#i wish i could analyze your writing and detect who you are

[maehemthemisfit]

lyney is .. not one to trust easily.

you found it ironic.

or, perhaps, it fit perfectly — because why else would someone without trust become a magician if not to fuel their cynicism?

you were aware of this since first meeting him. he had a suave demeanor, sure, an air of swoon-worthy confidence — but that was just the type of person you were always weary of.

you didn’t believe in magic. he didn’t, either.

he had piercing eyes. a gaze that looked as if it could bore into your very soul and sear it while still hiding his intentions. yet, the look in his eyes was the one thing that he was unable to mask; and you, ever-observant as you are, picked up on the sorrow and hesitation within them without a second glance. though, in your opinion, it didn’t take someone as astute as you to notice that he was not all flowery words and romantic gestures.

it was a facade. that, to you, was clear to see — even with how desperately, and how adept he was, at trying to hide it.

the moment someone asked him about his troubles and he simply diverted their attention was the one that solidified your suspicions. while you never really had a solid foundation to build doubt upon, it seems you were correct — as usual. you relied more on intuition, you supposed, though that was just as unreliable as the look in someone’s eyes.

you, of course, did not inquire about this instance. after all, you figured prying would be a step forward and three back.

instead, you kept a close eye on him whenever you met. harboring a sly tongue, showcasing an air of confidence, and working in a field based around sugarcoated lies — why wouldn’t you?

it was only an attempt at learning more about someone born out of skepticism. so, imagine your surprise when this very same skepticism turns into more of a curiosity, then an infatuation, and then love.

you never really thought you could fall for someone like him. he was just too guarded, too dishonest — a far cry from yourself, who valued truth above all else.

even so, you two grew close. slowly but surely, he’d opened himself up to you, even as it scared him greatly to do so.

first, it was a small truth, here and there, in a sea of lies; until the honesty began soaking up the deception like a sponge, and instead what poured out of the sink next time you turned the faucet on was all verity.

soon after, your birthday came. it had already been a year since you’d met..? it didn’t feel like that long.

lyney was the first to approach you. that wasn’t unusual, of course; you two practically saw each other every day, now. he waved you down, sauntered up to you, and presented you with ..

“i have a feather here, just an ordinary feather... go ahead, you can hold it and see for yourself.”

you did as he said. you took the feather from his deft grasp, careful not to brush against him even if his hands were gloved.

“ready? and... boom!”

you didn’t flinch when it ‘miraculously’ changed shape in your grasp, turning into a flurry of colors before your very eyes. after all, you were used to his tricks by now.

“it was a party popper all along. happy birthday!”

he reached into the air, grasping a scattered piece of it between his thumb and forefinger.

“see this? i caught one of the paper streamers floating down. now, make a wish and picture a birthday gift in your mind's eye as i light it.”

and, you do. you don’t believe in magic, and you definitely don’t believe he can read your mind — but, perhaps .. you’d humor him. just this once.

“three... two... one... great! verrry good, i know exactly what you were thinking now. the last step, put your hand inside my hat...”

and perhaps he wasn’t all lies, because the moment he turned and pressed a soft kiss to your lips was the moment you did begin believing in magic — and, maybe, he did, too, because this time, it wasn’t a trick or meticulous setup. it was a true miracle.

“well? it it the gift you wanted?”

— the mutual who asked about sending a fic earlier!! happy (maybe belated, now?) birthday!

UUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

YES. YES THIS IS THE GIFT I WANTED !!!!!!!!!!!!! UYERHYJUEKSURUDSKDEDMURNMFJRH

[strawberrywinter4]

Fic Request:

John wanting to be in a relationship (no he's not gay (he might be gay for one hat wearing genius maybe~)) attends a speed dating event in which Sherlock insists on sitting next to him for so he doesn't end up with 'another terribly boring woman'.

And then Sherlock proceeds to sassily analyze each one because let's be honest he wants to be John's date.

Thank you so much for the prompt! I loved writing this story, it was so much fun <3

Pick and Choose

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Tags: Pining John, Eventual Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Getting Together, Speed Dating, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Jealous Sherlock Holmes, John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Make Out Sessions, Kissing, Neck Kissing, Humor, Fluff, Some Angst, Teacups break, Swearing

Rating: Mature

Read here on ao3.

*•*•*•*•

John wants to dig himself a hole and never come out. 

Speed dating was never a strategy he thought he would have to resort to, but here he is. The venue is nice, held in one of the hotels on the high end of town, though the participation payment was surprisingly cheap, why not? The food is decent and the interior is pleasing to look at, with white curtains, windows that showcase the streets of London, round tables scattered across the spacious room, and a sparkling chandelier to top off the scenery. 

There are a lot more people attending than John thought. Beautiful women are seen from across the room and now that he thinks about it, maybe this wasn’t a bad idea after all. He put on his best button-up shirt, one that matches his eyes (he thinks, at least), and though his hair didn’t wish to cooperate today, he still managed to comb it decently. 

“You know you look quite ridiculous staring at the various sweets in front of you. I suggest if you’d like something, simply take it.”

The familiar baritone voice shatters John’s thoughts. 

Slowly, he turns to see Sherlock looking at him impassively. John blinks in disbelief. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” John demands. 

“I don’t understand how you could attend such an event,” Sherlock says, dismissing John’s question. “Why do this when you could be on the case I offered?”

“I-”

“You told me you were visiting your sister. Next time don’t make a lie up on the spot, it was painfully obvious.”

“Sherlock-”

“I solved the case if you were wondering,” Sherlock says. “It was simple, too simple. I’ll have to ask Lestrade for a better one. Hardly a 5.”

“Sherlock,” John interrupts. “I’m not going to ask again. Why are you here?”

“To save you from disaster,” Sherlock tells him. “I knew you were desperate, John, but this is unnecessary.” 

“Well, you scare off all my other ones,” John retorts, releasing a strenuous sigh.

“If you’re really set on getting a pathetic girlfriend, fine. But I’ll have to decide if she’s adequate.”

John stares in shock. “No… no. Why do you have to decide?”

“No offense, John, but you’re not very good at choosing your partners. They always get in the way of the Work.”

“Or maybe the Work gets in the way of them,” John offers with gritted teeth. 

“Unlikely,” Sherlock murmurs, observing the venue. A buzzer sounds, a cue for everyone to get settled in their seats. “You’ll hardly know I’m here,” Sherlock promises. 

John highly doubts that. 

John takes a seat at a table in the back, his confidence in this situation decreasing by the second. Sherlock grabs a discarded chair and places it close to John, taking a seat. John looks at Sherlock briefly, watching the detective take off his scarf, revealing his long neck that looks quite delectable, if John’s being honest-

But of course, that’s a normal reaction. Sherlock is an attractive person and John will notice that from time to time. That doesn’t make him interested in Sherlock, that just means-

“John?” a woman’s voice asks. 

John realizes he’s been staring at Sherlock for a long period of time. He feels his cheeks heat and turns to the pretty woman, who has a curious smile on her lips. 

“Hi,” John greets. “How did you- oh… right. Name tag. Hah.”

“Obviously,” Sherlock mumbles and John steps on his foot for his troubles. Sherlock scowls, kicking John’s foot back in retaliation. John takes a sip of his drink to calm himself.

“Um… is this like a threesome thing?” the woman asks as she takes a seat, eyeing the two men with slight interest.

John almost chokes on his drink. “Uh- no. No, sorry. This- don’t mind him. He’s my…”

“No one in particular,” Sherlock chimes in.

“Yes. That.”

“Oh,” the woman says, nodding. “Well, I’m-”

“Charlotte,” John says, his chin jutting to her nametag with a smile. “Beautiful name.”

Charlotte blushes, giggling as she waves a hand at John bashfully. John can practically feel Sherlock roll his eyes. 

“So, Charlotte, what do you do?” John asks. 

“Accounting,” she responds, twirling a piece of her raven hair. “Summarizing financial transactions and all that.”

“She has two cats,” Sherlock murmurs, his voice low enough so that she’s unable to hear him.

“I quite like it,” Charlotte continues. “It’s not what I’d actually like to do, but it’s enough.”

“Protective father,” Sherlock analyzes. “He’d be a nuisance. He contacts her at least four times a day.”

“What I’d really like to do is be a flight attendant so I can get out of this fucking city and explore the world,” she says, frustration slipping into her voice. “I hate it here, actually.”

“Oh, uh- I’m sorry to hear that,” John sympathizes, shifting in his seat.

“Nicely dressed, cleaned jewelry, she’s being provided great sums of money,” Sherlock says.

“Sorry, did you say something?” Charlotte asks, eyes going to Sherlock. 

Sherlock gives his signature fake smile. “Not at all.”

The buzzer goes off and Charlotte stands, huffing a breath of relief. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you, George!” she says as she rushes away. 

John stares, watching her go. What just happened?

“And extremely disorganized,” Sherlock concludes. 

“God, I don’t need you spitting your deductions in my ear every second,” John scolds. 

“I’m assisting,” Sherlock retorts. “Quite wonderfully, if you must know.”

Another woman with blonde locks takes a seat across John. John’s about to say something before the woman holds up her hand, gesturing for him to shush. 

John blinks in bewilderment, but stays silent, looking around uncomfortably.

“Her sister forced her to attend,” Sherlock murmurs. “She has no interest in you or in any men for that matter.”

John wants to ignore Sherlock, but his curiosity is piqued. “Who’s she texting, then?” John whispers. 

“A coworker. She’s dedicated to her work, seeing as she has an outline of a second device in her pocket. The phone which she’s messaging on is her work device while the phone in her pocket is her personal device.” Sherlock makes a noise of disagreement. “Quite troublesome.”

