shots, hugging you with her lithe arm around your waist as you totter down the high street in heels too high. It’s all been too friendly, though. And now it’s getting late, your final destination of the night. You’re practically the only patrons with a conscience at this point. You’ll be turning in soon, the bar will be closing soon, it’s inevitable. Liz will have a warm bed, and you’ll be left to go home alone to your cats. She’s so gorgeous, you can't blame the bartender, but she can’t blame you wither; love made you crazy.

You’re busy brooding over the ice slowly melting at the bottom of your glass, condensation forming in droplets on the rim when Liz casts a glance over her shoulder, a bright beaming smile etched upon her face, every line drawn up to match her glee. She points a long raven-painted digit at you, and prompts you to smile back, which you do—without even half as much fervour—and ensure you incline your head towards the bartender, whose dark hazel eyes are now fixed on you, before turning back, pretending to have found something of interest on the table.

“That’s y/n,” she says in a happy, furtive whisper, “my best friend.”

With her ocean blue eyes looking in yours, your mind is all scrambled, and with the intense feeling you might sink and drown and die, you know you need to get it in order before she returns, so you push your own stool out and head to stand in the doorway, fresh air hitting you like a brick wall.

The smell of the city instantly prevents it being worthwhile.

The sun set long ago, and you can see vines crawling up the building across the road from you, even in the dim street light and shadows. Even in a tucked away corner of the city, down back streets in a quiet quarter, the incessant incense of exhaust fumes and chippy food and pigeon shit never quite leaves one alone.

Everything’s winding down, quietening, muffled by an indelible blanket of night. A soft mist fills the air, an impending storm infiltrating your senses, roiling you a little. The walk home will be made worse by the rain soon to fall, ire digging at you for more reasons than one.

Elizabeth… She can make you so happy with one simple look that it turns back to sadness the moment you see the flicker of friendliness in her eyes, never anything more, never anything deeper, not once. What can you say? She’s gorgeous, she’s everyone else's for the taking, whoever she deems rakish enough to take home for the night.

The silence of the night, of your thoughts, is hewn by a sharp siren whizzing past you, so you push your pain away, and sidle back through the doors, shutting the slow drizzle of rain out as you close the door behind you.

Once you return inside, your thoughts slightly more reordered, you see her back at the table, fiddling idly with the hem of her dress, her cheeks tinted a soft red.

“So?”

“I got her number,” she confesses, barely able to bite back a smile, even as her perfect white teeth graze her lower lip. “She gets off shift in an hour.”

You were right, then.

“That’s nice. She’s hot.”

“I know,” she replies dreamily, “and looks exactly like Shay Mitchell, can you believe it? I fancied her so much when Pretty Little Liars first came out.”

“Yeah, I did too.” you admit quietly, clasping your hands around your fresh whiskey.

“You okay? It’s getting late, we can head off now.”

“Nope, absolutely fine. In fact, I think I’ll have another. Tell me something.”

“But we haven’t talked about you all night, I wanna know how your life is going. Love life too.” she protests.

What, your life with the monotonous job and the zero romantic prospects so you spend all your free time sitting at home reading and the nights with your vibrator and Liz in your head? How the hell are you supposed to tell her that.

You simply shrug, and keep a mask of cold, hard resolve in place. “You know my life. I’m interested in yours. Go on.”

So she does. And you do order another whiskey after your first, to the point where you’re verging on the highest restraints of merely tipsy and if you have another you’re heading fast for straight out drunk, which you shan’t do. But you’re merry, and Liz’s words all sound weird, slurred a little from the alcohol, her Australian accent bending to accommodate the vowel sounds she’s making with the occasional slip of a Polish or French word in there. She gets like this when she’s drinking, and it’s one of her most endearing qualities very few are able to see.

“Your voice sounds really weird,” you chuckle, leaning back in your chair, “you’re talkin’ all funny.”

“No I’m not!”

“You are.”

“Am so not!” She’s persistent, she never did back down easy.

You half heartedly shrug, knocking your glasses into one another on the table. You tug your jacket further around you, and purse your lips readying for battle.

“You know, you really should take it as a compliment that I’ve got drunk and I’m making fun of the way you talk.”

She allows her precisely plucked brows to dance over her face in surprise, though quickly schools her features into a plain mask.

“Alright, what’s up?”

“Nothing, Liz. I’m fine.” you say adamantly, and take another swig from your drink, savouring the tang on your tongue. Your glass makes another thud when you slam it down with unplanned and unnecessary force.

“You see, your mouth says that, but your… mouth is telling me something else?”

Before you can help it, your fingers are clutching the edge of the table, your cheeks heating softly, “I haven’t kissed you yet, how can that be?”

A chill slithers down your skin as her eyes grow wide, her pale skin blanching a shade further. “I didn’t mean, um, what? I—” she breaks off with a cough. “I ju— just meant that, um, you’re… sulking.”

“Oh.”

You can’t ignore the way your stomach plummets into the core of the earth, embarrassment taking over every other rational thought within your mind and body. Your soul is already brittle, but this? Your pride has certainly taken a knock enough for you to down the rest of your whiskey in one gulp.

“I’m gonna take off,” you say at last, across the curious blanket of silence, ignoring the way her angular face—limned with hope—falls a fraction.

“Please stay.”

You don’t think you hear her correctly, if at all. For all you know, her words could just be a whisper in the blustering breeze beating outside, the storm you predicted arriving early. In the dim bar, you’re away from it all, sage, until the bartender gets off shift and snatches Liz away for yet another night.

“Beg pardon?”

“Please stay,” she repeats, louder this time, but her blue eyes don’t meet yours across the table. “Tell me what’s up.”

She’s not backing down, so you brace yourself, allowing brazenness to fill you with courage, allowing your alcohol to eddie around you, summoning the words at long last.

“Nothing…” you say at first, because really, it is nothing, but she cocks her head at you that authoritative way. God, she should be a teacher with her assertive glances. “Just that you‘re so gorgeous I can’t say anything to your face…” you snatch her cup across the table, and take a deep swallow before shrugging and casting your gaze outside to spare yourself the mortification of being rejected. “Sober at least.”

You’re met with a beat of silence, “Why?”

“Look at your face!” you shout, utterly exasperated. You’ve got a good mind to pull a compact mirror to remind her how drop-dead stunning she is. “I’m so furious at you for making me feel this way.”

“Why, baby? What way?” she croons.

Too caught up in your momentary lapse of judgement and rant, you fail to notice her edging closer to you, moving your glasses out the way, letting her forearms rest on the sticky table just so she can watch the way you lick your lips with nerves.

“Crazy, because you’re so gorgeous it actually hurts.”

“R—really?” she stammers.

You turn back to her, all thoughts evaporating with her ocean blue eyes looking in yours, driving you insane. Her pretty lips are all parted and awaiting, how much you want to kiss her… So instead, you pout, and begin to throw a strop in your tipsy state.

“Tell me more.”

“No.”

“C’mon,” she teases, a smirk toying at her mouth, giving her cheeks subtle dimples. “Don’t leave me hanging. “Tell me what you really think. How I make you feel. I wanna hear,” her voice drops to a purr, leaning over the table to husk in your ear, “every little thing.”

“Ok then,” you concede. “You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much.”

“I don’t see how,” she snorts, “but continue.”

Her attention never once fails you or turns away, enamoured with your every mere breath.

“You’re gorgeous. Your magnetic field is too strong for me to cope. Your energy draws me in. You’re all I want.”

“More.” she coaxes, a single word, but a whisper, and yet it stokes the embers of desire in the pit of your stomach, your forehead creasing to attempt to draw some concentration back from the depths of your mind where your fantasies about her saying that exact word in that exact breathy way linger.

Perhaps your adulation is excessive, but you don't miss the sparkle in her eyes at each compliment you dole. This is your final card, though, and you’re going to play it right, so you forget about the consequences of touching her hand in a darkness room, and simply intertwine your fingers, drawing your noses to meet over the table.

“You've ruined my life, by not being mine,” you profess, ensuring that your hot breath fans over her lips. You can feel her shudder. “And you know there’s nothing I hate more than what I can’t have.”

“I’m all yours if you’ll have me.”

And just like that, the world stops turning around you. Your heart lilts, your mind prattles on about all you want to say, all you want to do. But then it stops. And all of a sudden, you’re intrepid, desperate to ravish her and ruin her for all other women, eager to kiss her voraciously until you can scarcely breathe, yearning to feel her words of reassurance wrap around you, if only she agrees to your proposal over that of the hot bartender.

“Well, I’ve told you what's up, so I guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats. Alone... unless you wanna come along.”

You push away from the table and stand with a slight shrug, turning your back on her, making strides for the door and the storm bristling outside. Only, you barely make it to the door before Liz’s slender hand is wrapped around your arm, and is turning you back to her, tugging you closer, chest to chest, nose to nose.

“Fuck yes, księżniczka. After that, of course I’m coming.”

Your lips meet in a fiery kiss, a desperate battle of will, and her tongue slides over the seam of your lips. You grant her entry with an open mouth, heat skittering over your skin as she holds you tighter, closer, with a deeper urgency you don’t hesitate to match.

Her crystal eyes simmer as she withdraws, her forehead on yours. Her lips brush yours as she breathes, and she grabs your hand, heading out into the night with Liz, at long last.

“For the record, you’re gorgeous and perfect and drive me crazy too. Everything you said tonight, I echo. What can I say?”

You’re gorgeous.

[dammit-neal]

Episode 4x04 Thoughts

Okay, dead brother? It's a *little* soap opera-y. HOWEVER, this could be balanced and well handled, so long as the writers, directors, and editors keep a firm grip on the tone. They were heading that way this episode with the amount of humor they infused in the telling of the secret, but by dragging it out the whole episode it got a little melodramatic.

I will say though, the Big Secret isn't *entirely* out of nowhere. We've known since Maddie was introduced that their home situation is... Unusual, and definitely lacking in support, which becomes all the more evident when the Buckley siblings go through crisis and near-death situations and there's just CRICKETS where the parents should be. (Like, yeah Eddie's parents overstep left, right, and center but at least they *showed up.*) The point being, yeah this is dramatic, but it’s not like TA-DA! DRAMA because it has a decent foundation in existing canon. So  even though there was zero clue or mention of a dead family member beforehand, the more than I think about it, the more I think there are enough building blocks to support it if everyone's careful.

Also, it’s not new for 9-1-1 to be this dramatic either. All the traumas that other characters have experienced, the way the writers handled them, the amount of drama and melodrama allowed? We’ve been here before. This is definitely one of the more dramatic arcs, but I think it can hold. 9-1-1 has walked this path before and we will walk it again! (We might sign for custody of the characters when we're done, but we're gonna see it through.)

Admittedly, I'm still too close to the new episode, it's too fresh in my head. As soon as I refine this shit down and it joins the rest of canon in my brain, I'll reassess. 

Right now I'm gonna go rewatch because this episode had some GEMS!

Buckley siblings being there for each other, even though they're a little awkward at it, the love and good intentions and fear of screwing up and causing MORE pain was always the motivation.

The Han siblings trying their best to be there for the Buckley siblings. It was ADORABLE, and beautiful to see. Even if being there meant physically running away (I see you Albert helping your bro keep a secret! Also damn, you can sprint!!)

Chimney trying his HARDEST to keep the secret. Did he succeed? Not by most people's metric, there were A LOT of slip-ups, but none of us can claim we didn't see real effort there.

The entire firefam helping Chim keep Buck's secret. They knew it would take the *lightest* prompting for him to explode with it, but instead never asked and made sure he wouldn't tell. Extra shout out to Hen, who had it literally DANGLED in front of her and was like "Nope!" That shit is DIFFICULT to do

Eddie and Buck playing The Hardy Boys (y'know if the Hardy Boys flirted with each other while solving crimes.) That was hilarious, it's fun when Eddie gets off his Dad/Military-Man horse to screw around with Buck, and I'm pretty sure Buck's one of the few people who get that side out of him. It was funny and cute!

May being a total BADASS at the 9-1-1 center! Woman, you have EARNED your solo run and then some! Cool, calm and collected is our May and reaching out for assistance and counseling as needed. 100/100 for communication, my friend!

Bobby being there for May!! Loved that! His perspective on being a first responder sounds like it might be more helpful for her than Athena's, and that isn't shade on Athena. They just are different people, and I think her step-dad telling her it was okay to feel bad without also taking unearned blame. It helped her cope.

Shout-out to Michael. It takes a big man to step up and offer a solution. It takes a bigger man to admit--especially to his own child--that he might not have the solution. That moment of "this isn't really my field of expertise so I can't advise but I'm here and I love and support you anyway"? That is some delectable shit right there, three thumbs up.

Second shout-out to Chimney this episode! His handling of the bomber was f-ing brilliant on so many levels!! Getting Eddie out of harm's way. Talking the bomber down, distracting him, he de-escalated the situation single-handed and ALSO found an outlet to vent about Buck that wouldn't cause him harm. Genius! And HYSTERICAL.

Eddie's growth! He's past the hitting out his feelings phase, and he's reaching out to make sure Buck doesn't follow that path. Also, trying to make room for Buck to talk about what's bothering him? Standing back and giving him space when he didn't want to talk? He was there for him so good.