The woman puts her hand down and finally looks at John, not bothering to show interest. 

“Uh- hello,” John tries.

“My name is Gabriella and your name is John, hence the name tag.” She sighs irritably. “I’m sure you’re a nice man, but in all honesty, you’re not my type. Do you know when this whole thing ends?”

“Oh, I-”

“Do you?” Gabriella asks, eyes landing on Sherlock. 

“An hour,” Sherlock responds. 

“God, this is torture.”

“If you really didn’t wish to come, you should have just denied your sister’s pleas,” Sherlock says absentmindedly. 

John shuts his eyes tight, knowing Sherlock’s forwardness never ends well. Gabriella’s jaw drops, her eyes flaring in anger. 

“I beg your pardon?” she asks. 

“Your sister is persistent, but her excessive guilt-tripping seems to control every aspect of your life.” Sherlock furrows his brows, his focus pointing toward the tablecloth. “My Lord, this is craft fabric. Practically plastic! How could they initiate such a dull detail when they hold this event in a sumptuous setting?”

“This is ill-mannered!” Gabriella argues. 

“Quite,” Sherlock agrees. “If they can afford this hotel, they can certainly afford better fabric.”

“No, you’re assumptions are ill-mannered,” Gabriella clarifies. She huffs, scooting her chair out aggressively before stomping away. 

John sighs, slumping in his chair as his hand rubs over his face. 

“I never assume,” Sherlock says matter-of-factly. 

“She couldn’t even sit with me for ten minutes,” John murmurs. 

“It’s hardly your fault, John. She simply doesn’t know how to prioritize her life.”

The buzzer goes off again. Just as John begins to lose hope, a woman with brunette hair and freckles surrounding her nose sits across John. She smiles kindly, shaking John’s hand. 

“Hello,” she greets. 

“Hi, um…” John’s eyes study her name tag. “Amelia.”

“John,” she says, taking her hand back. She chuckles. “I’m going to be honest, I’m not very good at this sort of stuff.”

“Oh, I completely understand,” John says, laughing with her.

Amelia’s eyes land on Sherlock, an unsure expression settling on her face. John waves him off, which Sherlock glares at. 

“Don’t mind him. Um- so, Amelia, what do you do?”

“I’m a veterinarian,” she tells him. 

John nods. “That’s quite the job.”

“Oh, yes, but… I enjoy it so much,” she says, giving a genuine smile. 

“I admire a person who’s dedicated to their work,” John says, a grin playing his lips. 

John would be lying if he said his mind didn’t drift to Sherlock.

No. No. Sherlock is out of the question.

“And you?” Amelia asks. 

“Uh- well, I was in the army. Now I work at a clinic,” John explains. "I'm a doctor."

She smiles. “How noble. Now that is very admiring.”

John is about to respond before Sherlock cuts in, “Recently separated.”

The air turns quiet. Amelia’s eyes flutter as if her mind is breaking a haze. “Sorry, what?” she questions. 

“No. Uh- don’t mind him,” John tries, but Sherlock is having none of it. 

“You still contact your ex-husband, obviously not over him. You came to this event to get your mind off him, meet someone new to discard the pain, but that won’t work.” Sherlock releases a long breath, showcasing his boredom. “If you’re still so attached to him, it’s probably best to stay out of another relationship. Bringing your secondary relationship problems into another relationship can cause an immense amount of conflict.”

Amelia stares at Sherlock, her pain evident. She stands and leaves without a word. 

John swallows, trying to process what just occurred. 

“You’re welcome,” Sherlock says. “I saved you from months of unnecessary complications.”

John’s knee bounces, agitated. John releases a humorless laugh. “Sherlock, that was extremely unkind.”

Sherlock furrows his brows. “She was still emotionally attached to her ex husband. I informed you of-”

“I don’t need your help!” John snaps, turning to Sherlock. “I don’t know why you’re being so bloody invasive in my romantic affairs, but I’m fucking sick of it, Sherlock. Go bother someone else for a change, hm? Go ruin someone else’s evenings, for Christ’s sake..”

With that, John stands and strides out of the hotel, not bothering to look back at the detective. As the cool London air hits John’s face, he hails a cabbie, getting into the vehicle. He stares out the window, trying not to think of the devastating expression on Sherlock’s face.

—

221B is quiet. 

John has been up in his room for the past few hours, the events of this afternoon swirling through his head. 

He’s changed out of his formal clothing, settling for a simple t-shirt and pajama bottoms. He lays in bed, staring up at the bland ceiling. Running a hand through his hair, he lets out a sigh, his thoughts coming back in full circle. 

He shouldn’t have yelled at Sherlock like that. John knows Sherlock was just trying to help (though he has an odd way of showing it). 

It’s endearing, really, how Sherlock’s mind works. John has always found it fascinating. 

The way Sherlock can look at something and acquire a fact of a thought, not only an assumption. The way he gets excited by the strangest and most perplexing things. The way most describe him as heartless, but he sympathizes with people in his own, unique way that’s difficult to understand but incredibly captivating to watch. 

The way he just sees things differently… that’s what piqued John’s interest from the start. 

The way his eyes light up when he’s analyzing a situation thoroughly, picking apart every aspect with precision. The way he has highs of anticipation for a case, but afterward he takes long breaks for himself, picking a specific place to sleep for hours. 

John is utterly in love. 

John suspected the realization would be surprising, that it would come in heavy waves, but it comes to him in a smooth sailing stream. Of course he’s in love with Sherlock Holmes. He’s known it for the longest time. It was only denial that was blocking the thought from his mind, the constant “I’m not gay” accusations only a way to escape reality. 

But no. John knows it’s time to face the reality, even if it is, for some reason, difficult. He’s in love with Sherlock Holmes. 

More like, he’s obsessed with the man. Fascination doesn’t even begin to describe the appeal he has for Sherlock. 

Just then, a knock sounds at the door. 

John stands, his knees slightly shaky from lying down for so long. Cracking his neck, he walks to the door. He takes a deep breath and opens the door, revealing Sherlock with a cup of tea in his hands. 

Sherlock looks unsure, almost like a kicked puppy. 

Guilt builds up in John’s chest for handling the situation so harshly.

Sherlock clears his throat, holding up the cup. “Tea,” he says. “I um- I made you tea.”

John stares at him, his heart swelling. 

“I apologize,” Sherlock whispers, looking away. “I was inconsiderate. I- I should have left you alone with your romantic affairs. You can… you can date whoever you’d like. Of course you can. I um- I suppose I… I just don’t want you interacting romantically with anyone who will be wasting your time.” Sherlock pauses, then shakes his head. “That sounds inconsiderate as well. What I meant was that most people are idiotic and they don’t deserve you…” Sherlock’s hands clench around the teacup. “No. Wait. That sounds… that sounds… that’s not what I meant. What I-”

“Sherlock.”

Sherlock stops talking, eyes flickering up to John. Gently, John cups Sherlock’s face as he steps closer. The detective’s cheeks flare considerably. John pauses, searching Sherlock’s eyes for any protest. 

There’s none. 

John kisses him. 

Everything is still. It’s silent besides the occasional sound of a vehicle passing by Baker Street in the dark of the night.

The kiss is tender, both of the men staying still. John pulls back, opening his eyes slowly. Sherlock seems stunned. 

John clears his throat, stepping back. “Fuck. Sorry, I- I thought…” He laughs awkwardly. “I’m so sorry, Sherlock, I-”

John is interrupted by glass shattering on the floor. The next thing John knows, he’s practically getting pounced on by a six-foot detective. 

Sherlock holds John’s face and presses his lips against his desperately, earnestly. Once John gains back his cognitive function, he kisses Sherlock back, holding his waist tightly. John doesn’t know how they ended up at the end of the room, but his knees hit the edge of the bed and he falls back onto the sheets with a grunt. Sherlock follows him, climbing atop him and straddling him. John makes a noise of encouragement, his hang gliding up to tangle through Sherlock’s curls. 

Sherlock’s lips move against John’s eagerly, kissing him into oblivion. John chuckles and pulls back slightly so that he can catch his breath—disappointment forms on Sherlock’s features. 

“Did I- am I doing it wrong?” Sherlock asks.

“What? No. No, of course not,” John reassures. “Just…” John nudges his nose against Sherlock’s. “Slowly,” he whispers in instruction. 

John brings Sherlock’s head down, capturing the detective’s lips. John sets a slower pace this time, allowing himself to get lost in the sensation. 

Sherlock’s lips are plump, a wonder to taste. Sherlock groans, following John’s movements as he glides his thumbs across the doctor’s jaw adoringly. John shivers at the movement. 

Yeah. He’ll never get tired of kissing Sherlock. 

John sucks in a breath, giving Sherlock’s lips several pecks before leaning back. Sherlock makes a noise of complaint. John grins, squeezing the detective’s waist. 

“I know. I know, love,” he whispers against his lips. “Just two things.”

“Make it quick,” Sherlock demands, his lips already trailing down John’s jaw. 

John huffs a laugh, his mind already getting distracted by the sensation of Sherlock’s eager kisses against his skin. “Well, you’re cleaning up the broken glass.”

“And making you another cup of tea,” Sherlock says, sucking a particular spot on John’s neck. “Obviously.”

“Mhm. Y-Yep. Obviously. And-”

“And?”

“And…” John cups Sherlock’s face and makes the detective look at him. “And I’m sorry for being such a dick to you. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“Don’t, John. I deserved-”

“Stop,” John interjects softly. “You never deserve that, Sherlock. Never.” John’s thumb soothes Sherlock’s cheekbone. “You’re brilliant. Everything about you is brilliant. My evenings are never ruined because of you. Nothing is ruined because of you. You’ve made my life better and I need you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that before.”

Sherlock stares at him, his breath shallow. “So you… you want me?”

John laughs. “I thought us snogging made that clear?”

Sherlock grins. “I’m not sure I’m fully convinced.”

“Mm. Well, then.” In a swift movement, John flips their positions, Sherlock now on his back and John straddling him. Sherlock inhales a shaky breath, his eyes full of anticipation. John leans down, his breath hot against Sherlock’s lips. “I guess I’ll have to convince you in full.”

Sherlock’s arms wrap around John’s neck, his long fingers running through John’s hair. “Please do.”

*•*•*•*•

Tags: @a-victorian-girl @whatnext2020 @totallysilvergirl @ninasnakie @thegildedbee @whodwantmeasaflatmate @with-a-ghost-mr-holmes @sherlocknjohn221b @jawnn-watson @blogstandbygo @lisbeth-kk @holmesianlove @itsonlytext @7-percent @chinike @peanitbear @mary-johnlocked @bakerstreetbe @curlyjohnlock @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @ceceliajupe @tindomerelhloni-official @ghostofnuggetspast @dw91165 @jolieblack

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[donotaskwhyiamhere]

Hey I love your writings of Shanks

I saw your post about writing others characters and I was wondering if you could do that for me (if you want)

He's pretty muscular, he has short curls and he wears a mask. Before he joined Shank's crew he was a very skilled detective. it doesn't take long for him to piece things together.

He has a quiet voice but he isn't shy by any means. He's very mellow but can be assertive when he feels it's necessary. He likes shanks because of his strong loyalty, and his goofy personality at times.

Please pleasee can you write some ideas for the twos relationship 🙏🙏 it can be fluffy or lemony I'd appreciate either

Shanks x detective m!reader

...............................................

Hello my coner peeps. I am at the moment in the start of my exams. So forgive me for being late.

I love writeimg for poeple so I'm happy to write for you, and as much as I would love to write something a little more spicy, I can't do that till June 13 when I turn 18. So if you want something spicy, please wait till then. I don't want to write something like that till I'm of age for some mute be uncomfortable. Thank you.

Now I hope I got this right. But if your not fully happy please tell me what else you would like to see, I love writing these for you. If you want a certain character (you) please just ask, no fear. I wrote this one differently, it's more Iike half story half imagines. I hope that's ok with you, if you want your character in a certain situation please do ask.

Enjoy, tell me if you would like a rewrite if unhappy.

...............................................

(Y/N) (L/N) was known for their amazing skills as a detective and mysterious nature, often asked to solve cases that was forgotten or deemed unsolvable. He was often hired by the marins and familys looking for lots loved ones.(L/N) had all they needed, money, fame, adventure and praise from those he saved but even with all of that it was lonely going on adventures alone. He wished for a family of his own, it didn't matter who it was and his wish was granted in a strange but simple way. Shanks

.......

One day you were hired by a marine to find out who had stolen their supplies of Sake and meat. Since they were both too lazy and just happened to recognize you. You confirmed the marine was just lazy because you easily found the thieving pirate known as Shanks, simply having a party on the beach with his crew. You watched quietly from the bushes, you looked away for a moment to grab you note little note book but the moment you turn back your surprised by Shanks right in front of you "Well, hello there peeping tom" You yelped falling back. Naturally you were scared, sure you had some muscle with a good build but you were not the biggest fighter, more brain the muscles.

To your surprise, again, he invited you to join him, for what reasons, you did not know. You sat quietly most of the time drinking along and listening closely to conversations.

SHANKS P0V

Shanks watched you from the corner of his eyes, he knew who you were, he heard story's of you but not many of your beautiful looks, your quiet nature, eyes darting around analyzing every small detail and word.

Shanks goofed around with you, teasing and making jokes, often ruffled your curly hair whice he loved feeling between his fingers. After a while he finds out your easily flustered, but not afried to bite back, whice leads into a flirting battle between the two of you. He gladly did most of the talking for you but would love how confident and sure you sounded when yu did speak.

But in all honesty he thought you were cute even if he thought it was a simple one night stand desire but as the night sky came he realized you had this type of innocents to you that made him feel... calm and exsited to see what more your hiding

....

YOUR POV

After a few hang outs with them you were asked to join whice you gladly accepted, welcoming the new life and family you wanted.

...............................................

IMAGINES:

• With your chill personality, Shanks would often tease you and flirt with you, especially when his drunk, pushing your buttons in every way he can to see you get flustered or get you to say something back. But of course he would back of if you get uncomfortable.

• Sometimes he'll say something out of pocket just to see what your reaction would be.

• When it comes to your hair he loves the feeling of it between his fingers, often patting your head, ot would happen so much you expect him to scratch your head when your next to him. He just can't get enough of it.

• Now when it comes to your mask, he sees it as a part of you even if his curious to see you without it on. He'll respect your privacy if you say no.

• If you wear the mask because of a scar you wish to hide, he'll tell you no matter how bad it mite be they'll mist likely things it's amazing. If you wear it because of fashion, he'll want to see all of your maskes and ask whice would fit him. If you wear it for special reasons whether it's a family item or for special needs, he'll make sure no one tries to take it off forcefully.

• Shanks finds your detective skills impressive and will often ask you to find things or go out on islands with him to see if you can help find anything of value, basically treasure hunting. Naturally he'll ask what kind if mysterys you have solved and oh heaven if you start ranting to him about it he'll be so lost but be happy to listen anyway just to see you excited to talk.

• After some time Shanks will grow found of you and will most likely develop into a casually relationship, even if it's casually he'll still stay loyal to you, with lots of cuddling, kisses, some how even more head pats.

• If any conflict where to happen with an enemy and your close by, he'll make sure your behide him.

• And oh heaven does he love making out with you in small hidden places, hand in your hair and body's pressed together, the thrill you both want and feel just drives you both over.

...............................................

EXTRA

You could feel Shanks arm holding you close to him as you sat on his lap, having another party for who knows what reason thus time. His hand going to ruffle your hair every no and then.

After late into the night you finally managed to help get him to bed, bit before you could leave to help the others your pulled into bed with him, his alcohol breath hot on your neck as he whispered to you, his eyes closed, mumbling "Don't leave me" his arm pulling you closer to him by your waist, pulling you under the blanket "my little mystery, so beautiful" you can't help but smile at the drunken goofball, pulling your mask down to kiss his forehead. "I'll stay right by your side captain" "promise" "with my life" happy with your response he plays with your hair as you both fall asleep in each other's hold.

[kyouka-supremacy]

Hello!! I hope you're surviving this Terukoless week! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

I love how you analyzed Teruko. For me, if I were Asagiri, I would've utilized a lot of real-life references --- at least the ones I heard of from @/velvetbyrne.

For example, she was tutored under Mr. Natsume Soseki. I would've found it interesting if, at some point on a Hunting Dogs mission, she feels as though there could be something more, as in, a beginning of healing. Not joining the ADA, but forming her own agency. But she limits herself, thinking she only knows of war. Perhaps she really likes fairy tales, not because of happy endings --- but because they end. War never ends.

I think she could be preluded (?) to by Ranpo, perhaps him and Edgar Allen Poe discussing good mystery books, and Ranpo says the only book that's been interesting to him was Iwata sisters, Iwata Yumi and Iwata Yuriko (pen names the real life author used under Mr. Natsume's tutorship). Ranpo was one of the big real life authors to review her work and say how it was psychological (if I understood correctly).

Additionally, the real life Ranpo thought she could be the "Japanese Agatha Christie", but she passed away before she could. So, if she does die in this chapter, I would've moved her death to meeting Agatha Christie, because it seems she's very powerful. And then it would heighten the stakes of losing to the Order of The Clock Tower.

So sorry this is so long but the ask you answered made me think alot^^ I also would've let her meet Naomi, and perhaps a hidden sadness that she never got to be a schoolgirl, since that's Naomi's character design. Perhaps she spares her for, 'innocence's sake'. However, I think she and Yosano would fight because Yosano says she's capable of making her own path, but really, truly the idea of being out of war would scare her so deeply, she says something like, 'What do you know? You were only a nurse, not one of the half-dead!'. Perhaps they knew each other from the war, even! Something like a SSKK or SKK rivalry DJDJD

I know Asagiri hasn't clarified if it's really her Funeral Chapter, but that's how I would go about it!

Have a good day/night, I'm so so so happy to see you're back! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)🫶🏾💨🩷

I love all of these so terribly much 😭😭😭😭😭😭 Please, take Teruko's writing in your hands.

I do recall reading about the irl author being a mystery writer, and in a detectives story like bsd is, I wish she was given special regard because of that, but alas. I especially like the comparison with Christie!!! I wish they were linked in the manga too. If the irl counterpart travelled to England… Then what if the character Teruko has met Christie at some point… Here's how more Teruko screentime can still happen through flashbacks (delusional).

But seriously, I love the concept of her founding her own kind of agency to no end ｡:ﾟ(;´∩`;)ﾟ:｡ And I'm OBSESSED with the possibilities of her interacting with Naomi, that's such a juicy aspect to explore. I really like the idea of a Teruko who's bitter over her lost childhood in general. Thank you so much for sharing all of this!!!!

[everlaneptune]

Third official post! Yay! Also hi! I apologize for the wait. Like my second post, I've been experiencing severe writer's block. Writing these takes a while, too.

Allow me to place where credit is due. Thank you to Hoyoverse for providing the silk flower for my custom-made Tumble header, which I made myself!