Shout-out to Buck for speaking his mind! Notice this: he swallowed so much shit against himself, but the thing that made him break the first time? Is when they were hurting his sister. His protective instincts are very strong, we see it in his job as well. But the second time he spoke out?? That was for himself. PEOPLE we got Buck sticking up for himself to the people he is DESPERATE for acceptance from and that is one of the most difficult things to do. Dare I call this the emerging of Buck 3.0? And I suspect we'll see more in the upcoming episode.

In conclusion, I think the 118 should be renamed Bobby Nash's Home for Kids with Shit Parents. We got Eddie, Chim, Buck. At this point can we just assume that Hen's parents are shit as well? And then there's Bobby, like he knows he's got step-kids, but does he realize just how many? He must, he cooks dinner for all of them every day... Right?

Next episode I'm looking forward to:

Good tone and pacing that steers clear of melodrama while still delivering tasty dramatic beautiful emotional moments.

The firefam proving to Buck that they love him, accept him, and have his back

Buck realizing he doesn't need his parents in order to feel whole. A continuing growth arc where he is able to acknowledge his feelings and ask for what he needs.

A good balance between the emergencies and the personal moments. After episode 1, the focus has HEAVILY been on the personal, leaving the emergencies to fit themselves in where they can. Obviously not expecting next episode to rebalance that scale, it's a Begins episode, but after that? Back to business.

This is a Buddie wish: continue to see these fun moments between them that we're seeing this whole season. All the banter. I REALLY hope Eddie and Chris get a chance to show up for Buck the way he's showed up for them so many times without undermining Buck's personal journey or ability to stand on his own two feet.

I REALLY hope Bobby gets a moment to be the dad Buck needs. That would be beautiful and so necessary for Buck. His heart is so big, he needs to know who he can trust with it.

I'm sorry 9-1-1 writers. Your job is thankless and my demands are MANY. But I still have high hopes for next week!

Whoever made it to the end of this, thank you. It was supposed to be like a paragraph, I swear, but... Well, here we are. I'll probably write more throughout the week as I process, too. I'd love to know your thoughts as well, hmu!

[ichigo-daifuku]

See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil [2]

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Pairing: Diavolo/F!Reader Genre: Soulmate AU, Fake Relationship (?), Misunderstandings, Fluff, Angst, Suggestive Themes

Synopsis: During a confrontation between Diavolo and a certain witch who harbors unrequited feelings for him, he declares his intention to ask you to stand beside him in reigning over the Devildom someday. You conclude only one logical explanation for the insanity he uttered: this is his way of discouraging the witch from being so persistent. Although clueless, you play along and become ‘lovers’ with him.

Inevitably, your existing attraction for Diavolo grows, but the distinction between truth and lies, the crisscrossed lines of the right and the wrong, and the question of what’s real and what isn’t, begin to plague your mind and stir up trouble for your relationship with him with each passing day.

Entangled within the woven threads of soulmates and a royal prophecy, this is the story of the Demon Prince and his future Queen: you.

1 | 2 | 3 Chapter 2: Hear No Evil Word Count: 6.5k

To say your week was eventful would be an understatement.

It was no secret that wherever Diavolo went, eyes followed. Even if demons walked on eggshells with him, word about him spread from one mouth to another rapidly, both news and rumors alike. Now, your circumstances mimicked his own. When the two of you would be spotted together, all hell ensued. Once, Diavolo walked you to your classroom, and by the end of the day, everyone—including Belphegor, who had skipped classes—had knowledge of what happened. As the days passed, you slowly fell into the normalcy of such occurrences. The reason for it was when you were in Diavolo’s company, the last thing you cared about was the eyes trained on you, as strange as it sounded. On a positive note, it contributed to the fabrication of your relationship and made it more believable. No one had questioned either of you about it yet.

The most awaited day of the week arrived, Saturday.

You awoke in a good mood, undeniably filled with anticipation of the events today would bring. As you watered the Mirage Flower on your windowsill, the item resting beside it caught your eye: a note. You finished your task and took the crisp white envelope in your hands, flipping it over to see the crimson wax seal on its flap. While you were expecting the RAD logo to be stamped on it, the sigil was one you were positive you’d never seen before but felt strangely acquainted with.

With utmost care, you unsealed the envelope, and in the card, the sender had written:

Bewitched, I was, on the fateful day you and I met.

The familiar penmanship was all you needed to confirm it was, indeed, from none other than Diavolo.

You’d be lying if you claimed your heart didn’t flutter when you finished reading that single sentence, but that was a normal response, wasn’t it? Such a romantic sentiment was written in a note for you, and it was from an admirable man—of course, you’d be moved by it. As you breathed in and out to curb the initial surprise you felt due to the content of the envelope, you tapped behind the paper with your index finger, thinking.

Diavolo loved games, and he was entertained the most by being their mastermind.

This is a riddle, you thought. What a strange way to ask someone out.

You chuckled, both amused by his antics and by the way the gears in your head turned to figure out the meaning behind his words. Months ago, the demon brothers had insisted on coming with you to the Demon Lord’s Castle when you were invited there for tea. Perhaps, it was because, back then, Diavolo had requested for your company in the same manner that you found the answer in no time.

Quietness ruled over the RAD campus on weekends, a stark contrast to the busy picture it painted on weekdays. The area remained open, though, permitting industrious students to hole up inside the library and club members to work on their extracurricular activities. 

Leisurely, you strolled along the garden and entered the building without bumping into anyone you knew. Once inside, you recognized a few demons and nodded to them as a greeting while navigating your way to the answer to the riddle: The Student Council Room.

The door let out a small creak as you pushed it open. Since Diavolo was nowhere to be found, you stepped inside and opted to look around for any signs of another envelope. Despite having a lot of papers and writing implements, Lucifer’s area was the tidiest. The square-shaped tube of the tinted lip balm Asmodeus had been frantically searching for yesterday was on his table. Meanwhile, a stack of overdue assignments Belphegor ‘forgot’ to bring home was on his desk.

You roamed around the room until you reached the space you had landed on when you were transported into this world. Standing still, you raised your head, your gaze meeting the podium Diavolo had occupied, the place where he greeted you. It was the very first time your eyes landed on him. In absolute clarity, you could picture the scene of your meeting and how he looked like back then. He was tall and proud, his eyebrows scrunched together in worry at your discomfort at being summoned so suddenly. Most of all, he was regal, as if the place he had been standing on was not a student council podium but a throne.

“This takes me back,” you commented, feeling nostalgic after realizing how far you’d come. You’d learned many things from your stay and met friends more precious to you than anyone else. In the past, if someone told you what kind of relationship you’d be sharing with the Demon Prince months later, you would’ve laughed and brushed them off. “Now, where could that envelope be?”

You stepped aside and moved forward. The stairs led you to where Diavolo had been on that ‘fateful’ day. Footsteps tentative but thrilled, you approached his seat, halting and pulling the chair out. You stood in the place where Diavolo belonged; high up, the sight offering a clear view of what was happening below. Your gaze zeroed in on the center of the room, the spot you stood at a while ago, where he first landed his eyes on you. It hit you that you were looking at that place from his perspective. What did he think of you back then?

“‘ Bewitched, I was, on the fateful day you and I met, ’” you uttered and caught yourself having thoughts you shouldn’t have. Sighing, you shook your head, picked up the envelope on Diavolo’s desk, and muttered, “Why is he so good at this?”

You unsealed the envelope and read the next riddle:

The greed and lust I harbor for you know no bounds.

How in the Devildom were you supposed to interpret that message? If you were surprised by the previous riddle, then you were flabbergasted now. You had to remind yourself multiple times: it was a riddle; nothing more, nothing less. Based on the emphasis he had given the sins in the message, the clue laid in the two members of the Seven Rulers of Hell: Mammon and Asmodeus. Intrigued by the events he had in store for you, you contemplated the riddle’s meaning further and descended on the stairs with the intent of going home. Before you could forget, you grabbed the missing lip balm Asmodeus left on his desk and decided to return it to him and ask him for any clues Diavolo might have given him.

Once you arrived back at the House of Lamentation, you went straight in the direction of Asmodeus’s room, but surprisingly, you met him along the hallway.

“Asmo! I found the tinted lip balm you’re looking for in the Student Council Room,” you stated, handing him the item.

He accepted it gratefully, his eyes wide. “Oh, my… I must have left it there a few days ago. Thanks for bringing it!”

“Sure thing,” you replied. “Where are you off to, by the way?”

“Glad you asked! The Into The Devildom collection I designed is going to be launched soon, so I’m meeting some partners for it.”

“Wow, congratulations! I’m looking forward to seeing your designs!”

“Oh, thank you, darling! As crazy as this sounds, the executives suggested Mammon as one of our models, so he’s going to attend the meeting, too.”

“Wait! What did you just say? Mammon?”

“I know, right?” His facial expression morphed into one full of disbelief and exasperation. “Well, I mean, even if he’s scummy off-cam, he does justice to clothing on-cam, so I have high hopes for this campaign... but don’t tell him I said that!”

“Yes, yes, of course…”

The request Asmodeus made barely registered in your mind as you figured out the place connected to both the Avatar of Greed and the Avatar of Lust: Majolish.

The Majolish VIP Room lived up to its name; it was nothing short of glamorous.

After going to an AkuDonald’s drive-through, Mammon, Asmodeus, and you—or as you liked to refer to yourselves: TEAM PARTYYYYY—headed straight to Majolish while chatting about random topics and gossip. Once inside the rose-colored establishment, Mammon and Asmodeus parted ways with you to attend their meeting. You were about to search for clues from the racks and shelves when a staff member approached and escorted you to a sitting room to serve you tea and snacks.

Minutes after partaking of the refreshments, the head stylist welcomed you to the adjoining VIP Room, where, at the moment, you were sitting inside and waiting. You stared at your reflection in the grand vanity mirror. All its lights were turned on, and it was an image you’d only seen in Hollywood movies back in your world. After you were all glammed up with flawless makeup, a staff member under Asmodeus brought an ensemble from his unreleased Into The Devildom collection. You tried to refuse, but after a phone call from the designer himself, insisting he wanted the best clothing for you on your ‘momentous’ date, you relented and expressed your gratitude for his thoughtful gesture.

“My lady,” the head stylist called. Although everyone in this place had been referring to you using this title since earlier, you were still unused to it. The head stylist offered you the item in their hands. “Lord Diavolo asked us to give you this envelope after you’d chosen your outfit.”

You smiled and received it. “I see. Thank you so much.”

“I wish you both a wonderful time,” the head stylist replied and left to give you privacy.

You opened the envelope, wondering what the riddle would say. Since he led you here to prepare you for your date, this would be the last note, wouldn’t it?

Meet me at the place where we first shared dinner, my princess.

I will be waiting.

— Diavolo

‘My princess.’

He called you his princess.

Your heart did a complete somersault at that. 

Unexpectedly, the riddle—if you could even call it one—was more straightforward than the previous two you’d received. You placed the card back inside the envelope, putting it together with the other two inside your clutch. Clearing your throat and fixing your posture, you stood and adjusted your clothing. You were nervous again, but you were ready.

A sleek black car waited for you outside, ready to take you to your destination: Ristorante Six.

“You look even more beautiful tonight,” Diavolo remarked.

He smiled at you from across the table, his appearance dashing though he was only in a plain dress shirt and slacks. He took the champagne flute in his long fingers, your eyes refusing to miss the way his arm flexed at the movement and how his throat bobbed as he took a sip of the beverage.

“I have you to thank for that,” you gulped and managed to reply. “The staff at Majolish were all so nice and accommodating.”

“That’s good to hear.” He placed his glass on the side and leaned back to his seat, his eyes trained on you. “Did you enjoy the riddles?”

You let out a laugh. “I can’t say I didn’t.”

“I’m glad,” he said, the smile on his lips shifting into a frown. “To tell you the truth, I initially planned for us to enjoy a day together in the human world… but when I asked Lucifer for advice, he told me it wouldn’t be pleasant if we were to run into a certain witch…”

Ah, you thought, wondering what that would’ve entailed. However, wouldn’t it be better for Maddi to see you and Diavolo together for her to be deterred? When you contemplated the matter further, you supposed that would be dangerous—for you, at least. Honestly, you would’ve been fine with a simple dinner, but knowing Diavolo, the fact that Ristorante Six was empty save for the two of you was his way of apologizing and making up for the breakfast Maddi ruined. “You don’t need to worry about that. I really enjoyed today. It’s my first time going on a date in the Devildom.”

“That makes me happy,” he stated, visibly relieved and pleased. “We can still go, next time.”

Next time. The implication he wanted to go out with you again made your chest thrum with anticipation. “Yes, you’re right. Next time.”

He reached across the table and took your hand in his, his thumb brushing your knuckles. “Thank you for agreeing to go out with me.”

The scent of roses swirled around the room. The romantic atmosphere enveloping the two of you was intoxicating—as if it was an invitation for you to give in to the thoughts and emotions looming over your mind and heart. Was it those riddles that got to you? Or was it Diavolo himself, whom you’d always admired from afar?

You smiled at him and let your fingers hold on to his own tighter, just for a moment.

As you expected, Diavolo insisted on taking you home. You didn’t mind—no scratch that—it delighted you he’d offer, as your dinner with him felt strangely short. You’d spent a considerable amount of time during the day figuring out the riddles, a period longer than your two hours of dinner. While the five-course meal left you satisfied, your conversation with him was so enjoyable that it felt brief. It wouldn’t take that long to travel from Ristorante Six to the House of Lamentation, so you figured a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

Soon, you arrived at your home. Diavolo entered the gates of the House of Lamentation with you in comfortable silence. Once the two of you stepped on the porch, you offered, “Do you want to go in and say hi to everyone?”

“Hm?” Diavolo was lost in thought as he gave you an indecisive stare.

“Diavolo?”

As you stared back at him, it dawned on you. You’d witnessed this scene a thousand times in human world movies before, and with his interest in the pop culture of your realm, he had, too. You used to think it was nothing but a ridiculous cliché, but now, you weren’t so sure about that anymore.

“Can I kiss you good night?” Diavolo asked in a low, husky voice.

You had no way of concealing the surprise etched on your face. Even if you expected the question, the thought of kissing him was surreal. You never dared to dream of it, yet here he was, truly asking you if such a thing would be fine with you. The demon brothers would be watching somewhere from one of the tall windows, you had no doubt about it, burning with curiosity about the date between the human they shared a pact with and the Prince they swore their loyalty to. You had agreed to be a part of Diavolo’s charade, and your first date went well. This was natural.

You nodded. “Okay.”

Closing your eyes, you leaned into his warmth as his palm made its way to your cheek and curved at your jaw. The gentle pressure of his lips on your own lasted for a mere second, and the loss of contact prompted your eyes to open, the desire for more reflected in your eyes… and his.

In front of you, Diavolo revealed the rare sight of his vulnerability. You’d never known it before, but there was a limit to his seemingly perpetual composure. As you gazed at the undeniable flush on his cheeks and the hesitation painted all over his countenance, the longing to see more of this version of him led adrenaline to spike in your veins.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and whispered, “Do you need me to do more?”

Diavolo’s eyes widened at your astute inquiry, but he made no move to deny it. “Will you?”

The question sounded like a challenge, but underneath that layer, it was a plea. He wanted this, and you did, too—even if it was only for show.

“I can,” you confirmed, “if you’d like me to.”

At your agreement, his hesitation dissipated. He leaned in and brushed your lower lip with his thumb. “If you continue to tempt me like that, you need to prepare yourself for the consequences.”

“I’ve been prepared for them. Ever since I said ‘yes’ to you.”

You closed your eyes as Diavolo bent his head and pressed a gentle kiss on your lips. It was a real one, this time, and you returned it enthusiastically, throwing caution to the wind. His palm moved past your cheek, down to your shoulder, pausing on the small of your back until it settled around your waist, fitting your bodies together. His warm tongue slid past the seam of your lips to meet yours, deepening the kiss and awakening a wave of desire inside of you.

Before it could get out of hand, you broke the contact of your lips on his. You caught your breath while Diavolo leaned his forehead against yours. Your lips stayed a hair’s breadth away from each other’s, sharing warm puffs of breath and brushing as you whispered, “Good night, Diavolo.”

“Good night, my princess.”

The first kiss you shared with Diavolo had been the beginning of many.

A certain thrill hung in the atmosphere whenever the two of you were in the vicinity of each other. More often than not, your encounters would lead to the two of you leaving hand in hand to move to a more private setting as everyone watched. Although there was no reason for you to continue your charade behind closed doors, the moment your eyes met his, kisses followed. When your relationship with him took a physical turn through your heated kisses, your attraction to him inevitably grew stronger.

Being the heir to the Devildon’s throne, Diavolo was a busy demon. Despite this, he would still take you on dates. You’d gone to Ristorante Six a few more times. There was an instance when he wanted to go to AkuDonald’s, and you were more than happy to introduce him to your favorites. Your date at Hell’s Kitchen went well, too. How he managed to find the time for these things, you had no idea. The following dates you went with him were accompanied with gifts, and soon, across your bedroom’s shelves and beside your pillows, various plush toys from Cranesanity rested—all acquired personally by Diavolo. It was both amusing and endearing, his interest in that game.

On a Sunday afternoon, weeks after you began your dangerous affair with him, Diavolo invited you to come over for tea in the Demon Lord’s Castle. Much like how it began after your second date, he had asked you in a way you’d consider normal, this time, through a text message. Either way, if he was the one who invited you, you’d be delighted to accept.

With the inky view of the Devildom outside the sitting room window, you sat across Diavolo, a round ornate table full of pastries between the two of you. The freshly brewed Ceylon tea by none other than Barbatos, a culinary legend, was warm and fragrant in your teacups. One of the best things in the Demon Lord’s Castle was the food. Barbatos’s cooking was the best, truly fit for royalty, and worth every praise you’d heard about it. As Beelzebub would mention now and then, from being served such food alone, Diavolo was lucky to have Barbatos as his butler.

While eating, Diavolo brought up how the RAD Newspaper Club contacted him and asked for his approval for your photo in the academy’s courtyard to be published. Before giving them a response, he wanted to know if you had any objections or conditions for Mephistopheles to take into account.

“I have no problem with it, honestly. It would be better if the denizens knew, wouldn’t it?” you responded after giving it some thought, meaning every word you said.

Diavolo nodded, considering your answer.

“What about you? What do you think?” you asked.

“I’d like nothing more than to let everyone know about us. Not that they don’t know already, but officially, I mean.” Diavolo chuckled and handed you a printed copy of the photograph for your approval. “We look like quite the pair, don’t we?”

As you examined the picture, a smile made its way to your lips, a tiny, if not bittersweet, one. You, Diavolo, and the Mirage Flower were at the center of the frame. On the surface, the two of you looked like a couple in love; convincing, real. You knew better, though, and that reality left a pang in your chest. “We sure do.”

A celebratory ball was going to be held at the Demon Lord’s Castle in honor of Diavolo’s prophesied ‘Queen.’ In other words, the ball was going to be held to honor you. The situation was similar to what happened some time ago when the demon brothers, through their gratitude, made you the guest of honor during Diavolo’s birthday. It lessened the nervousness you felt and replaced it with anticipation.

Still, it would be nice to thank Diavolo for everything he had done for you. You looked back on the facts you’d learned about him in the past few months and listed the arts, cute animals and items, and sweets as the things he was partial to. His tastes were eclectic. When you first met him, you wouldn’t have guessed he considered flowers and small animals to be comforting.

In the end, you decided to go for the ‘sweets’ option. Macarons and cupcakes would be nice, wouldn’t they? Both of them would be cute and sweet. You decided to experiment with a few trial batches before making a final one to give Diavolo as a gift on the day of the ball. 

Luke, who you were convinced was truly your guardian angel, was more than happy to assist you when you asked him for help.

Once your classes were dismissed, you returned to the House of Lamentation with Luke. After he demonstrated how to make macarons and cupcakes, you sat side by side and chatted as you waited for the pastries to bake.

“So,” Luke began out of the blue, “you’re really dating Lord Diavolo, huh? I couldn’t believe it when I first heard about it.”

While you had experienced telling white lies to children back in your world, at the moment, you found it difficult to believe how you were lying to an angel. “Haha, yeah. It’s been a while.” 

“I’m still not over the fact that a good human like you ended up being destined for a demon all along! Even if that demon is Lord Diavolo…” Luke frowned. He had always been like this, worrying about you, a human who was constantly surrounded by demons. To him, now that you were going to be Diavolo’s Queen, your entanglement with demons had become inexorable.

You couldn’t help but reach out to him and ruffle his hair. He was truly an angel, a good kid.

“H-Hey,” he complained but did nothing to move your hand away, “stop that!”

“Thanks for worrying about me, Luke.” You smiled at him reassuringly and patted his shoulder. “Everything will be fine. As you said, Diavolo and I… well, we are destined, after all.”

The sound of the timer prompted your heads to turn to its source. Luke’s face lit up as he excitedly grabbed his mittens and skipped to the corner of the room. The heavenly scent of pastries wafted all over the kitchen as he drew the oven’s door open.

You, however, stayed in place and merely watched, once again having difficulty believing how you lied to an angel.

Diavolo’s trusted footmen fetched you from the House of Lamentation to the Demon Lord’s Castle. 

Over the last few months, you’d developed a sense of familiarity not only with Diavolo’s staff but also with the ins and outs of his grand home. You’d stayed over numerous times that the guest room you frequented in was now assigned as exclusively yours, with your personal effects in it, serving as your room. Aside from your possessions, brand new designer clothing purchased by Diavolo—which were, unexpectedly, all in your size—as well as makeup, accessories, toiletries, and everything you could need, occupied the walk-in closet.

“Is this really necessary?” you had asked him when you found out about his shopping spree, worry trumping the other mixed emotions you felt at the sight of more gifts.

“I want to give all the best things to you.”

“If you say things like that, I…”

“Don’t you think my future Queen deserves the best of the best?”

“...Right, of course.”

Diavolo’s Queen. That person was not you. You sighed and reminded yourself he was the Demon Prince. He had an eternity’s worth of money to spare, purchasing these items was nothing to him. He prepared this for the Queen in the prophecy, a partner deserving of such luxury. When you eventually had to use some of the items for attending events with Diavolo, you told yourself you were just borrowing them. You handled everything with care and returned them to their original place after use—as if your hands never touched them at all.

You arrived at the Demon Lord’s Castle and found yourself sitting on the plush sofa inside Diavolo’s study. After recently having a vision of Diavolo playing hooky, Barbatos requested for you to keep an eye on him, insisting his master would listen to you. Barbatos asked you to make sure Diavolo would finish his tasks before the two of them had to leave for a meeting with important figures of the nobility in the Devildom. You obliged, having nothing else to do on a Friday night, preferring Diavolo’s quiet company over the club music and neon lights in town, which would no doubt be full of demons unwinding tonight. While you scrolled through Devilgram, liked your friends’ photos, and laughed at funny videos, Diavolo went through his stack of papers diligently. As the pile grew smaller, he hummed to the tune of a song from Mononoke Land, which piqued your attention.

“You seem to be in a good mood,” you commented. 

“I am.” He nodded happily. “You’re here, after all.”

You smiled at him. “I’m glad.”

Diavolo signed his name at the bottom of the page he was working on and placed his seal on it. After the wax dried, he closed the folder and placed it to the side, leaning back against his seat with an exhausted sigh.

You glanced at him and asked, “You’re finished?”

“It seems so,” he replied, checking the grandfather’s clock in the corner of the room, “and with a few minutes to spare, too.”

“Barbatos will be pleased. Congratulations!”

He chuckled and shifted his gaze back to you, a mischievous smirk on his lips. “Don’t you think I deserve a reward?”

“Maybe,” you played along coyly. “What kind of reward do you want?”

“Something only you can give me.”

“Such a thing exists?”

“Yes.” He gestured to you with his fingers, beckoning you over. “Come here.”

You locked your D.D.D. and left it on the sofa, standing up and stepping in front of his desk. “What can I do for you, Diavolo?”

“You can come closer.”

You circled the desk until you were beside him. “Here?”

“Not quite.” He took your wrist and encircled your waist with his arm, pulling you into his lap. “Right here.”

You shifted and found a more comfortable position with your legs hanging from the side of his knees. “That’s it?”

“No.” Diavolo brushed your hair aside and caressed your cheek. “Kiss me.”

Gladly, you thought but ultimately chose actions over words as a response.

Your lips had long been acquainted with his, but every single time remained as a sensual experience that left you wanting for more. Sometimes he’d be slow and gentle, taking his time to savor your taste, while other times had been quick pecks on your lips when either of you would be busy and in a rush to say goodbye.

But now, the kiss the two of you were sharing could only be described as passionate. Your palms rested on his shoulders, and slowly, you wrapped your arms around him, closing in your bodies toward each other. His lips moved against yours so greedily—lustfully—that you felt sinful as you reciprocated, drowning in his warmth.

When you pulled away to catch your breath, his arm tightened around your waist, and his mouth swept over your cheek, leaving a trail of kisses in its wake until his lips found your neck. He kissed you softly, his tongue darting out to dampen your skin before nipping and sucking at it.

“Diavolo,” you closed your eyes and whispered, not wanting to make noise but unable to hold it in.

“Let out your voice,” he said, moving his lips downward after leaving a lovebite on your skin. “I want to hear you.”

His long fingers unfastened the button of your blouse, giving him more access to your body. As he moved to the next button, however, a loud knock on the door caused the two of you to freeze.

“My Lord,” Barbatos called. “It is time for us to leave.”

Without waiting for an answer, the sound of footsteps echoed on the empty hallway and faded as Barbatos gave the two of you privacy.

He knows, doesn’t he? That Barbatos, you thought, internally panicking. You moved away from Diavolo and fixed your hair and clothes. Even though your mind was all muddled now, you managed to casually tell him, “I guess it’s time for you to go.”

Deep inside, you were anything but calm. Your head replayed the events that occurred minutes ago. That was a close call. Too close. What in the Devildom were you thinking? Seriously… 

It always irked you how times when, after sharing a kiss, Diavolo appeared to be unbothered existed. You preferred the vulnerable expression he had shown you during the first time you agreed to kiss him. Still, you were curious, and you turned your head to peek at the face he made tonight, but nothing could have prepared you when your eyes met his.

His gaze on you was full of desire, an emotion you’d only seen on him in flickers before; a speculation you doubted but was now a blatant truth. He stepped closer to you and pulled you in a tight embrace, letting you feel the extent of his arousal as he stroked your hair and inhaled your fragrance.