Italicized paragraphs is Xiao's inner monologue, also provided by official Hoyoverse lore. Although, it's not as extensive of Part 1. Speaking of! This is Part 2 of "Qingxin and the Golden Eyes." Go read Part 1 if you haven't done so!

Now, please enjoy!

WARNINGS: Gore (blood, severe injury), character death.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

•°•

Petals of the Lingering Memories

Xiao

Moonlight beams down onto the stone pillars of Jueyun Karst. Herons peer down from the high cliffs, beaks grooming at their feathers. Birds along the cobblestone pathways peck at the ground in search for food. Amber on Mount Hulao glistens beneath the moon’s smile. A Dihua flute echoes through the valley, performing a song all recognize to be ‘Lover’s Oath.’

Shadows flee while the sun rises. Demons retreat at the sound of the Dihua flute. A vigilant yaksha pursues the mellifluous tune. He navigates the stone spires efficiently, footsteps featherlight as he traverse one stone to the next. Luminescent eyes of molten gold search for the source of the Dihua flute. His gaze concentrates on a maiden perched on top of the highest pillar, qingxin surrounding her lonely form.

Crouching one last time, he leaps into the air and flies to her location. He lands gracefully on his feet like a cat. Shock courses through him before it disappears from existence. The yaksha kneels before her, his head bowed in a display of respect.

The melody stops briefly. A gentle laugh escapes the maiden.

“Welcome back, Xiao,” she greets him. “Have you completed your chores for the night?”

He answers. “The demons near Qingce have been terminated. Entities tainted by karma will not be able to detect a trace. Passerby will not suspect anything is amiss.”

“As expected of the Conqueror of Demons,” she titters softly. “And how are you feeling?”

A pause. Xiao analyzes himself for any physical injuries. The blood on his person belongs to the demons, not him. He proceeds to examine his mind, which remains untouched by his karmic debt. It’s a normal occurrence nowadays since she plays the Dihua flute while he slays demons. Once he confirms nothing seems out of the ordinary, he replies.

“I’m fine.”

The maiden before him turns, her soft pink hair swaying with her movement. Her gentle, mint eyes gaze at him so tenderly. She gazes at him as if he’s the only person who matters during these warring times. Yet, he wishes that he could hide away from her gaze.

That gaze should be directed at someone else who deserves it, not him.

Lady Qingxin has always been his saving grace, but he doesn’t consider himself to be special. She treats everyone with respect, treating them like how she would like to be treated. Alas, she is tentative to the yaksha’s needs. When his karmic debt overwhelms him, the nullifying tune of the Dihua flute relieves him of the pain. She aids him in the battle against the gods’ anger, relieving everyone from karma and demons plaguing this land by cleansing it with song.

Even though the corruption has stopped spreading long ago, she continues to play to ensure his safety. She does not want him to succumb to his karmic debt.

A flick on his forehead pulls him out of his thoughts.

Xiao stumbles away, his hand lifting to shield his forehead. He notices that the group of qingxin drifts alone in the wind. Now, Qingxin has left her spot on the cliff and kneels before him, her arms resting on her knees.

“You’re doing it again,” she says. “Retreating into the deep recesses of your mind. ��I am unworthy of such praises,’ or ‘I do not deserve such tenderness.’” She rests her chin on her hand. “Something along those lines, yes?”

Xiao gazes at her. Then he shakes his head.

“No,” he answers. “I am thankful for your praises, Lady Qingxin.”

If he responds with the truth, the Dihua flute will be beaten against his head. Yet…

THUNK!

Xiao grimaces when the wooden instrument strikes his head.

“Liar.”

Qingxin sighs. She rises from the ground, yet he remains kneeling. He knows better than to stand at the same time. When her foot taps his knee, the yaksha stands.

Warm arms envelop him suddenly. Xiao tenses, the sensation foreign to him, yet he melts shortly after. He reciprocates the embrace, his head burying into her shoulder.

“Welcome back, Xiao,” Qingxin repeats. “You must be exhausted. Shall we go to Wangshuu Inn and have almond tofu?”

“The offer sounds tempting, my lady,” he replies. “But I would like to remain here for a moment more. It’s… peaceful.”

She laughs softly. “I knew you’d say that.”

The maiden guides him over to the cliffside. Xiao complies with her request to lay down, remaining mindful of the qingxin around them. He situates himself, his head coming to rest on her lap. Qingxin cards her fingers through his wild mane, untangling knots and rat’s nests. The soothing touch tempts him to close his eyes and enjoy the sensation.

“What would you like for me to play?” she asks him. The girl readies her flute, her fingertips covering their respective holes.

“The ‘Nameless Song,’” Xiao replies. “Or whatever you call it.”

“Wu Ji?” Qingxin titters quietly. “Of course.”

She checks her instrument by executing random notes.  Once she deems her

She plays a few random notes to check the condition of her flute. Once the instrument passes the test, a harmonious sound floats into the night. A gentle breeze drifts past them, and Xiao knows Barbatos carries it across Liyue. From Minlin to its neighboring regions: Bishui Plain and Lisha. From the plains, the Qiongji Estuary. From Lisha, the Sea of Clouds.

He knows because he often hears her music from miles away.

Xiao enjoys the tranquility of the moment. He listens closely to the harmony that she plays. His hands rest on top of his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

Ba-dump… Ba-dump… Ba-dump…

The image shatters when he recognizes the warmth of blood.

Xiao jumps to his feet.

Instead of laying on the stone pillar at Jueyun Karst, he stands in a field not far from Wangshuu Inn. Demonic corpses lay on the ground, and crimson stains the gravel. The reeds have been sliced to ribbons from the brutal blows of his polearm. Demons surround him, cackling to each other. He pays no mind to the creatures surrounding him.

His only desire is to find the source of the blood.

That’s right.

He pivots on his foot to find Qingxin standing there, her arms spread wide. A demon stumbles away in fear. The yaksha swiftly catches the maiden before she falls onto the ground. His eyes widen upon spotting blood staining her gown, turning white silk into a deep maroon.

He examines the wound. Several layers of bodily tissue have been cut. It spans from her right shoulder down to her left hip. He sees a bone peaking out between the muscle and tissue. It’s deep… Too deep.

For the first time, Xiao experiences a mundane emotion.

Fear.

“Qingxin?” he calls out quietly. “Moondrop, can you hear me?”

Why does he treat her so gently? It seems out of character for him. Xiao has never shown such tenderness towards someone. He is fearful of displaying his vulnerability, afraid of what Qingxin might think of him.

At that moment, he forgoes his fear. The stone walls around his heart collapse.

“Xiao?”

A soft and gentle voice calls out to him. Xiao almost cries out in relief upon hearing that voice. Almost.

“I’m here. I’m here,” he answers. The yaksha holds her close. His eyes sting, and he sheds a tear when he blinks. “Please, hold on. I’ll get you somewhere safe, I promise. Just hold on, okay?”

“Xiao,” Qingxin says again. “I need you to do me a favor.”

Dawn approaches, and so does the inevitability of death as it encroaches.

It’s too soon.

“I will do whatever you ask of me,” Xiao whispers. “I will terminate these demons and take you to Wangshuu Inn. I will ensure that-”

“Swear to me that you will live a fulfilling life.”

What?

“Do not dwell on my death. Instead, fight for the people of Liyue.”

“You’re speaking nonsense,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “You’re not going to die here! Not if I have anything to-”

“Adeptus Alatus!” Qingxin interrupts. She coughs out the blood congealing in her lungs. “As the Goddess of Song, I order this of thee!”

Xiao attempts to resist her command, his body and mind combatting his instinct to obey. Qingxin notices that resistance, as she always does. She makes the process less painful, the tender caress of her hand momentarily distracting him.

Chains of obedience bind to his wrists and lock around his neck. Her order forces onto him the instinct to protect mankind. Most important of all, Xiao replies to his name bestowed onto him by the Archon of Geo.

Reluctantly, the yaksha lowers her onto the ground. His mind screams not to abandon him, clashing with this newfound instinct to protect humanity. Her gentle smile reassures him that her sacrifice is necessary. She lowers her hand from his cheek onto her abdomen.

“As… As you wish,” Xiao forces out.

Her smile never fades. Qingxin closes her eyes, breathing her last breath.

Xiao rises from the ground, the familiar weight of his polearm appearing in his hand. The demons surrounding him draw near. When the first beam of sunshine peaks over the horizon, illuminating Qingxin’s pale complexion, the yaksha strikes.

Anger devours him completely and drives him to eliminate every foe. Xiao refuses to forgive the fallen gods who have taken her life, his beloved Moondrop, neither will he forgive himself. He doesn’t care for the flesh blood staining his clothes.

He doesn’t mind how everything hurts: how his muscles ache from swinging his polearm so fiercely, or how his energy drains from utilizing Barbatos’s gift.

Instead of collapsing, Xiao supports himself with his weapon. The yaksha turns to Qingxin, ready to pick her up and carry her back to Jueyun Karst. Where she laid now has qingxin.

The yaksha turns to her body only to spot a patch of qingxin. Without a second thought, he picks them as delicately as he can. At the end, he cradles a bouquet of twelve qingxin with care.

Archons, how his heart aches.

“Twelve is a remarkable number,” Qingxin has told him. “A bouquet of twelve roses stands for love and passion. Their stems communicate the perfection or completeness that one feels. The number itself is associated with an entire year, the twelve hours of a day, and the twelve signs of the zodiac. Quite fascinating, don’t you think?”

He stumbles back to Jueyun Karst.

Stumbling back to Jueyun Karst, he intends to inform Morax about his daughter’s death. Alas, the sound of a Dihua flute distracts him and lifts the karma plaguing him. Knowing that the cleansing is necessary, he trudges into the direction of the mellifluous tune, never surrendering the qingxin.