“We’ll finish this next time,” he whispered.

And then, he sealed his promise with a kiss.

After seeing Diavolo and Barbatos off, you opted to go home instead of staying longer in the Demon Lord’s Castle. You needed time to think, and being in a place full of memories with Diavolo didn’t help in clearing your mind.

You’d long accepted your attraction to him. If you were to imagine what it would be like to be in a relationship with a soulmate, every detail would be the same as the romantic affair you shared with Diavolo, except it would be real. Tonight, you had to face the music and admit it to yourself: you wished it was.

The situation was getting out of your hands, and at a loss of what to do, you grabbed your D.D.D. from your pocket and dialed a reliable friend’s number, knowing this decision would change your life.

As insisted by the angels, Solomon went to town to order takeout for dinner instead of experimenting in the kitchen. That was when he received your call. The two of you agreed to meet up at Hell’s Kitchen, as you spontaneously decided to purchase food for the demon brothers as well. It had been a while since all eight of you had gone for a meal there. Solomon wasn’t in a rush and had time to spare, so he was more than happy to sit down with you for a chat as you waited for your orders to be processed.

“Shall we have a round of Demonus tonight?” he asked, leading you to a nice, secluded table in the corner of the room.

“Sounds good,” you replied with a nod and took the seat in front of him.

After some idle chat, a waiter brought two horns of Demonus for you and Solomon.

With his elbows on top of the table, Solomon rested his chin over his folded hands. He broached the subject with a smile, “So, what did you want to talk about? Spells? Pacts? Demons? Recipes?”

You took your time in replying, not having uttered this word in this world before. “I’d like to talk about… soulmates.”

“Soulmates? Well, that’s something I didn’t expect.”

“Yes, I… I wanted to know if there are demons who have soulmarks.”

“How come? By any chance, do you have a soulmark?”

It was difficult enough for you to acknowledge you had one, but if you wanted to acquire information from Solomon, your best bet at the moment, you had to come clean about your situation. “Yes, I do.”

“Does Lord Diavolo know?”

“No, this is a secret I’ve never revealed to anyone before.”

Solomon contemplated the situation you had given him. “That is certainly complicated.”

You sighed and took a sip of your Demonus. “I know.”

“I hate to be the one to break it to you. I’ve been around for a long time, but I’ve never met a demon with a soulmark.” 

“I see. That’s…” Sad? Unfortunate? Heartbreaking? What were you supposed to say when the disappointment clouding your mind felt so heavy?

“I’m sorry,” Solomon said sincerely.

“It’s… It’s nothing. I’m alright.”

He took a sip of his drink and allowed you to process the information he had given you. As you did, you couldn’t help but dwell on another matter that continued to plague your mind. After a few minutes, you decided this would be the best moment to ask.

“Solomon…”

“Yes, what is it?”

“Have you heard about Diavolo’s prophecy?”

A sly smile made its way to his lips. “Let’s just say having pacts with seventy-two demons has its perks.”

That caught your attention. He knew something about it. “Will you tell me?”

“Why not ask him yourself?” Solomon suggested. “It’s something that concerns you as well, doesn’t it?”

There had always been a sense of camaraderie between the two of you as the only humans in the exchange program. Revealing the fact you had a soulmark was one thing, but telling him about the secret you shared with Diavolo was another. Still, if you were to receive the answer your gut feeling told you that you would receive, there would be no need to worry about that any longer. 

“I’m going to tell you another secret.”

Solomon nodded encouragingly. “And it will remain as one.”

His quip made you laugh, but the amusement faded in the blink of an eye, the words you were about to utter weighing you down.

“The truth is, I’m just a stand-in for whoever is the one in the prophecy,” you confessed. “I’m sure you’ve heard of her, but Maddi… well, long story short, Diavolo had to drive her away, but she steered the conversation to the prophecy, and I happened to be there, so…”

Solomon peered at your face, his expression grave. “You’re sure about this?”

“Yes, I was there. That’s what happened.”

“And the demon brothers don’t know, so you can’t ask them yourself.”

“That’s right.”

He leaned back and crossed his arms. “Okay, I’ll tell you.”

Relief washed over you at his agreement. If Solomon ended up refusing, you didn’t know who else you could approach.

Solomon cleared his throat and divulged, “It was long ago, so the version of the story varied, but from what I’d gathered from the different sources I had, one thing was constant: a witch had a vision of the future when the Demon Prince was born. It was said that Diavolo’s Queen would be the bridge to his goals, and only when the Queen would rule by his side would he be able to see them into fulfillment.”

This was the revelation you needed, the answer you sought after. If the prophecy was made when Diavolo was born, it meant that he had been waiting for his Queen for millennia.

It must be lonely, you thought, but loneliness was something you never saw on him. 

While you never cared about finding nor ending up with your soulmate, it was a different matter with Diavolo. The Devildom would always be his number one priority. To figure out the dream the prophecy was referring to was easy: for the three worlds to live peacefully in coexistence. He’d expressed that many times before. The establishment of the exchange program was a stepping stone to actualize his vision, but he was still waiting for his Queen, a position vyed by many but was in your wrongful hands.

It would be fine to continue pretending to be his Queen if you weren’t in love with him… but you were. How could you continue kissing him and wishing every caress of his lips was sincere? It was as if you were a traveler with a parched throat who spotted an oasis from afar, only to discover it was a mirage once you reached it. Even now, a flicker of envy sparked within you for the nameless, faceless Queen of the Devildom he was bound to have by his side. At once, you discarded the thought and decided it wasn’t a good feeling to have, to covet him, who is destined for someone else. It would be wrong of you to continue pretending to be someone you weren’t, especially since someone who might be out there already existing, deserved this place. 

Solomon’s worried voice roused you from your reverie. “You seem shaken. Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m fine,” you responded with a shaky voice. “It’s just… a lot to take in.”

“What do you plan to do now?”

“I’m going to break things off with him.”

“You say that, but will he let you?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” You let out a sardonic chuckle. “It’s not like there was anything going on between us, to begin with.”

“Hmm…”

“Solomon? What is it?”

“Oh, nothing.” He shook his head and smiled. “I’m curious to see how this unfolds. I wish you the best of luck.”

“Thank you.”

Yes, breaking things off with him would be the right thing to do. After all, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself in Maddi’s shoes as Diavolo blatantly rejected your affection. The thought alone was painful enough. Before that could happen, you’d part ways with him in amicable terms and through your own will. The exchange program was going to end soon, anyway. Truly, there was no point in holding on to him any longer. This would be for the best.

You would set things straight and end your arrangement with him the next time you planned to meet each other: at the upcoming celebratory ball at the Demon Lord’s Castle.

Notes: I went through a writing slump for a while, so I decided to work on a few shorter pieces before writing this chapter. Finally, it’s here! To those who had been waiting for this, I hope you enjoyed reading. Thank you for your patience! ♡

See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil

Obey Me! Masterlist | Main Masterlist

[bellylivesthepoguelife]

Overwhelmed. John B x Sarah

Request: Hi! How about a college related drabble? Sarah is super overwhelmed with exams coming up and calls John B starting to panic. He comes to see her and plans a whole night to distract her and comfort her 🥰

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N: I know that I didn’t QUITE follow the whole request on this, but it was getting a bit long, so I hope that makes up for it! I wrote this after I wrote the 500 words of pure angst for these two, so I apologize if it’s a little too angsty. Also, I’m still trying to get comfortable writing the comedic/banter parts of a lot of the pogues relationships. (I’m just not naturally witty so I really have to try!) Anyways, I hope you like it! Please let me know what you think!

Heroes and Villains of the Middle Ages was not a class that Sarah Cameron would have ever taken for fun. But when it satisfied one of her General Education requirements, it's not like she really had much of a choice in the matter. The fact that the professor was about as fascinating as the girls from high school that messaged her saying she'd be a "perfect fit" for joining their pyramid marketing business didn't help. So having to write an essay on 4 chapters of her "textbook" (each chapter ranging anywhere between 30-50+ pages long) was grating her brain, as she legitimately has zero desire to complete it.

An hour into her attempt to read the assigned chapters had her overwhelmed. She couldn't even pretend to find the content interesting, she had no clue how she was going to write a 1,000 word essay on it, and to put the icing on the cake: this was one of four that needed to be completed in the next two weeks as part of her final exam. Exasperated at the thought, she throws the book half way across the room as she finished the second chapter. Making it halfway through warrants a break, right?

She scrolls through instagram to allow her brain to run on auto-pilot for awhile. She scrolls past a photo JJ posted 43 minutes ago, of him, John B, and Kie hanging out at the Chateau. JJ snapped the photo, Kie leaning into him, laughing, while John B is in the background making a "you-caught-me-doing-something-I-shouldn't-have" face, no doubt saying something resulting in the laughs from the other two.

The picture makes her smile. Not just because it's of her friends, but also because between John B and JJ, they'll do just about anything to make their friends laugh. It causes her heart to flutter, and she decides to call him to further distract herself.

It doesn't take long for him to pick up, but it's not John B who answers the phone, it's JJ. "Hey Princess! How's college treatin' ya?!"

"Busy, boring, and yet still somehow not captivating enough to keep me from missing you."

"Oh, so you do miss me."

She rolled her eyes, "of course I do JJ."

"Not as much as you miss JB though, I'm sure." There's a pause, but before she can respond he's rushing out the words: "Oh, speaking of! Okay, Here's John B, I'll talk to you later, love you bye!"

She can tell John B is pulling the phone away from him by the decrescendo of his voice as he gets farther from the microphone. However, the sound of her boyfriends voice filling the speaker at her ear makes her smile even more.

"Hey Val." He greets, and she can tell he's smiling.

"Vlad. I must say it is nice to know that JJ misses me. Even though he won't admit it in as many words."

"Yeah, I think it's safe to say we all do."

"Is Kie still there?"

"Nah, she has to work tomorrow so she went home about 20 minutes ago. How did you know she was over?"

"I saw the picture JJ posted on instagram."

"Ahhh, yeah, that would explain it." She heard him walking around, saying goodnight to JJ before closing what she assumed was the door to his bedroom.

"Did y'all have fun?"

"We did- JJ what the hell, I just told you goodnight." He must have opened the door to John B's room.

Sarah could hear JJ say, "yeah but I didn't say goodnight to Princess! Night Princess!" He calls louder, making sure she can hear him.

"Goodnight JJ!" She calls back, knowing she was more than likely on speaker phone.

"Night Birdshit!" is the last thing she hears before she hears the door slam.

John B is back on the phone in an instant. "I swear, I might actually kill him tonight."

She laughs at their antics, and a bittersweet feeling settles in her chest as she realizes just how much she misses her friends.

"So," John B starts again, "How's your homework coming?"

Sarah scoffs. "Don't remind me."

"That bad?"

"It's just this class is so boring!" He's heard her rant about it a million times, but he lets her do it again. "I mean, it's a 400 level class. And I understand those are the more difficult ones, but--fuck--this is hard, and it's not even interesting in the slightest!"

"Which makes it only about a million times worse."

"It does!" She agrees, thankful that he's empathetic to her suffering. "And I have my Chemistry final next week, and my English 102 research paper due the week after. Nevermind the final project for my Geology, and Quantitative Reasoning class that I've only just started on--" She's ranting, and she knows it.

"Woah. Easy there, Val." He chuckles despite her. "You'll work yourself up."

"I am worked up!" The more she talks, the more overwhelmed she gets, and soon she realizes she's pacing her small room. "I just want to come home." The confession almost stuns her as she's catapoulted into a sea of homesickness, and even the knowledge that she'll be home for the summer in two weeks time doesn't even begin to calm the waves.

"You'll be home in a couple weeks, babe. Just 2 more, and then you're mine for the summer."

She knows he's trying to change her perspective, but she's not in the mood tonight. She's sad, and wants the space to allow herself to be sad. A half-hearted "yeah" is all she manages.

"Hey," John B doesn't miss the dejected tone of her voice, realizing how upset she truly is. "It's gonna be alright, Val. 2 more weeks is a piece of cake after the past seven months."

They'd seen each other since she started college, of course, but even then, the last time they were together was when she came home for Wheezie's lacrosse game 5 weeks ago. And after spending almost every day of last summer together, the distance began to do it's damage. Not on their relationship, no, their relationship was still so, so good. It was just on nights like tonight, when she was so overwhelmed that no matter what she thought of, it only made the drowning feeling three times worse.

She feels her throat tighten and before it even registers that she's getting emotional, she feels the gentle pricks behind her eyes indicating it won't be long and she'll be crying. "It's just really hard right now." She confesses, annoyed with how her voice is full of emotion, which is going to cause John B to go into his protective, "I'll-be-your-hero-and-fix-everything" mode.

And sure as shit, his tone becomes softer, and he's building her up. "I know it is, Sarah, but you're doing so well. I know this has been an adjustment for you, and for us, and it hasn't been easy, but you've been doing so well. You're killing it at college, and you only have these last two weeks, these last exams and projects and then you're home for the summer."

She nods, knowing that he's speaking truth, but still feeling discouraged. "It's just, everything's happening at once right now, and I'm just so overwhelmed, and there's just so much pressure riding on these last projects, and--I just want you."

"What do you mean?" She can tell he's laughing at her rambling confession.