… 

How long has it been?

Xiao slows to a halt. He lifts his gaze to the lanterns strewn across the pathways of Liyue Harbor, signifying the return of Lantern Rite. Bustling streets arouse a sense of claustrophobia in the yaksha, but he pays them no mind for the traveler’s sake.

He remembers that Aether excused himself a while back. Morax - Er, Zhongli has dragged him off somewhere and failed to tell him. At least Xiao doesn’t have to listen to Paimon during this chaotic, yet joyous, time.

Xiao can always disappear from these streets, and the traveler will never know of his absence.

At the same time, the yaksha has a feeling that he cannot shake.

“Qingxin!”

A name. Her name. It floats into the air amidst the public.

He startles a few passersby when he leaps into the direction of the voice. His heartbeat thunders like an echoing gong within his ears. Xiao navigates the turquoise rooftops with surprising efficiency, even though he doesn’t travel around the harbor often. He stops occasionally to listen for the voice. He darts into that direction when he hears it again.

He stumbles upon Heyu Tea House where Tea Master Liu Su stands. The yaksha recalls Zhongli mentioning him in the past. The mortal describes a familiar story that Xiao recognizes immediately. It reminds him of those painful memories about that evening. 

What am I wrestling with? The tactful answer would be old grudges, unfilled dreams, the lamentations of the vanquished.

Xiao cares not for what Liu Su says. It doesn’t surprise him when the tea master mentions his millennia-long suffering known as ‘Bane of All Evil.’

A familiar, gentle voice speaks up, and the yaksha’s heart skips a beat.

“Why is that his millennia-long suffering is referred to as the ‘Bane of All Evil?’”

He peers down at the tea master’s audience, and he nearly collapses at the sight of her.

She sits at a table by a young boy. Her pink hair lays in a braid behind her, the end grazing the floor. Her minty orbs peer at Liu Su curiously. She adorns clothing similar to that of Zhongli, but the only difference between them is the color. He wears black, earthy brown, and gold while she wears black, forest green, and white.

One key feature gives her identity away, and that is the hair clip that he gifted her years ago. It is an artificial qingxin with two leaves and red beads.

A question arises deep within his mind.

Why take her away from me only to bring her back, Celestia?

“That’s where our story ends, ladies and gentlemen!”

He almost falls off the roof when Liu Su’s voice booms throughout the quiet area. The audience applauds him, and the sound pains his sensitive ears. Xiao wonders why the traveler invites him to lantern right when Aether knows that he doesn’t like going into public places.

Realization hits him like Morax’s boulder.

Qingxin.

The yaksha peers down to see her spot vacant. He leaps down and leaves Heyu Tea House. With a sniff in the air, he detects a faint trace of glaze lilies. Xiao pursues that soft fragrance, walking swiftly to avoid making a scene.

He refuses to let this opportunity slip from him!

“Wasn't that amazing, Qingxin?” The young boy’s voice says again. “I never heard a story like that before! This version is better than the original!”

“It was amazing.” He hears Qingxin reply. “But we have to hurry home, or else Mom and Dad will start to worry.”

Mom and Dad?

Xiao slows. He doesn’t recall her having a family.

He reminds himself that she’s a potential reincarnation of the goddess.

Keep it together!

Qingxin descends a ruby stairwell leading up to the tea house. She holds the young boy’s hand and guides him through the crowd. The girl’s back faces him, and Xiao knows better than to sneak up on her.

He sprints towards her, his hand reaching out and latching onto her wrist.

“Qingxin?” he calls out her name faster than he realizes.

The bustling streets of Liyue Harbor fades into the background. Turning to him, she studies him for a moment. No recognition sparkles in her eyes.

She retains none of her memories.

As it should be expected from someone who underwent reincarnation.

She goes to speak, but he interrupts.

“I have mistaken you from someone else.” He releases her hand. He steps away to create distance between them. “Excuse me.”

Agony embraces his heart, the mundane emotion overwhelming the yaksha. He disregards the tears forming in his eyes. Xiao flees, but the pain doesn’t stop him from looking back.

He watches Qingxin hurry over to the young boy. Once their hands intertwine, she peers back at him. Their gazes meet for a moment before the young boy drags her away. Her brother, he finally assumes.

He doesn’t entertain the possibility of meeting her again. A life of solidarity is a difficult one. The last things he needs is a mortal Qingxin becoming part of it.

Xiao meanders to the back entrance of Liyue Harbor. He leaps down to cross the wooden bridge that will take him to Lisha. From Lisha, to Minlin. He wants to venture to the stone pillar where Qingxin once played. He starts his patrol there and forces himself to remember the fading song of the Dihua flute.

When he reaches the stone arch of Lisha, a voice calls out.

“Wait! Wait, stranger!”

Xiao faces her, surprised to find her sprinting towards him. The distance closes between them, and Qingxin hunches over to catch her breath. He watches her, having no clue what to say. She does, however. She speaks for them.

“At least tell me your name before you leave!” she says. “And where to find you! I know that you’re the voice in my head! The one who told the story alongside Tea Master Liu Su!”

He’s shocked.

When has he spoken to her? If so, he hadn’t done it intentionally!

The yaksha averts his gaze. He shared his story unconsciously with her, and he admits that it’s his mistake. He had no idea that he had that ability!

How selfish could he be?

“Adeptus Xiao,” he replies. He ignores how his heart leaps with joy. “You will find me at Wangshuu Inn.”

With that, he disappears into the night. His heart rejoices at the reunion between two lovers.

Xiao wonders if it has a mind of its own.

. . .

© everlaneptune 2024

[cynicalmusings]

another brainrot. i am so sorry xiao's is so long and the others' aren't. idk what happened i blacked out and awoke to a mini fic. anyways, here's another one.

ambiguous relationship, gender neutral.

warning for: whatever is implied (reader receiving) here is definitely not so good, possibly disturbing descriptions of a severe mental break, idk know heizou that well so possibly ooc, barely proofread.

your last gift to heizou was a puzzle. what a detective he was, to not notice the signs. but what signs? even now, it confuses him to no end- it sears its way into his heart and his mind, permanently nestling nausea into his gut- every moment, every memory, every word from your mouth in the days leading up to your disappearance, they bring nothing but bile to the back of his throat. there must have been something, something that could have tipped him off. but it seems like celestia was playing sick tricks on him, because he comes up empty. much like a riptide, he is pulled under in a blink, and it seems like his days blend together into dim, hazy buzz as he spirals farther into something much more cancerous than grief. what a detective he was. to have his greatest companion, his partner in crime, to have you slip from the gaps of his fingers in a split second of vulnerability. heizou curls over the surface of his messy desk, the wooden surface disappearing under mountains of research, papers, clues. he stays standing, despite the fact that he's clearly swaying on his feet, the fact that he seems so utterly close to collapsing onto the table. the evidence is useless now. they found you, days ago, and whilst it makes him sick to think that a near stranger was the one that discovered you, he knows that wouldn't have been able to stomach it. heizou slowly, deliberately, swipes each and every painstakingly analyzed paper off the desk. they all flutter to the floor, and the blank, empty surface of the wood seems to mock him. heizou leans forward, forehead against the worn table, and weeps.

how is he supposed to live with himself anymore?

some very short ones because i ran out of writing juice:

ambiguous relationship, gender neutral. warning for: basically lobotomy, i forgot how visions worked so i educatedly guessed, guilt, depression, and self harm

albedo having to nurse you back to health after you lose your vision in an accident. but he just can't stand the sight of you living as an empty husk, with empty eyes. albedo, the scientist that he is, throws himself into his work. but he knows, everyone that passes by him on the streets of mondstadt- that sees his eye bags, sees the dull look on his face, sees the way he seems more like a ghost than a living being- that whisper and stare and pity him- they all know. you are not coming back. but perhaps, just maybe. if he pulls enough all-nighters, if he exhausts himself enough searching and researching, if he forces his eyes to focus on the work on his desk, fighting the urge for sleep, maybe he can fix things. albedo wishes he were human, because a synthetic being cannot cry, even if he wants to more than anything. but at the very least, klee, poor klee, who is suffering just as much as him, doesn't have to see her big brother break.

(kind of) ambiguous relationship, gender neutral. warning for: torture, ptsd, survivor’s guilt, probably ooc.

you, a fellow matra, and cyno, your general, on a mission gone wrong. you, who has to watch him get tortured for information. it's really you that's being tormented, as you are forced to witness it, as you are forced to choose between your duty to the people, and the only one that could truly love you, the only one you could love so truly. as the information they so desperately want ebbs up into your throat, burning your tongue. cyno is strong, but not strong enough to bite back his screams, and you are not strong enough for this. you curse yourself for the thought, but perhaps he should have died there, instead of having to live on with the scars. perhaps you should have died there, instead of having to live on with the guilt. every day, you wish it were you. each time he flinches away from your touch, each heartbreaking, split second look of fear, each time you torture yourself into the endless nights you lie awake, each time that you have to wake in the morning, and remind yourself, that you have to be strong enough for the both of them now.

my good fellow, have you perhaps ever heard of the word ‘happiness’? /lh

in all seriousness, you are very, very good at writing angst. the xiao one was more than enough, and you sent in three more… you’re a legend.

[manako-no-yami]

open for wenclair ficlet requests

i just finished the show yesterday and i'm itching to write them, but i have yet to come up with my own ideas lol so if anyone has anything they want written, hmu! if you need examples of my writing, you can check my writing tag #clod not lefting but or my ao3. My writing tag is mostly links to stuff on my ao3, but there's some other stuff in there, too. at this moment, however, i do not have anything wenclair. i would like to fix that. also, i do write nsfw, but i'd like to keep this blog mostly sfw.

my thoughts on wednesday, enid, and wenclair under the cut, in case anyone is curious about it before requesting something:

Wednesday dislikes emotion (both in others and in herself) but she isn't so emotionally constipated that she can't understand them. I think it's funny to think of Wednesday being like "I am experiencing an Emotion? I am having Feelings? What is this Sorcery? I do not understand. Must kill with fire." However, she has Morticia and Gomez for parents… So I think she does know what romantic love is and how to identify it. She has just decided that that is not for her. I can understand her denying and refusing to indulge in romantic feelings or simply disliking the entire thing, but I don't think emotions are alien to her. Furthermore, she's a writer and a detective. Both require understanding human emotions to analyze motives. She may have a blind spot for herself/willfully ignore traces of it that reside in herself, but she isn't completely unfamiliar with the concept of Human Emotion.

Enid is very anxious and self-conscious about how others see her, but she also has a difficult time staying quiet and not speaking her thoughts out loud. And inside, she prioritizes being true to herself more than she does fitting into the mold. This means that she might care about what other people think and crave validation and acceptance, but at the end of the day, no matter how much she may wish she could take the easy way out and just do as she's told, she will choose to rebel in order to stand for what she thinks is right. I also think her colorful style is a sign that she enjoys standing out. She's afraid of negative attention and being rejected, but craves positive attention. Unlike Wednesday, who does not care about attention one way or another. This means, once again, her priority isn't really fitting into the mold. She wants to be accepted, sure, because she's anxious and fears rejection, but she's struggling hard to find and express her own unique identity. So, paradoxically, she cares a lot about what other people think and seeks approval, but at the same time refuses the boxes they want to put her in. She is very unapologetically herself even though sometimes her anxiety makes her wish she wouldn't be because it can make things harder for herself.

I am flexible on who initiates first for wenclair. I can see it going both ways.

I think Wednesday has a secret romantic streak and a not-so-secret penchant for melodrama that, combined, makes her a very good sweep-you-off-your-feet, intense, whirlwind romance love interest for enid.

On the flipside, I can totally see Enid having a secret bloodthirsty streak to match Wednesday's.

I might add more to this later but that's all I got off the top of my head

[envy-of-the-apple]

Hey, just stumbled across your page and wanted to drop an askfor yandere Connor if your still open.

What about Connar with a regular darling, they're no cop or detective but came to the station to help out a friend. Lets say Gavin, they've been friends for years and while the reader is oblivious to Gavin's advances Connor is not. Which leads to him snapping, insue yandere activites.

If possible gn nutrual pronouns please, also I'm a sucker for soft Gavin and hardcore hc hes a "I hate everyone in the world but you" type of person

bestie ngl I hate gavin. I caNNOT write him to be a half decent person. Will you accept acquaintance Gavin who is kinda worried for your safety but really just wants you to get out of his hair so he can go back to doing nothing?

Lingerie is gender neutral, right? I think it is. Everyone deserves to feel sexy. 

oh wow i literally deviated from this ask so much im so sorry bestie let me know if you want me to redo it 

DBH Yandere!Connor x reader

(Warnings: stalking, yandere, non-con touching, implied non-con, incompetent police work lmao)

Despite past prejudges, Connor had quickly risen up to become a star detective.

He was extremely efficient, almost everyone he worked with could only sing high praises of him. His partner, Anderson, was quick to respond to his new place by his side, and there were talks of him becoming the first police android to ever be promoted.

You were happy for him. You really were. 

You just wished you would've been told of his staring problem.

Or maybe you were overreacting? Maybe he does this to everyone? You shuffle with your feet, awkwardly fumbling with your hands, trying to pretend the android wasn't raking his eyes over you, analyzing every nook, every feature, every secret you ever thought you could hide.

"Tin Can, the fuck are you looking at?" Gavin suddenly barked.

Connor only blinked, his LED whirrs yellow, before he turned back to his desk. Gavin glanced back at you. 

“Yeah,” He said, “What’d you say again?” 

You winced at his tone. It was condescending, bored. You honestly couldn’t blame him. You barely even knew the guy. He was an ex of a friend, the only thing you two knew of eachother were your names. He really didn’t have to care. 

You bit your lip. 

“Well,” You said, “It started a month ago. I-I don’t really know how to explain it but...I feel like I’m being watched all the time.” 

The grocery store, your workplace, even your goddamn bed at times. You constantly felt these eyes on you, watching you went, scrutinizing everything you did, recording every action you made. 

Gavin looks unimpressed. You quickly move on before he can interrupt and not-so-gently suggest paranoia and hypothetical drug use. 

“And-and I brushed if off at the time, but then I started finding things missing...” 

Now that caught Gavin’s attention. He rose a brow, looking at you with a flicker of interest. 

“Missing?” 

You nodded, “Like a few weeks ago I couldn’t find my hairbrush. And now it’s becoming bigger things, like: photos, books, clothing,” 

You decide against telling him of the more personal item that were taken. Like your red-laced underwear, swiped from your drawers. 

“I have security cameras, but whenever I try to look through the tapes, chunks of time are cut out. Like they’ve been messed with,” That or there’d be static covering the screen, interfering with anything that you could see. 

“Also...” You hesitate this time, your voice growing smaller, “Apparently my neighbor saw someone leave my apartment, just last night. She said it was a man.” 

Your boyfriend, you remembered your neighbor cheerfully telling you when you got back home yesterday. Your boyfriend had left your apartment. She looked too happy, too excited for your perceived romantic relationship. You didn’t have the heart to tell her you were single and you lived alone. 

Despite the dread you felt oddly relieved. You finally finally had proof. Something tangible. You weren’t imagining this. This wasn’t all in your head. 

Gavin nodded, propping back in his seat, “Did she anything about what he looked like? Any physical features. Does she know if he was an android or a human?” 

You faltered, “She-she said he was tall, dressed in a suit. Brown hair. She didn’t say he was an android. She wasn’t able to get a good look.”

Gavin hummed, he glanced over at his computer. 

Then, he sighs.

“Listen,” He finally said, “I know this sucks to hear...but we really can’t do anything with so little evidence.” 

At least he had the decency to look kind of apologetic. You felt angry, burning. You barely managed to squash it down, trapping it so you could hear him speak. 

“The most we can do right now is have an officer come by to check the place out. You can bring your cameras over and we’ll see if someone’s been tampering with them. But...again, that’s really all what we can do.” 

You told yourself to not expect much. The police weren’t known for their stellar service. But...was this really all what they could do? You had evidence. A witness. 

You briefly contemplate on really getting angry. Showing it. Screaming. 

But you were never that type of person, so instead you duck your head, pretending there isn’t a pit growing in your stomach. 

“Okay,” You finally said, “Thanks anyway.” 

He gives you a look of pity, showing a little more concern this time.  

“Hey uh,” Gavin reaches up to rub his neck, “If you don’t mind waiting. I could take you home. You-you okay with that?” 

You managed to smile, “I would really appreciate that. Thank you.” 

He nods, now much more relaxed, “Yeah-uh. Let me-let me go talk to the Captain. Just wait here.” 

He pulls himself from his seat, and you watch him disappear into a glass office.  Reed was a detective, years of high stress situations scrapping away the softness, leaving hard callouses. Despite it all, you appreciated the effort he put in to come across as kind of gentle to you. Like he was actually approachable.

He didn’t have to offer you a ride home. He didn’t have to offer you the comfort of talking to someone you knew, rather than another cop. He just did and you appreciated it. 

Still, the relief you wouldn’t be going home alone didn’t brush away the fear you felt. You were still alone in this fight. Gavin, the police, they couldn’t-no they didn’t- do shit. Was coming here a mistake? Did your stalker know that you’d even gone to the police? Would they get angry? Would they retaliate? 

You drew in a shaky breath. It was too much, this was too much. Maybe you should stay with someone else for a few days. Maybe you should move back in with your parents again. Some company might not shake the creep off but...but at least you’d feel safe. 

You were so deep in your thoughts that you didn’t see the figure hovering. A hand tapped on your shoulder. You jumped. An apologetic smile greeted you. 

“I’m sorry,” Connor tilted his head, “I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

You shook your head, “No, no it’s fine, I-” You gave a breathy laugh. “I’ve just been a little jumpy lately, Detective.” 

Connor nods. He looks so alive right now. Filled to the brim with feelings. Its different than the looks he gave you when you first arrived to the precinct. Calculating. Emotionless. 

Guilt surges through you and you throw the rude thoughts away.

“Pardon me,” He says politely, “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with Detective Reed,” Of course he had, “ He said he was planning on accompanying you home, correct?” 

You give a nod, “Yeah...Is...is there a problem?” 

Connor seems to hesitate, “No, it’s just...The Detective has a lot of cases pending. I’m not sure if he’ll be able to assist you, at the moment.” 

For a second, you’re torn between feeling guilty for taking Gavin’s time, and indignant. In the end, politeness wins and you’re getting ready to ask Connor if he could tell Gavin you left already when he quickly rushes through his next words. 

“Instead, I am more than willing to take you home,” You look at him, “If, of course, you’re comfortable with it.” 

Connor definitely had a way of making you feel breathless. You weren’t expecting the sudden offer; it effectively caught you off guard. Relief flushes through your body and you give a smile. 

“Thank you,” You turn to look at the office Gavin disappeared in, “No really, I appreciate it.” 

Connor returns the smile. It’s a little more awkward, like he’s used to mirroring emotions rather than expressing them. He bends down to grab your stuff, politely handing them to you in with tentative hands, before ushering you out the precinct. 