"I mean I just want you. I miss you, John B." Great, that broke the dam, and now she's really crying. "I miss hugging you, and kissing you, and just being next to you. Because at least when I was home and busy, we were still together. Now I have to do all of this by myself, and I just feel so alone, and I just want to come home." She didn't intend to share all of these subconscious thoughts and feelings when she called him on the phone. She had initially just called for a distraction, and to see how JJ and Kie were doing. But sometimes the breakdowns come when you least expect them.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" The question is not how she expected him to respond.

She sniffs, thinking through what her Saturday plans were. "I'm- going to finish this essay, probably work on my projects, and study?" She phrases it like a question, even though she's answering his. After hearing silence for a little too long, she adds, "Why?"

"I'm on my way."

"What?" If she wasn't expecting him to ask what she was doing tomorrow, she REALLY doesn't expect him to say he's coming to see her at 10pm on a Friday.

"What do you mean you're on your way."

"I'm coming to see you." He answers as if it's the simplest thing in the world. She can hear his smile as he talks, probably patting himself on the back for being the hopeless romantic, her knight in shining armor, coming to distract her from her scholarly obligations.

"John B, you don't have to do that." Of course, she wants him to. But it's a ways to drive, and she knows his van isn't cheap to fill with gas.

"Shut up Val." He laughs. "I'm going to spend the weekend with you. But on one condition." He thinks, and then doubles back. "Okay, two conditions."

She rolls her eyes, always thinking there's no way she can be more in love with this man, and then he does stuff like this to prove her wrong. "And what are your conditions?"

"One. You have to write your essay. And I'm going to help you study. You don't just get a 'get out of jail free' card just because your man is coming to see you." He gets her to laugh with that one.

"My man?"

"Yes. That is what I am, isn't it? Your man?"

"Sure. And what's the second condition?"

"You have to buy me my own bag of Skinny Pop." Her eyes automatically roll for probably the 15th time tonight. "Okay, agreed. I will go to the store, and buy you your own bag of Skinny Pop."

"And you can't have any of it." He ammends.

"Alright, fine. And I won't have any of it." She grudgingly agrees.

"Deal."

"Deal."

"That settles it then! I'm on my way!"

"Drive safe, loser."

"I love you, Sarah."

She smiles to herself. "I love you too, John B."

"I'm serious though, don't eat my Skinny Pop before I get there."

[delldarling]

lingering | merrick

chasing truth | chapter four male faerie x gender/body neutral reader 4900 words  lemon | oral, hand job, ear attention, confessing feelings, friends to lovers note: this is both fastidious and puzzle pieces combined, edited and slotted smoothly into the overarching plot of chasing truth! While I won’t be taking down the original posts just yet, they will no longer be linked on masterlists!  chapter index? or chapter three?

⊱ ────── .⋅ 🜁 ⋅. ────── ⊰

As soon as the door shuts behind you, you freeze

There’s a man sprawled out on the small balcony outside your sliding glass door. His arms are limp across his chest and his face is covered by his hat, and- You’re six floors up. No one should have been able to climb this high without the police being called. Maybe he climbed down from the apartment above you? You creep closer, ignoring the steady thudding of your pulse in your ears and then you see him. You rather want to slump to the floor in relief. You know him. You know that hat and those messy curls, you know that beauty mark and half parted lips. You’ve been staring at them for the better part of a year, so.. Honestly, it’s Merrick, so you shouldn’t be particularly surprised - it’s just that the surprises with Merrick? They never seem to stop.

He’s always been fastidious about only speaking the truth, and yet he’s the poster child for the word secretive. You’re barely sure you know more about him now than you did when you met him a year ago - but he’s been a steadfast, if slightly rude, friend ever since. He’s never climbed up onto your balcony before though.

He looks like he’s asleep, with his red knitted cap pulled down over his eyes and the pale shock of his hair curling around the edges. His mouth is open too, lips parted to show the white glint of his teeth, a single dark beauty mark on the right side of his chin. His clothes are wrinkled, shirt and sweatshirt rucked up around his middle. You sort of want to stare, because of the expanse of bared skin, because you think you might see the curling edge of a.. a tattoo on his ribs, peeking out from under the hem of his shirt- You shake yourself, because you’d rather find out exactly what he’s doing up here. Why the hell couldn’t he wait at your front door? You’re tempted to throw the sliding glass door open, even with his shoes pressed up against it, because he deserves a rude awakening. He’d scared the hell out of you, laying prone there like that. As soon as you touch the door handle though, he’s pushing up his cap, revealing heavy lidded dark eyes, zeroed in on your face. He doesn’t smile, but you swear he’s thinking about it, lips just barely twitching.

“Merrick,” you greet, impatiently waiting for him to remove his feet so you can open the door. His feet drop to the ground, blinking blearily as he stands, almost a head taller than you. He takes a step back to slouch against the balcony railing, politely hiding his yawn in the crook of his arm. You unlock and slide open the door, trying, and failing, not to frown. “Should I even ask how you got up here?”

“You don’t always like my answers,” Merrick says, voice low and steady, while his eyes dart from your feet to your face, and then back. Tension eases from his frame. “But it was a combination of things. It involved some jumping.”

Your eyes grow wide, watering before you blink rapidly. Is he telling you he parkoured up the building? No, this shouldn’t surprise you either. He probably could. Can. You’ve seen firsthand that Merrick’s wiry muscles pack a hell of a lot of strength, but he’s just so- he yawns again, looking past you to your living room, eyes already sliding to his favorite spot on the couch. He’s so goddamn lazy. Or he wants to look that way. When push comes to shove he’ll never refuse someone asking for help, but he always makes a valiant showing of disinterest first.

“Can I crash on your couch?” He asks, making to move past you. You try and step back, attempting to let him in, but he’s too quick. Every inch of him seems to catch against you, trapping the both of you in the doorway. Your heart rate skyrockets as you try and detangle yourself from him, but Merrick doesn’t move away, doesn’t flinch. “Having trouble?” He asks, voice dry as the desert. If you didn’t know better, if a haze of heat wasn’t making you feel unsteady, you might think he’d done it on purpose.

“Yes! In fact, I’m having trouble with this tall, lazy-”

“I scaled a building today. That hardly screams ‘laziness’,” he argues, a wry smile twisting his lips. You want to smack that smug expression off his face - but you’d also like to haul him into your arms and kiss him.

Merrick is impossible.

“Why do you need to crash on my couch?” You ask, instead of doing either of those things. Merrick has always had very strict boundaries - you’d watched him push a woman, by her face, into the hedges when she’d tried to sneak a drunken kiss outside the bar once. He’d been startled, or so he said, but you’d been watching. You’d seen the disdain in his eyes that night, and you’ve seen it in the days since. Merrick isn’t really interested in anyone. “Aren’t you staying with.. You know, friends?”

Merrick breathes in, slow enough that his nostrils flare, jaw clenching, before he looks away and finally untangles himself from you. “What friends?” He asks, in lieu of answering, his hands dropping from your arms. He heads straight for your kitchen, and the fruit bowl tucked away on the counter.

“What friends,” you mock, following after him. You hope he hasn’t noticed how flustered you still are by any hint of proximity, how nervous he leaves you every time you touch. “I thought you were staying with Gar?”

“Garrick and I are.. Aren’t exactly friends,” he mutters, grumbling when none of the fruit seems to be ripe enough for him. He gives up with a sigh, leaning on his elbows and glowering at the wall.

“Garrick?” You ask, trying not to scoff or laugh with glee. “Merrick and Garrick, are you related?” You lean against the counter, and lift yourself up to sit on it, a grin pulling at yours cheeks when Merrick’s frown deepens. He looks like he regrets opening his mouth. “I thought the first time you’d met was-” You make a hum of a noise, considering. They had been familiar with each other after that time at the club. “I know you’re not brothers. Cousins?”  

“I can’t go back to Gar’s for a bit,” he says, completely ignoring your question. This feels more like normal. Asking things, and getting rushed subject changes.

You pause, mulling over your options. “Did you two fight?” You try, watching his hands clench on the counter top, tapping the back of your heels against the cupboards.

“I’ve never fought against Gar,” he bites out and then sighs, pushing off of the counter. “So, can I crash on your couch? Or would you rather…” His inhale is a little sharp, a flash of his tongue wetting his lips. “We could share the bed?” Merrick brushes some of his unruly pale curls off of his forehead, careful to keep his hat in place, and glances at you out of the corner of one dark eye. He’s trying to distract you, with suggestive words and smirking lips.

It’s working. He’s always been so careful about how he words things, so he must have left some clue- but he’s bringing up the chest wrenching crush you’ve always had on him and you’re not sure if he’s doing it to.. To be cruel, or because he knows you won’t press, or maybe, just maybe because… You don’t know if you even want to consider it. Regardless, you’re nervous, and elated, and hurt, all at once. He takes a step closer and you snatch the cap off of his head, trying to blink back the slight sting of tears. You toss it across the room, hoping it will distract him from the panic written plainly over your face.

“Don’t be an ass, Merrick,” you say, taking as deep a breath as you can manage, trying to calm down before you even chance looking at him again. When your breathing is steady, when you finally lift your eyes, Merrick is frozen.

His hands are outstretched: one towards you, and the other reaching for his hat, and his eyes are wide with shock. You open your mouth, immediately ready to apologize- when you spy the pointed, flesh colored ear-tips poking out from his hair. For a moment, it feels like time has stopped.

“Are you- are you wearing elf ears? Are you trying out a cosplay?” You blurt, reaching out to touch his suddenly red ears. Merrick catches your hand before you make contact, cheeks flushed, gaze darting wildly over your face. A choked noise spills from his lips when they part.

“I wasn’t trying to be an ass,” he forces out, stepping into your space, pressing between your knees until your thighs are on either side of his hips. Your heart is thundering against your rib-cage. Merrick has never been this close to anyone, not that you’ve ever seen. “And no, I’m not cosplaying,” he whispers, and his breath comes fast when you finally touch his ears. They’re real. Flesh and blood, warm.

“Did you- is it a body mod? I’ve seen people with split tongues-” But you stop asking questions when he whispers your name quietly, desperately, and then he kisses you. His long fingered hands cradle your face, warm lips catching against yours, and for just a moment, you forget to think about anything but sensation. You gasp against his mouth, curling your fingers into his hair, and try not to melt on the spot. Body mods or not, his tongue isn’t split when it slips past your parted lips. He tastes like floral tea, the aftertaste of it on the air you breathe, and the longer his hands are on you, the more you feel like you’re forgetting something important.

You pull back to breathe, gasping in air as he trails kisses down your throat, and then you groan, another painful thought clamoring for attention. You pull his hair, a little too hard, but he’s distracting and you need him to pause. “Merrick,” you whisper harshly, twice. He lifts his head, ink-dark eyes hazy as they focus on your mouth. His lips are red and swollen from your attention. “You’re not- you’re not trying to use my feelings as some kind of-”

He blinks back to awareness. “I’m no-” Merrick tries to insist but his words seem to twist in his mouth. He makes another choking noise before pulling you close again, nose against your pulse, breathing in the scent of you. “I’m not using you,” he says carefully, as you brush his hair away from his ears. “I swear I’m not.” Without the hat, his hair doesn’t look just pale, it looks white, truly white. Void of color, of anything but the shine of the fluorescent kitchen light against it. “You… you haven’t realized, then?”

The question throws you off. “Realized what? About the mods? No! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your hat-”

Merrick scoffs, pulling back so he can meet your gaze, eyebrows drawn together in exasperation.  “Realized how I feel,“ he explains, enunciating the words very slowly. You sway forward, half wondering if you’re dreaming. Merrick is talking about his feelings? About himself?

“What do you feel?” You ask, voice soft, knowing you must look ridiculous and lovestruck and hopeful.. But you can’t find it within you to care.

“I feel a thousand things,” he says, rolling his eyes with a gentle huff, sarcastic to the last. “If you’re asking what I feel for you… What I feel when I think about you..” Merrick’s tongue flicks out to wet his lips. “I’ve lingered far longer in this place than I should have, purely to stay by your side.”

The words feel momentous. Charged. 

“Lingered? What is that supposed to mean?” You finally ask, your heart clenching painfully in your chest. He was.. going to leave?

“I was only supposed to be… here, for a month, at most. I met you though,” Merrick whispers, low voice gone rough with emotion. He leans forward again, ghosting kisses along the line of your jaw. “And I couldn’t leave. I disobeyed, but I can’t-” This time, when his lips find yours, you don’t fight the heady way he makes you feel. You fall into the kiss willingly, biting at his lower lip. A thrill shoots through you when a wrecked noise escapes him, the pressure of the sound heavy on your tongue. You still have so many questions, you still don’t understand- but Merrick wants you. He wants you, and you can’t quite believe this is all happening. A year of casual hints and mild flirtation that you hoped meant something more. A year of you both dancing around the subject and he wants you.

His hands slide down your shoulders, and then skim your waist, pulling you to the very edge of the counter. “Please,” he whispers, breath warm against your skin as he speaks. “Let me show you how I feel. I can’t sa- but I can show you. Let me?”