Detroit winters aren’t kind, and a cold wind greets you from the door. The chill is enough to not make you care about the taxi waiting right by the sidewalk. You feel grateful to just slide into the warmed up seats, the detective close behind. Connor watches you type in your address with frigid fingers. He doesn’t speak until the car starts rolling. 

“You’re dehydrated,” He says. 

You look at him, confused. He gently taps the LED on his temple and you laugh. Right, it was an android thing. 

“I’m not really surprised,” You muttered, “I haven’t really been focusing on my health recently. Not with all the stress.” 

“So I’ve heard.” He glances at your hands. “Are you comfortable with talking about it?” 

His blunt curiosity is a breath of fresh air. You prefer it over the tiptoeing other people do, their looks of pity. It made you feel like you were some charity case.

 “No, I don’t really mind,” You’re sighing and the sudden exhaustion of the past few weeks is finally catching up to you. You feel your head droop a little, eyes a little less focused. 

“What do you wanna know?” 

“You’re thoughts, mostly,” He says, “How you feel about this...stalker.” 

You flinch. You’ve never used the word before. Usually you say ‘follow’, or something else that made this seem less serious than it actually was. Stalker, made things real. 

He’s noticing your sudden stillness, you wave off any attempts of reconciliation.

“No, no, it’s okay,” You’re laughing weakly, “It’s kind of what it is, though. Right?” 

“I guess, a part of me was kinda’ hoping this would all be over by now,” You say, “I’ve had some friend’s who’ve had obsessive ex’s. They usually followed them around, threatened whoever they were currently dating, but they’d eventually leave them alone.” 

You glance out the window, “I thought this would be the same, but...it isn’t.” 

“I’m angry, I guess,” You admit honestly, “Or at least, I try to be angry. I don’t know how but I...can just tell this person isn’t doing this out of malice. It’s-it’s just curiosity, for them.” 

It’s not out of revenge, nor out of any past issues you’ve had with others. And that’s the thing that really gets you. This isn’t out of any sort of feeling that you initiated. This was a person who was simply doing this, because they could. 

“You’re scared.” Connor states, something you’re reluctantly agreeing too. 

“Terrified,” You correct, “I-I just don’t know what they want from me, much less who they are. Lately I’ve been sleeping less that feels so vulnerable to be asleep when someone could be right out my window. It’s...it’s too much, I guess.” 

It felt good, to finally vent out your frustrations that you’d been holding in for weeks. You didn’t have to pretend that everything was okay. It levitates the dread of your chest, and you’re turning to look at Connor. He’s fallen silent, and for a moment you wonder if he hasn’t truly deviated because his eyes look so emotionless. Like he’s a machine. 

“I’m sorry,” Connor suddenly says. 

You’re turning to him, about to tell him not to apologize, that it’s not like he’s the one who’s torturing you, when you realize you have no idea where you are...and the car was slowing down. 

The car comes to a complete stop in an empty field, miles away from the city. When had you started derailing from the route? When had you stopped paying attention where you were going? What was he going to do-

“It was never my intention to scare you,” Connor said, casually reaching to put a hand on the controls. You watch his skin peel back. 

 “I was simply trying to document some things. Recon, if you will.” 

A bright Error appears on the screen. You hear the happy click of a car lock. 

“Though I may have miscalculated a few things,” Connor continues. You can barely hear him over the sound of your heartbeat, “Your neighbor, for instance. A small anomaly, yet it cost so much.” 

He sighed, like he was disappointed. 

“Would you like some water?” He suddenly asked, “I also have some food if you get hungry. We may be here awhile.” 

That hurled you off the edge. You immediately broke out into tears, desperately trying to squish yourself against the window. 

“I’m sorry-I’m sorry-I’m-I’m so so sorry,” You blubbered, “I don’t know what I did to you for this just please don’t hurt me just-” 

Connor reaches out to place a hand on your trembling thigh, cornering you. His touch appears to be out of comfort, but its too firm, too sensual to be anything but hunger. 

You flinch but you don’t fight back. You’re too scared to. The fear of what he might do if you make him angry tramples out any desire to fight. 

He hushes you and you can see a semblance of feeling has returned in his eyes. Its too dark to resemblance fondness. There’s a slight smile on his lips. 

“Don’t cry,” He kindly says, “I won’t hurt you but.” He tilts his head. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t getting impatient.” 

Your hands are over your mouth, and you’re staring at him with silent horror as he starts to pull out something familiar. 

Red and laced. 

“I haven’t seen you wear this, yet,” Connor muses, “It must be for a special occasion.” 

He leans forward, tone sickeningly polite. 

“Would you mind putting it on, just for me?” 

[bluemoon-fever]

be my valentine | a. levinson

MINORS DNI

pairing: hades!ari levinson x persephone!fem!reader

word count: 900

warnings: greek mythology themes, fluff, angst (very light, ari just doesn't want his love down), pet names, implied smut

A/N: happy valentine's day! enjoy this quick little drabble about hades!ari and his queen. i love these two and want to write more about them! <3

What does the God of the Dead give the Goddess of Springtime for Valentine’s Day?

Ari stands inside a lingerie store, looking at the array of beautiful negligees, teddies, and other lingerie sets. He knew you would look stunning in all of them and imagined you in every piece. But it just wasn’t right for you.

He wasn’t alone looking for gifts for their beloved. He saw boyfriends, girlfriends, and partners analyzing the same pieces he looked at for you. They all had the look of confusion and anxiety. Valentine’s Day was only two days away.

Ari felt bad for being last minute. He had last minute duties in the Underworld, and by the time he returned, he forgot all about the human holiday. You were excited, telling him how happy you were to have dinner and give him his gift. Ari panicked as soon as you said the words.

He called the Goddess of Love, asking her for advice. Her first recommendations were flowers and lingerie. Flowers were out of the question. You were the Goddess of Vegetation; you could make a new species of flowers if you wanted. Lingerie seemed like a fair option. You mentioned how you wished you had something more. It was still hard getting from under your mother’s grip even after she found out you reunited.

Ari settled on a black lingerie set embroidered with flowers and lace. But Ari still felt like it wasn’t enough. He reached out to Aphrodite again who recommended stuffed animals. Rather than get you a stuffed bear, he settled on a stuffed bear that resembles Cerberus, something he knew you would love.

However, it still didn’t feel like enough, and he truly wanted to make your first Valentine’s Day since you reunited special. Asking your mother was completely out of the question who he believed was still trying to plot to separate you. He settled on one final gift, hoping it would be enough.

That night at dinner, you looked absolutely delightful. You wore a deep red dress that clung perfectly to your curves. Ari wanted you then and there right now, but insisted you ate dinner first.

“Can’t you be my dinner instead?” he asked.

“I spent all evening preparing this dinner for us. We can’t let it go to waste!“

You pulled out a bottle of pomegranate wine, gifted by Dionysus, and poured yourself and Ari a glass. You and Ari enjoyed your meal, you making hints at his gift and Ari growing more anxious at how you would feel about yours. After finishing dinner, you brought him to your living room where you prepared for gift-giving.

“I’ll go first!” you insisted. You handed Ari a small black velvet box, smiling excitedly. Ari opened the box to see a golden chain with an oval locket. “Open it!”

Ari opened the locket and saw a picture of you and him. “Whenever we’re apart, click on this locket and you’ll feel me with you, and I will as well.” You showed off your neck to reveal your matching locket.

“Baby, this is beautiful. Thank you,” Ari said, pulling you into a tight embrace and brushing his lips against yours. He put the necklace on and smiled. Now, he had you with him at all times and he couldn’t be happier.

But his happiness was overshadowed by his anxiety. He got up and headed to get your gifts. When he walked out, you had a big smile on your face. You could detect the hesitation in him and got up quickly. “Ari, what’s wrong?”

“I just really want you to like your gift, my love,” Ari said. He handed you the large box that was your gift and watched you nervously as you opened them. You grew excited at seeing your stuffed animal of Cerberus. Before you could open your box of lingerie, you picked up the card that Ari wanted you to read after everything.

Ari watched you carefully as you read your card. large box that was your gift. You grew excited over your stuffed animal of Cerberus. Before you opened your box of lingerie, you opened the card Ari wanted you to read after everything.

Ari watched you carefully as you read the card. He expected you to look the slightest bit dissatisfied, but instead, a giant smile grew on your face.

“Ari,” you began. “It doesn’t matter what you get me, I’ll love it regardless.”

“But you deserve the world, and I can’t give you that. For that, I’m sorry,” he told you. “I hope this will suffice.”

Ari handed you a card. It was a picture of an empty field in the Underworld, sectioned off for some time. Ari wasn’t sure what to do, but he figured you would take the space and make it beautiful as you did with all things.

“Is this for me?”

“Yes. I want you to put your touches on the Underworld since it is our place.” You smiled and pulled Ari’s lips against yours. Your kiss grew more passionate, and you began to rub your body against his, desperate to become one with him. “Wait, my love, you have one more gift.”

“I know about the lingerie, my sweetheart. I snuck and put it on while you were in the shower,” you told playfully, nibbling at his lip. “Now, what did you say earlier about me being your dinner?”

happy valentine’s day! <3

[thexanwillshine]

a;lskfjdk

Author: thexanwillshine (twitter, ao3) Pairings: Levi x Hange Cross-Postings: AO3 Notes: made for Day 2: Confessions of Levihan Week 2021

“But Levi,” Hange whines as she slumps her head on the back of her sofa and closes her eyes. “Kissing scenes are so tricky to write.”

Perhaps it’s the fact that it’s almost 5:30 in the morning. It could also be because he's tired from lack of sleep. Whatever the case, Levi Ackerman’s filter completely disappears when he asks, “Do you need a demonstration?”