"Yes,” you urge him, shuddering when his fingers dig into your hips. “Merrick,” you gasp, and then he rolls his hips, his erection pressing, hard and thick, between your thighs. You wrap your legs around him, eyes fluttering closed as his lips seal around your pulse. The longer he touches you, working at your skin with tongue and teeth, fingers slipping under your clothes, the heavier the air feels. You breathe in a lungful of the same floral taste as his mouth, and then Merrick seems to glow. He flickers, just barely, before he’s pulling back so he can gasp for breath himself. The glow vanishes, leaving you blinking, and unsure as to whether you actually saw that.. maybe you’re just hopped up on endorphins?

“Shirt off?” You ask, and smack his grasping fingers away when he reaches for your shirt with a self satisfied smirk. “I meant you,” you clarify, taking care of your own clothes. Merrick watches you first, eyes tracking your bared skin with a fierce hunger. You think for a moment that he’s going to ignore your request, but he finally tugs off his shirt when he glances up at your face. As soon as the shirt hits the floor, he immediately makes to put his hands on you again, but you grab hold of his arm, catching sight of dark lines on his fair skin.

“You do have tattoos!” You exclaim, feeling your jaw drop when he lets you see them with a weary sigh. He has insect wings, thick veined and larger than any wing tattoos you’ve ever seen. The top pair wraps around his shoulders and biceps, while the second pair disappears beneath his pants. A thought starts to form in your mind, but Merrick is turning back toward you, and rushing to tug you close. He captures your mouth with a bruising kiss.

“Look at them later,” he pleads, breath soft against your lips, while his strong hands stroke up your thighs. “I’d rather have my mouth on you.“ Merrick kneels, looking up at you from beneath pale lashes, pulling your ass towards the edge of the counter. "Will you let me?” He asks, nimble fingers making quick work of your trousers.

You let him.

You feel light-headed though, like your blood has rushed to softer parts as he helps you out of your clothes. This is Merrick, sarcastic, awkward Merrick, looking up at you like he’s never wanted anything more in his life, mouth warm and wet against your knee, fingers steady as they curl around your thigh. He slows when you start to tremble, teeth just barely grazing your inner thigh before he’s lifting his head and licking his lips. 

“You’re sure?” He asks softly, drawing his hands back to your knees, thumbs stroking over your kneecaps. “I’m plenty happy to keep kissing your mouth if-”

“I’m sure,” you rush to say, just barely keeping yourself from reaching out to tug on one of his pointy ears. “It’s just-” You break off on speech, smiling widely. “Just trying to live in the moment.”

Merrick huffs out a laugh against your skin, eyes falling closed as he leans in, pale lashes bright against his pink cheeks. He doesn’t stop when you shiver this time, just settles one of your legs over his shoulder and gets back to work, tongue and lips teasing the soft skin of your thighs and moving upwards. You have to hold tight to the counter to keep from moving. The first slow stroke of his tongue over you has you tensing, the fifth has your hands clenching on the counter and you forcing yourself to keep your eyes open. It’s beyond intimate when his eyes meet yours, lips closing so he can suck on you properly. Your vocabulary, your ability to speak in sentences seems to leave you entirely. You murmur his name as he tilts his head, slowly sucking harder, one of his hands moving in to help stroke, squeezing, fingers hot and- Biting your lip, moving slow, you slide your hand into the curls on the crown of his head, tensing when he moans. Between the vibration and the heat of his tongue, you’re breathless, the whole of your body locking in place as you try and hold yourself back. Merrick must realize though, must know enough in the bedroom to recognize the signs because he sucks harder and his hand moves just a little faster, humming softly against your skin. Heat blazes through you as you gasp, head tilting back, fingers curling a little too tight in his hair, pulling as you shake on the counter, coming on his tongue. Merrick doesn’t let up until you whimper and doesn’t move from his spot between your legs. He lays his warm cheek against your knee, grinning up at you when you can finally look down, light headed and dazed from his attention.

“Can I keep showing you?” He asks, licking his lips when you glance at his mouth. 

“Well you did suggest sharing a bed, and I’m not going to lie, I.. rather liked the thought of thaAT, Merrick!” Breath whooshes out of you as Merrick moves, throwing you smoothly over his shoulder as he gets to his feet.

“I can walk,” you insist, thumping feebly at Merrick’s tattooed back as he turns on his heel. Truth be told, you don’t mind the angle. You’re rather enamored with touching him at the moment, and the view- You’ve dreamed of stroking your hands over the broadness of his shoulders, of biting at his plush lower lip and shaking apart under his touch. It’s a heady feeling, having had it. Knowing that he’s wanted you in the same way. “I’ve never been laid low by a single org- ouch!” You jerk away from where he’s pinched your thigh, but all Merrick does is adjust so he can hold you tighter. He’s still ignoring your complaining though, continuing on his way to the bedroom. “Hey! Are you even listening?” 

He walks faster, and you catch sight of his heels and calves below the bare curve of his ass, tattoos stark against the pale skin. “I’m trying not to,” he says, and his fingers tremble in their grip on your legs. The cadence of his speech, the way he words things- why must he make everything sound like a secret? 

“Merrick,” you start, voice soft as you trace the wing lines of his tattoos. He doesn’t let you get any farther though, tossing you onto your bed, a sly smile curling his mouth as you bounce and gasp in mock outrage. He follows after you, spreading your legs so he can kneel between them, and places a soft, almost reverent kiss over your heart. You start to clench your jaw, emotion welling up in your chest, but Merrick- 

“Do you think I could lay you low with another orgasm?” He asks, leaning back and raising a brow when you don’t immediately answer. You kind of want to laugh, and sigh, and scoff, all at the same time.

It’s a relief, finding out that he’s still himself with you, even after what happened in the kitchen. It’s a relief that he’s still around, that this isn’t a dream, that everything you’d agonized over is-

You settle for scowling at his pretty smirking face. Actually, it’s kind of irritating, realizing how much time you’ve wasted mooning over each other in silence. It’s not something to dwell on, at any rate, because you still have questions for Merrick. About Gar, about his tattoos, about his ears and his stupid way of phrasing things.

“Am I still allowed to touch?” He asks suddenly, brushing his pale curls out of his eyes. The question startles away your scowl, but this is still very new. For both of you, and you’ve been quiet for a little too long.

“Yeah, definitely,” you hasten to say, heat coursing through your body.  

Merrick makes it so damned hard to concentrate on asking him anything, even at the best of times. Now that you both have this, you kind of despair of getting any answers at all. Even now, you’re distracted by the careful way he lays beside you on the bed. The way the dim daylight coming from your window plays over his shoulders. It almost makes his wings look like they’re moving. Before you can think any more about it though, he’s leaning in close, hand stroking over bare skin, and his teeth are gentle against your shoulder, followed swiftly by a swipe of his tongue. You press even closer, breath soft, and Merrick lays a trail of kisses along the column of your neck, long fingers ghosting over your back and hip.

The kissing, the touching… It’s new and exploratory and you’re both reveling in it, finally knowing you can be this close to each other- but your brain just doesn’t want to shut off. His tattoos, and his ears. You keep tracing them while he’s kissing you, palms cradling his jaw, fingertips soft against the delicate points, wondering about them. He has odd interests, but you never would have pegged him for any kind of body modification, not with the way he shudders over needles. His ears seem to be sensitive, with the way he leans into your touch, with the soft little noises that escape his mouth. ..Or maybe Merrick just hasn’t made out with someone for this long while they fondle his ears. You drag yours hands down his chest, and replace your fingers with your mouth, nipping at the fine cartilage- and Merrick spasms, groaning against the hollow of your neck, and the room grows a little brighter.

“Like that, do you?” You pull back to ask, voice low, heart thundering unsteadily in your chest. The room seems to dim again when you meet his gaze. He looks a mess, lips swollen from kissing, pupils blown and his ears flushed pink. His curls are mussed awkwardly around his ears, caught on the points, and a soft whisper of a laugh escapes you.

“Yes,” he says, serious, almost desperate sounding when he follows the word with your name. The laughter dies in your mouth, leaving your throat tight and aching with wanting. You’re not sure anyone has ever said your name like that. 

“..More?” You ask, coaxing, as all he seems able to do is breathe, and stare, and clutch at your hip. He nods his head, and your thigh slips between his when you get back to work, teeth careful against his earlobe. Merrick shudders under you and turns absolutely breathless when you tug at his curls to get a better angle. 

“You’ve ruined me,” he gasps, lips brushing against your skin as he speaks. “The way you look at me, how you feel, the way you say- say Merrick.” Again, it sounds like he chokes on the words, barely able to say his own name, but then his hips are rolling, and you realize how hard he is against your thigh.

You let the questions go, ignoring the puzzle pieces still quietly rearranging themselves in the back of your head, and focus on pleasure. You catalogue the way he sounds when your tongue touches the shell of his ear, the way he thrums with tension when your fingers curl around his cock. All you can taste now is that strange floral tea - on his tongue, on his skin, just breathing in the air near him. You can’t seem to get enough of it.

The both of you are starting to lose your nerves now, too eager for each other to be slow. 

“What do you want?” Merrick asks, panting when you pull away for air. You let go of his cock so you can think beyond the words you, or more, beyond the urge to simply keep going. “Tell me.”

You gasp out a laugh, just once, before you adjust, sitting back on his thighs. “Trying to make this all about me?” You tease, pleased, but slightly embarrassed by such acute attention.

“It’s always been all about you,” Merrick confesses, thumbs soft against your knees. His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks when he momentarily lowers his eyes, almost embarrassed by the amount of emotion is his words. He’s quick to raise his eyes back up though, intent on seeing your face as he speaks. “Your happiness is important to me, and-”

“Yours is important to me too, Merrick,” you interrupt, a little exasperated. “Let me,” you insist, repeating his words, enjoying the sight of him spread out beneath you. 

He rolls his eyes, but a dimple shows in his cheek, and now all you can think about is kissing it. “Hands then,” he suggests, and this time your laugh is brighter, enough to have your cheeks aching with the strain. 

“What are we, teenagers?” You ask, but you still lean forward, taking him back in hand and pressing another kiss to his shoulder as you squeeze. Merrick makes a small strangled noise, thrusting up into your grip.

“Hardly,” he murmurs when you start to stroke, fingers tensing on your hips. “Would have been too-” His eyes flutter closed for a moment. “Too impatient to draw things out this way. Would have rushed, wouldn’t have-” He breathes your name again, voice shaking, when you nip at his other ear. “Wouldn’t have realized what- what I have.”

You’re still stroking him languidly, not wanting the friction to be unpleasant, but he seems to enjoy the pace. He does lose his breath when you press yourself against his cock though, eager to help him lose his composure, and he almost keens when you bite his ear again. Your eyes are closed, enjoying the taste of his skin, the feeling of him, hard and pulsing in your hand, when he bucks.

“What do you have, Merrick?” You ask, because you’re curious. Because you want to know what he means exactly, without all the circles of questions and sidestepped answers.

“Ev-” He curses, hand curling around the back of your neck, and tilts his head until he’s nearly kissing you. It’s hard, keeping yourself from interrupting, from kissing him. You want to hear what he says though and that desire is stronger, if only by a fraction. “The only thing I’ve ever wanted for myself,” he gets out, and then looks shocked by the admission, pink mouth open in a perfect O, eyes wide. You want to ask what he means, but he pulls you into a rough, wet kiss, and wraps his hand around your own, speeding your pace. He’s actively chasing his own orgasm now, hips lifting, cock head rubbing against your skin, and you have to squeeze your thighs to keep from being displaced.

“Merrick,” you gasp between kisses, lips catching against his. The breath caught between the both of you is warm and sweet, and you could stay here, happily, doing nothing but stroking him and breathing in his kisses like you’re desperate for the air- and then he’s coming. He comes over your hand and his, dripping onto his belly and somehow he’s still wonderfully hard, still eager for more. You cease to notice the time, taking a minor break to clean up before you both fall back into bed, grinning and finding every excuse there is to keep touching, to keep tasting. Whether he’s using his hands, or his mouth, or just rutting against you, you feel like you’re nothing but nerve endings, over eager for every brush of skin, for every murmured word and breathless laugh.    

You lose yourself in him completely, until the both of you are smiling, half-awake idiots and it’s nearly dark outside. It isn’t until Merrick is drifting off to sleep on his stomach, eyelashes pale against his cheekbones, limbs still, that you notice his tattoo again. It reminds you of bee wings, or beetles, gorgeous, and almost frail looking with the changing breadth of veins. You run your fingers over the scalloped edges, amazed by the level of intricate detail, and then the realization hits you:

Merrick is a fucking faerie.

⊱ ────── .⋅ 🜁 ⋅. ────── ⊰

... turn the page?

[cherry3point14]

Stranger Than Fanfiction: Ch 4

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x Reader   Warnings: Like one big boy word. Criminal activity. Word count: 3,185. Chapter Summary: Staying late at work is usually nice and quiet. Usually. A/N: This chapter is so dumb but I love it a lot.

Ao3 if you prefer

Y/N would say that one of the perks of her job was getting out of the office from time to time. Sometimes a case required anything from a simple home interview to speaking to several family members over a number of days. She relished in the peace working away from inboxes and water cooler talk however, every once in a while she could find the same serenity in the uniform walls of her employment building. Today was one of those very days. Today she sat at her desk, alone, long past her colleagues' departure at five pm. The overhead lights were off and Y/N, whose fingers sped over the keyboard urgently, was lit only by the cool glow of her screen. 

“It’s not super peaceful when you won’t shut up.” As much as you fought becoming complacent to the voice in all honesty you were glad to have her back in some small way. You hadn’t heard her for days now, not since you started reading Supernatural. It’s only now that you’d finished, she was back to her usual tricks. Some ridiculous ten-minute lecture about you waking up late for work was your reunion this morning. While it was true that you were very late for work today—two hours to be precise—she didn’t once mention that it was because of your late-night finishing off Swan Song. 

That wasn’t too concerning. The voice ignoring your reading habits was minor in comparison to her being back at all. Her return meant your aneurysm hadn't been temporary and you were closer to one of two things. Solving the mystery of why Maggie Hall’s file was so important, or dying.

Obviously, option number one was preferable.

After an entire day of her, you have fallen completely into accepting that she's not going away anytime soon. For the most part, you have let her harp on like she’s looking for a book deal but now that you’re alone and trying to concentrate, you find yourself responding to her. For your own satisfaction of answering back.

She was feeling productive. Each word she wrote punctuated by the precise click of her fingers on the keyboard. A familiar sense of achievement swelled within her chest as she began to summarise her decision on the claim. Summaries are nothing more than detailed endings, which is why Y/N was particularly excited to be writing this one. More so than any other claim she had finished up before.

An ending was exactly what she was hoping for. The unusual situations she had found herself in over the last few days were too messy for even her to organize. Tangled up like a ball of string after being batted around by a cat. Logically then she was focusing on the only thing that made sense, tie up one loose end and the others would right themselves. Finish this piece of work and maybe she'd live.

How unfortunate then for Y/N that the universe did not look kindly upon her attempts to be orderly. How utterly unlucky that she had not guessed any of the answers correctly. Today was not fated to hold any happy endings for her. Not the closing of file twenty-four zero one, nor the reasonable explanations she had been searching for. 

Your fingers stutter to a stop. What the hell does she mean you weren’t closing this claim? You are ten minutes of proofreading away from pressing submit, you had stayed late to finish. At this point, it would take an act of God himself to stop you. 

That’s when you see a flash of light coming from reception. Flash is vague. A beam of light might be a better description, as in, the kind of beam emitted by a flashlight. Wait, there are two flashlights now. Oh shit. 

Suddenly you taste bile in your throat and your hands are clammy enough to be sticky. The voice said this case would kill you and now you’re sitting here working late, and she’s saying you weren’t going to close it and… and… is it going to happen now? You’d assumed it was something in the file that killed you but you’d also assumed you had more time. Really, truly, this could be it. Imminent death means about to happen, not will happen when it’s convenient for you. This is it, isn’t it? You’re about to be accidentally murdered in an office robbery because you stayed to work late. On that particular file. 

She was not prepared to die. Not while there still wasn’t a grey hair on her head or while she hadn’t been to the Grand Canyon. Y/N had no preparations for the end.

No. Not now. It couldn’t be. 

She had no will, no funeral plans, and no video message to her family about a series of clues leading to a great treasure. And on Wednesday night, early June with spring barely making way for summer was the last possible moment she would ever expect to meet her maker.

You want to hide but it’s impossible. Hiding would require you to have some control over your body. An impossible feat, while you're listening with bated breath to what you assume, is your last paragraph. 

Obviously, Y/N would not be dying tonight.

“Are you joking? How is that obvious?” You whisper into the dark, edging into frustration. Barely enjoying the relief of not dying when your narrator is toying with you. 

She still had a new life to begin. One which began and ended with two men that had left as quickly as she'd met them. Fate has a perverted sense of humor and had chosen to push her forward into the unknown. This is why these important men were breaking into her office at precisely that moment.

The footsteps of the intruders get closer. You don’t have a direct view of reception but you’d seen the flashlights on account of it being dark in here. They sound like they're near reception, maybe twenty seconds from coming in. Once they’re in the main part of the office then all they’d have to do is turn a little to their left and they’d spot you. In the corner hanging out. 

But it’s the guys breaking in? The cosplayers. They’re the wannabe Winchester’s who have turned to robbery to get their kicks? 

You don’t know if it's actually them, not really. Not until they do take those last steps into the room but you hear them before you see them. 

“Remind me why you haven't done some nerd computer thing to get this?”

“I already tried, remember? Their system says it’s still in process so none of the details are on their servers yet. And since we need to find out where the money went…”

“... we need to get the physical file. Got it.” Mystery man number one sighs before he continues, “S’no fun killing a monster if you don’t have to work for it.” 

A monster? It’s almost impressive how much these guys committed to whatever insane game they're playing. Almost being the keyword. These guys were genuinely crazy, and that was coming from someone with an unexplainable voice in her head. 

Y/N finally overcame the initial wave of fear that had hit her when the flashlights had cut through the darkness. She reached up and shut off the monitor on her desk, the last thing that had been lighting her up like a Christmas tree. Her laptop was still running in its dock, she had no intention of losing all her work. She only wanted to lose herself, hide, snuffing out the screen, and rolling her chair backward seemed to do the trick. She felt safer already. Her heartbeat returning to something akin to its normal steady rhythm now that she was cloaked in darkness. As soon as they were distracted she might even be able to risk slinking to the floor and hiding below her desk. It wasn’t a risk she was willing to take right now though, while they were still on high alert having just arrived.

You’re grateful that the voice is playing ball and giving you some useful information. It’s completely new, having so far only heard ominous foreshadowing and cryptic introductions, but it’s nice. Dare you say it, fun. For once in this whole ordeal, you actually feel like you’re in a story while you do exactly what she says. You sneak the smallest smile when you see their large shadows, finally step into the office. This might be where you have some luck on your side. 

“You check out the desks, I’ll go find the filing cabinets.” It’s pretty hard to make out with their backs to you but you’d wager it was the taller shadow that said that. 

The same bigger shadow starts walking towards the back of the office. He doesn’t know he’s heading towards the break room, although he probably thinks he has all night to figure it out. He can have all the time he wants as soon as you’re under your desk. Once you’re properly out of the way you look forward to not interrupting them as a stupid person might. You were perfectly ok with not being a hero.

Of course, she was not accustomed to the cat and mouse game of breaking and entering. Y/N was not used to dark corners and darker rooms. And since she hadn’t used one since the last time her power went out, she seemed to have forgotten how flashlights worked as well.

“What?” you splutter. Faith in the voice shattered in an instant. 

In the next second, you’re blinded by a light in your eyes, you reach up to block it out but as you do his voice booms out. “Sam! We got company.” 

The tall guy comes running and now there are two lights in your face.

“Do you think we could not blind me?” They start lowering their flashlights when the other shoe drops, “wait, Sam? You-you’re using the names too?” It shouldn’t shock you, they’re driving the car and wearing the flannel clearly, they’re adopting the names too. But until now you’d been able to compartmentalize the books you’d read and the men that drove around in a car with the Winchesters fictional license plate. 

Coming face to face with them she feels completely different now. The territory is hers; her office, her desk, her mug with her name on. The problem; this was not her game, it was theirs. Y/N was simply working late whereas they were more adept at the after-hours version of this story. She might think they were delusional but this wasn’t the first crime she had them on the hook for. She could only imagine the hundreds, if not thousands, of other illegal activities they had gotten away with, all to play pretend.

“Nobody was supposed to be here.” The guy pretending to be Sam says to the guy who you can only imagine is pretending to be Dean.

“Well, there she is anyway.” Wannabe Dean huffs, both angry and disappointed at the same time. “But hey, maybe this can speed everything along, no more looking around in the dark at least.”

They’re both very good at talking about you while simultaneously ignoring you. Neither of them even flinch when you get up out of your chair and walk over to the light switch.

The room flooded with light like any room would when a switch is flipped, however, this wasn’t any kitchen light switch. The office is a large space and the fluorescents required to illuminate it are industrial. It’s enough to pain anyone's eyes with how sharply their pupils contract. Unless you are the one pressing the switch in the first place. It was Y/N’s hand flipping the four switches required and so her eyes were closed in preparation. However the mystery men had been seconds from bickering so they jerk their heads as if trying to escape the inescapable, like it's the first time they've ever seen anything so bright. Y/N felt wholly better with the heat on her closed eyelids. Because she knew when she opened them the office would hers again, the control would be hers.

When you dare to look they both whip their heads to you, shocked that you’ve moved. You’ve managed to find an ounce of confidence in the light, or if you believe the voice in your head, a whole gallon. “I don’t know what game you’re playing pretending to be people, first at the house and now this. I didn’t tell anyone about this,” you motion a hand at where they're standing, “clearly that was my mistake. So, uh-just get out of here and I won’t say anything else about it.”

“Sweetheart, we ain’t playing games here and we ain’t leaving.” 

He steps towards you, a finger pointing to the floor to reiterate that he’s staying put. You wrongly assumed this would be as easy as it had been at Mrs. Halls when they'd run so quickly, forgetting that you'd had an audience there. 

“You are if you don’t want me to call down to security. I’m sure the cops would love a case like this—there’s an eyewitness!” 

Y/N would never in a million years be able to describe where the sudden anger that consumed her had come from. She was hardly an agitated person. She could be sad or sarcastic, she’d been known to give a measured but scathing comeback and some would even call her curious. That’s not to say she’d never been angry, she had, but anger was never the first thing she chose to be, or feel. It was always such a demanding emotion. So, then this agitation was almost foreign to her and the way it forced her hand, more so. 

“Maybe we should…” Not Sam starts before he’s interrupted. 

“No Sam. We need that file if we’re going to stop this thing and right now this is our only option.” He points at you now signaling that you are the ‘this’ part of his sentence; their only option. 

In another life, she might have rolled over rather than stare down the barrel of this argument. She might have seen the opportunity to get rid of them by giving them something small, like say confidential information, and done it without question. This was not her old life, nor the old Y/N. This was the new life she hadn’t realized was starting. The funny thing was she hadn’t needed to know. All she’d needed was this man in front of her to force her into a rage and as if by magic, she had begun to transform.

You push past fake Dean to make your way back to your desk, “that’s not happening. All client information is property of First National which means it isn’t mine to give. Not to mention the fact that you didn’t say please.”

Her shoulder connects with his and it's the exact moment she realizes how close he was standing to her. He realizes the same. He’s close enough to grab her and spin her around but Y/N's body shudders tellingly with his fingers pressing into the flesh of her forearm.

“I don’t know what kind of power trip you think you're on but..." He grits through his teeth still holding you.

“Dean, can you calm down?” 

The breaking point of your anger turns into a sardonic laugh aimed at him. “You too?” You pull your arm away and get back to your chair. “I can’t get normal criminals breaking in while I’m working late? It has to be two weirdos running around pretending to be the Winchesters.”

It’s clear immediately that you’ve said something neither of them was expecting. You’re sitting at your desk waiting for one of them to stop you from picking up the phone, while they don’t seem to even notice your hand is on the receiver. 

“How do you know that? I mean, how do you know about us?” The tall guy that you refuse to call Sam, even in your head, asks. 

Two pairs of eyes bore into you waiting for an answer and for some reason your hand goes lax on the phone. “I ran your plate from outside Mrs. Halls because you don’t work with me. And I found these books but I mean, why are you even driving around with fake plates from some books anyway?”

It was a simple question that you were hoping had a simple answer, you know, fanboys or something. Instead of any answer at all, they start having one of those lovely conversations that excludes your existence, again. 

“Goddamn son of a bitch, we’ve got to get rid of those things.” 

“Charlie said there’s no point now they’re online. How would we even start? Great example right here.” 

“So what? We just roll over and die?” 

Tall guy, not Sam, takes a reassuring step to fake Dean which means he takes a step away from you and your desk. “This might be a good thing ok, if she knows she can help us track it.” 

You refuse to believe it because it’s ridiculous. Those books are works of fiction and there’s no possible way they are real. Because if the books are true then that means monsters are… nope. You live alone so there’s definitely no way. But you should clarify. Even if it’s a thousand percent the most ridiculous thing you have ever heard, you should still double-check. 

“Are you trying to say that you’re actually Sam and Dean? Like, you think you’re Sam and Dean from the books?” 

It’s scarily-similar-to-the-description-of-Dean who leans in with both hands flat on your desk and growls. “Honey, we don’t think okay, we are them. I’m Dean and this is Sam, and those books you decided to read? Yeah, they’re about us.” 

“But that means monsters are…” 

“Real. Monsters, angels, and everything between.” 

She may not have known about the ticking clock already counting down the remaining seconds of her young life. She may mistakenly have thought that her newfound temper was the reason for her flushed cheeks. She did know one thing for sure. One completely life-changing fact with absolute certainty, because that fact was staring at her with more intensity than she'd ever known. A man named Dean Winchester just told her that every terrifying monster she could imagine was real. 

The voice in your head, unfortunately, had not been wrong yet.

Continue to Chapter 5.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23   Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278​ @bloodydaydreamer StrangerThanFiction tags: @jaylarkson

[yeonchi]

Kisekae Insights #20: Sea Princesses Part 4 (Answering the Barracuda Kingdom saga and more post-mortem updates)

“Sea Princesses… Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time.” – in response to a Brazilian Twitter meme

This is the first time I’ve revisited a completed segment to add more content to it. Back in #13, I teased a storyline for Soulbound Series 4 that answers the mysteries of the Barracuda Kingdom saga and Duante from Sea Princesses. At the time, I was taking a break from writing the story due to the coronavirus lockdown, but a couple of months ago, I was finally able to finish it and continue writing new stories. The embargo date I set for the story’s premiere has passed, so I want to take the first opportunity I can to share it with you all. Also, I want to address a few Sea Princesses-related things that have come up, but that will come later. Let’s get right into it.

Prerequisite requirements

Even though this is a Soulbound story, the characters from that series have very little involvement in the two-parter – in fact, only three minor characters show up and they mostly help the others in the fighting (I’m not good at working with large casts lel). That is why I’m able to tell this story to you without spoiling anything else.

The following Sea Princesses episodes are required viewing in order to understand this story:

The Lost Kingdom

The New Princess

The Guardians

The Healer

Reviewing the previous instalments of Kisekae Insights covering Sea Princesses (#11, #12 and #13 linked above) is recommended, but not required. The only main assumption made is that the Dryland girl (Windy) and her mother from The New Princess are descendants of the lost Barracuda Royal Family.

Lorah’s backstory

In #11, I wrote that Lorah wasn’t known to be a part of any royal family, but before continuing with the writing of the story, I found some introductory material I wrote in 2018 that stated that Lorah was the Barracuda Prince. I almost couldn’t remember writing it, but instead of making plans to change it later, I decided to utilise that plotline I forgot for three years (because I forgot to mention it in Decade, but I’ll fix it eventually).

Years ago, when the Barracuda Palace was destroyed in an earthquake, Lorah and a few of the royal family’s servants were thought to have died when they were forced to flee. Unbeknownst to them however, Lorah and the servants were saved by their fellow barracuda who had arrived to see what was going on. Lorah was taken to the Farlands, where he was raised by his family’s servants before he returned to Salacia some time after the end of the Time War. The kings and queens recognised him and allowed him to become a general in the Salacian Army, granting him a castle in the Turtle Kingdom to use as a base along with an army of Oni Riders. Nobody brought anything up about his family because they had no clue where they were.

Windy’s backstory

As I stated in #13, the name of the “new princess” is Windy Adams, a tribute to the namesake character of the third Sea Princesses main series book, The Windy Letters. Windy is 24 years old during her appearance in the two-parter, meaning that she would have been 7 years old during The New Princess. You could argue that she looks older, but then you could say the same for Polvina, Ester and Tubarina who are noted to be 7 years old in the official sources.

Fast forward to The Lost Kingdom, where the barracuda learnt that if they helped rebuild the destroyed Barracuda Palace, then there might be a chance that their royal family would return. They were happy for a bit, but then they became grumpy again because their royal family never returned… or so they thought.

Fast forward to The New Princess, where Polvina, Ester and Tubarina were left with more questions than answers after testing Windy, who had already left the island with her marine archaeologist mother by then, to see whether she really was the Barracuda Princess. Many questions are raised; how could a Drylander have read a book written in Salacian? Could someone else have gone onto the island and left “Goodbye friends” in the sand? No, Windy and her mother were the only ones on the island. They had the bracelet from the Barracuda Kingdom with them, so they might have been able to use that to read the book that Polvina had left on the island, but even then, how would they have been able to do it? Assuming that all this is true, then why were the barracuda being happy around Windy?

In 2018, Windy’s family was killed by Dai-Shocker when they attacked Santos. Though Yuki Yamaki and Marcela managed to confirm their links to the Barracuda Royal Family, Windy’s body was never found. The answer to all these questions can be explained with a simple explanation combining numerous elements. Speaking of which…

Duante’s backstory

In The Guardians, we learn that the goddess Salacia appointed the blowfish to be the guardians of Salacia, then covered it up by making each royal family’s history books say that their respective families were the guardians and tearing the respective pages out of the only public version in the Great Library of Salacia. As a result, the blowfish can speak to anyone they wish and be understood by them. Though the blowfish request Polvina, Ester and Tubarina to keep their discovery a secret, Hiroki and Duante are privy to this due to their contact with the goddess Salacia – this is referred to when Ester subtly reacts to them mentioning this secret.

In The Healer, Ester meets Duante, but he only allows her to ask one question and he disappears as fast as he appears. Ester’s only solution is to trick Duante into coming out and when he does, he becomes saddened because he didn’t want to meet Polvina and Tubarina through a trick. Though Duante told Ester that they could never be friends, he never said that it would be forever and as consolation, he gives her his name. So why did Duante seem like a wandering asshole back then?

Orphaned soon after his birth, Duante was found by the goddess Salacia, who raised him to be a guardian of Salacia and a healer of sick and injured sea creatures. Like the blowfish before him, Duante was given the ability to understand and communicate with every creature in the sea. He spent his life travelling around Salacia and the many other oceanic realms, doing what he can to help any sick or injured creature. In the 17 years after The Healer, Duante rarely ever showed up in Salacia.

The Aqua Conspiracy and the Poseidon Myth

The two statements are the titles of each episode in the two-parter.

In 2018, Salacia gave Duante the Aqua Driver and the mission of searching for the lost descendant of the Barracuda Royal Family on Dryland, namely Windy Adams. He managed to track her down to Santos, but he was caught up in a Dai-Shocker attack and was defeated.

Meanwhile, the Kougami Foundation were working on some new Core Medals (based on the new medals of the CSM OOO Driver) in the midst of a black hole paradox swallowing up the Riders and eventually, the world. Though they only made one of each medal to prevent Greeeds from forming, a Greeed still manages to form within the Same, Kujira and Ookami Core Medals before disappearing. The medals reappear in Windy’s house and possess her, transforming her into Kamen Rider Poseidon before she defeated the monsters. Windy’s body was never found that day because Poseidon saved her life.

By the time Duante got to Windy’s house, he was too late to save her family, but then, another supernatural force takes control of the Ebi, Kani and Sasori Core Medals and uses them to possess Duante. The supernatural force was Iemanja, the goddess of the ocean (more like the river according to Salacia) who was disgusted that a lowly Greeed had taken on the mighty name of Poseidon, the god of the oceans.

For the next three years, Poseidon went in search of worthy opponents to fight, but Aqua would constantly get in his way. Salacia’s concern for her two lost children led her to ask Hiroki for help searching for them, while the Kougami Foundation sent out OOO to help find the missing Core Medals.

After helping OOO and his friends fight Poseidon to no avail, Hiroki gets on the beers at the pub with Ester and Lorah. Some exposition dumps are shared and Hiroki gets frustrated at the dead ends and unsolvable mysteries until OOO’s group alerts him to a Greeed nearby.

Polvina and Tubarina encounter Jeopardy, Terumi and Minoru (the three characters from Soulbound) and challenge them to battle, but it is interrupted by Windy, wearing the bracelet and asking if they have seen Iemanja. When everyone arrives and points out that Windy is actually the Greeed, Poseidon takes control of her and begins fighting the Riders. Poseidon’s transformation sequence involves swinging the Deepest Harpoon in a cross, evoking elements of Kamen Rider Durendal’s transformation sequence. After everyone is defeated, Duante/Iemanja arrives and fights Poseidon, defeating him with the Oceanic Break and allowing Windy to regain control of herself.

Following another exposition dump back in the pub, Poseidon takes control of Windy’s body again and disappears to find more worthy opponents to fight in the sea and destroy Windy’s legacy. Tubarina realises that she is heading for the Barracuda Palace, but they can’t get everyone to Salacia by road in time. It is then that Hiroki and Polvina get an idea; the Riders (along with Jeopardy, Terumi and Minoru) use Mirror World to get to Salacia, where they alert the Shark King and all the other Riders. It is there that we get some amazing intercut transformation scenes based off the intercut transformation scene with Z and Geed in episode 15 of Ultraman Z.

Poseidon’s first opponent on the border between Salacia and the Farlands is Saula, the Salmon Princess (Alternative Zero, aka Bebe’s new owner from The Doll) and the Alternative Army. Poseidon defeats everyone one by one as she makes her way to the rebuilt Barracuda Palace in the Valley of Dusk. Aqua and OOO are Poseidon’s final opponents; Aqua has OOO use the Bikaso Combo to hold back Poseidon while he takes his medals, then gives them to OOO who uses the Saramiuo Combo to perform the Saramiuo Break Scanning Charge. After an Aqua Vortex from Aqua, Poseidon is purged from Windy’s body and destroyed as she lands on the throne.

Once everyone gathers at the Barracuda Palace, Windy reveals that her grandmother would always tell stories of how she came from the sea and was the princess of some kingdom until it was destroyed and they had to flee to Dryland. She also passed down her knowledge of the Salacian language in case they ever decided to find it one day. It is then that schools of barracuda begin gathering around the palace, cheering for the return of their prince and the arrival of their new princess. In case you didn’t get it by now, Windy is the lost descendant of the Barracuda Royal Family and therefore, the new Barracuda Princess.

Duante explains to Ester that he didn’t want to be friends with her back in The Healer because he had to keep his role as the guardian of Salacia a secret, but he eventually realised that his attitude back then made him seem impolite. He decides to stay and chat with Ester and her friends to make up for it. Lorah offers to take care of the Barracuda Kingdom in Windy’s absence while Miss Marla tells Windy that in Salacia’s absence, she can answer any questions she may have about the world of Salacia (the book series alluded to the fact that Miss Marla was more important than she actually seemed and in this project, that was because she was the messenger of the goddess Salacia).

With this, the Barracuda Kingdom saga has been resolved and a lot of loose ends in Sea Princesses have been tied up. To be honest, this storyline wouldn’t have existed if it weren’t for Kamen Rider Zi-O; given that Aqua is featured towards the end of the series, my decision to adapt the series in my project meant that I was obligated to introduce him along with any other Rider that was important to the story or original footage. Otherwise, I would have been happy with just saying that Windy and her family were dead and leaving it at that.

In regards to Iemanja’s inclusion in the two-parter – in the Afro-Brazilian Candomblé religion (which combines traditional West African religions with Catholicism), Iemanja is the goddess of the sea and their counterpart of the Virgin Mary. Originally, in the Nigerian Yoruba religion, Yemoja (her original name) is the patron saint of rivers. This conflicts with Salacia, who is Roman goddess of the sea, which is why she makes a snarky remark at Iemanja in the story. Of course, this isn’t how I got inspired to include her in the story; it was from a Candomblé hymn named Mamãe Maria (Mother Mary) which had the words “princesas do mar” in the lyrics. I wonder if it would be sacrilege to turn that hymn into a fast-paced techno theme song for Kamen Rider Poseidon?

Post-mortem updates

Since I have covered everything in this series, I don’t want to dwell on it any more than I have because it’s beating a dead horse at this point (unless Fabio Yabu decides to make something new for it). So I want to take this opportunity to address some things before it becomes awkward when I make an update post out of nowhere with no new material to provide.

In the epilogue of the book reviews, I mentioned that Dan Wyllie (who voices Marcello and possibly Sirilo and Veto) had pleaded not guilty to assaulting his wife, Shannon Murphy (who voices Tata), in March 2020. The way I wrote that paragraph made it seem like Wyllie was the villain, but it turns out that everything wasn’t what it seemed. In February this year, Wyllie was found not guilty of assaulting his wife thanks to some selfies he took after Murphy poured yogurt on him. The magistrate stated that Murphy “was not an impressive witness” and that “she had tailored her evidence to suit a scenario in which she had been the original aggressor”. I’m going to leave it at that.

I’ve noticed that the episodes in the Portuguese and Latin American Spanish dubs on Amazon Prime are shorter than the English dubs by 2-3 minutes. While watching a couple of episodes and following along on my transcripts, I discovered that some scenes were cut from the episodes. I have no idea why this is the case, but this seems to confirm my suspicion that the English dub is the original dub.

For some time now, I have been wondering why Sea Princesses got very little exposure over the years. Some of my speculative reasons include the relative novelty of Brazilian animation at the time of production, not exporting the series to Japan, the US or the UK, not getting the books published internationally (or at least in English) until 2020, the just-about-average writing in the series and the lack of focus on other characters besides the main five.

Recently though, I remembered going on the official Sea Princesses website on UOL over a decade ago and having to wade through all the Portuguese in order to get the (low-medium quality) images of the characters. I asked Fabio Yabu if it didn’t cross his mind to make an English website for Sea Princesses or if contractual obligations with Southern Star prevented him from doing so; he told me that Southern Star were apparently supposed to translate the website, but they never ended up doing so. In my opinion, I don’t think he had an excuse not to make an English website, or at the very least, put translated descriptions of the characters on any of his social media or art sharing platforms like Facebook, Flickr, DeviantArt or Tumblr.

It’s been over a year now since my first correspondence with Yabu and while we did discuss publishing the translated versions of the main series books on Amazon Kindle, nothing much has come from that, the two remaining literacy series books to be translated or the mistake in the second main series book on Kindle that is still yet to be corrected. When I reached out to Yabu recently in regards to this, he told me that he is currently busy with projects and the coronavirus has made things much more complicated in Brazil, so things are on hold for now. To be honest, I’ve been iffy over sending him anything this past year because I’m afraid that I might be annoying him, but he’s been pretty cool about it, so I won’t worry so much about it if I decide to send him another email in a few months’ time or whatever.

Anyway, that’s it for Sea Princesses (again) for the time being. The next time I mention something new about it will probably be when Fabio Yabu finally decides to do something or when I talk about it in my adaptation of Kamen Rider Zi-O. I hope you enjoyed reading my theories.