Levi Ackerman can argue that every writer he’s met is always a little bit more eccentric than the average person, but no one proves his theory more than Hange Zoë.

Hange wakes him up in the middle of the night, voice screeching on the phone in her excitement. He responds groggily—as one does when their sleep is disturbed at an ungodly hour by an overly-excited author who acts as if they’ve just found out the answers to the universe—and tries to keep himself sober enough to understand what in the goddamn fuck Hange was talking about this time.

“Levaaiiii,” she says, drawling out his name in a manner that was both annoying and endearing, “I’ve figured it out!”

He can almost imagine the look on her face: starry-eyed in her joy, mouth stretched wide into a grin, fingers shaking as she bounces in glee, shifting her weight from the heels of her feet to the tips of her toes . . .

And Levi exhales in both relief and the tiniest hint of delight, because this is exactly how he wants Hange to be: happy .

Nevertheless, he replies “Figured what out?” snarkily.

Hange’s response comes out quickly, as if she needed to say everything that had to be said in the span of five seconds or less. “So you know how I’ve been trying to write a fiction novel because I wanted to get out of my comfort zone?”

Levi hums in acknowledgement as he fixes the covers over his legs before turning on his bedside lamp. He leans back on the bed frame and closes his eyes to listen to her ramble.

“So I was thinking, I wanted to write a romance novel, because you know how people fall in love and stuff?”

“No Hange, I’ve never heard of that concept in my entire life,” Levi says in a deadpan voice.

Hange laughs, because of course she would know that’s his pathetic attempt at lighthearted conversation. Levi is glad that she knows him better than most people, and it is this sense of familiarity that made him feel particularly comfortable when graced with her presence.

“Just because you’ve never fallen in love before doesn’t mean it’s not real, Levi!” Hange tells him in jest.

Wrong, Levi thinks.

“After all, you’ve probably never wanted to kiss someone your entire life!”

Wrong, Levi thinks.

“Sure, Hange.”

He rolls his eyes at her teasing, because yes, Levi has fallen in love—and maybe, just maybe, he’s still on the road to understanding what it meant to treasure someone far more than just a regular friend.

He shakes off such thoughts before maneuvering Hange back to the initial reason why she had called. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

“I finished,” she proclaims on the phone, her voice proud, “I finished writing the first ten chapters.”

Levi blinks in confusion before sitting straight up, the information processing in his mind that was still a bit drunk with sleep. “You what?” “I couldn’t stop writing,” Hange told him sheepishly, detecting the slightest hint of concern in her editor’s voice, “I’ve been writing for the past 24 or so hours. Maybe more.”

Levi grunts in annoyance, pulling the covers away from his body and jumping out of his unmade bed. He runs a hand through his dark locks, sighing. “Four-eyes, you need to get some sleep.”

“But Levi,” Hange says in protest, “I need you to read my draft. There are some parts I just don’t think are super natural.”

“And I was sleeping like a regular human being,” Levi retorted as he shrugged off his shorts. After that, he put on jeans that he had recently washed before patting down the shirt he was wearing in a pathetic attempt to get rid of the wrinkles that had accumulated while he tossed and turned in bed.

“Oh my gosh, Levi, I didn’t realize the time!” Hange replies, and he can almost feel her guilt starting to set in. “You should go back to sleep,” she immediately adds. “Take care of yourself!”

Levi slips on his rubber shoes and grabs his umbrella before answering. “Coming from you? Not that credible.”

Hange laughs light-heartedly, and his heart flutters just a tiny bit. Levi pushes the feeling away almost as quickly as it had come.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, almost dreading the reply.

There was none.

“Hange,” he calls, but there’s still no response. “Hange. Answer me,” he says firmly, prodding her on. “Have you eaten?”

The laughter that comes out from the other end is nervous. “Woops.”

Levi sighs. He opens his car door and slips inside smoothly, grabbing his keys from his pocket and starting the engine. “Hange, you’re supposed to eat.”

“Sorry,” she tells him honestly. “I really didn’t want to ruin my momentum. I can’t believe I forgot.” She mumbles her second sentence, sounding almost deep in thought. “I’ll go find food now! Want me to email you the working draft? You can look at it in the morning when you wake up.”

“No need,” Levi tells her, placing his phone on his dashboard and accelerating his car. “I’m on the way.”

“Levi!” Hange exclaimed excitedly as she heard her doorbell ring at around four in the morning.

She rushes to the door in delight, opening it to reveal Levi standing in front of her, a paper bag in his hand and a jacket half-heartedly slung over his shoulder.

“Hi,” he greets calmly, before walking inside and letting himself in.

Inwardly, Hange thanks whatever god is out there for her foresight. Her unit was relatively clean since she hadn’t really done anything since Levi’s last visit. The place seemed to pass Levi’s health protocols, since he sat on her couch and placed the paper bag on the table right across from him.

“Eat,” he tells her, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hange grins, before plopping down beside him and opening the paper bag. “What did you get me?”

“You’ll see.”

She raises an eyebrow at his ambiguity, before taking a glimpse inside the paper bag.

The smell of quesadillas immediately fills the room, and Hange lets out a soft squeal, taking out the food from the bag quickly.

“Oh my gosh,” Hange says as she nudges him on the shoulder. “You also got me onion rings! You know me too well, Levi.”

“Unfortunately,” Levi responds sarcastically, and Hange laughs almost automatically.

As Hange hums in glee, picking apart the paper wrapped around the food items, Levi maintains his silence. They stay like that as Hange eats. Every so often, she would comment about how the amount of cheese was perfect and how the onion rings just about melted in her mouth. Levi alternates between watching her eat and scrolls through his phone placidly.

Soon, he chooses to break the silence. “So where’s your draft?”

Hange is munching on her last piece of quesadilla when she glances in his direction. “Oh, it’s on my laptop! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you, this food was just so good.”

Levi stands up and heads on over to Hange’s room, gently pushing the door open and scanning the area for her laptop. On top of her unmade bed was a half open Macbook Pro, which he gently took before returning to his seat beside Hange.

Without hesitation, Levi opens the laptop and inputs the password. For some reason, Hange made it his birthday—1225—because she claimed that no one would guess such a random date. He is greeted with a blaring Google Docs document entitled “a;lskfjdk.”

“Nice title you got there,” he comments, and Hange chuckles.

“I didn’t want to think of a title yet, okay!” Hange pouts, and Levi nudges her foot gently in an attempt to comfort her from his own teasing.

He scans the document first before reading it. Hange is a good writer, but fiction is an entirely new genre for her. Immediately, he notices common habits from writing research papers leak into her new work: overexplaining, using words that are too formal for her target audience, sentences a little bit void from emotion.

He takes note of these comments on her notes app before going over her draft again, this time more meticulously than he had done previously. During this time, Hange finishes eating, wraps her trash and tosses them all inside the paper bag before standing up and dumping the entire thing inside her garbage bin.

“Levi,” she calls as she washes her hands through the sink faucet. Levi gives her the smallest hint that he’s listening by raising his eyebrow, but he doesn’t take his gaze away from her laptop. “I’m going to take a shower,” she announces, and he waves his hand dismissively.

Hange smiles to herself. Levi is always nagging her whenever she would accidentally hyperfixate on her writing, but he acts the same way when reading her works.

When Hange stepped inside the shower, Levi was already conducting a deep dive in her third chapter. The gears in his head slowly begin to turn as he begins to analyze her work.

The story revolved around the tales of the people who went to the clinic. The first chapter was a brief introduction on who the main characters were: There’s Janelle, a bright-eyed psychologist whose passion influenced the people around her. Together with El and Bea, her trusted assistants studying under her guidance, they would aid the people who went to the Hopiatria Clinic seeking care.

Meanwhile, the second chapter featured a child who felt as if she was being blamed for the death of her mother by her father. Her mother had died in a plane crash shortly after the young girl wished that her mom could go home on her sixth birthday. Janelle talks to the child gently while El and Bea provide emotional support, offering the child toys and biscuits whenever the need arises.

The third chapter was trickier, and it was there that Levi noticed a twist in Hange’s writing. The story revolved around a boy busy getting her doctorate, and a young girl who had been in love with him ever since they were in college. It’s the young girl who comes to Janelle’s office, and she relays the tale of her unrequited childhood romance to the psychologist.

The young girl is passionate, and wanted to take a step forward in order to guide her towards falling out of love with her best friend. Janelle presents two suggestions: (1) confession, while being fully-open to the possibility of rejection, and (2) accepting rejection without confession. The young girl decides to go with the first option, but to her surprise, the boy returns her feelings.

Everything seemed well-written up until the end of the chapter, where Hange had written,

And then they kissed.

Levi scrolled down the page, tilting his head to the side in slight confusion. That’s it? He thought, trying to find the rest.

Everything had been so well-described; from the girl’s internal turmoil—caused by her fear of destroying their friendship and the pain that came with unrequited love—to the boy confessing his own emotions for her.

The ending was anticlimactic, to say the least.

As he blinked at the google document in confusion, already typing out his comment on her notes app, Hange emerged from the bathroom. Her hair was loose on her shoulders, wet from her shower. Wrapped around her waist is his bathrobe, which she had borrowed from him long ago and never bothered to return it.

Levi scoffs as he glances in her direction. Here she was, parading with the cloth on and rubbing that specific fact in his face.

“Hey,” Hange greeted, smiling as she ran a hand through her brown locks, “How’s the reading going?”

“It was okay until the third chapter,” Levi says honestly, pointing the laptop screen in her direction. “The ending’s anticlimactic.”

Hange hummed, pursing her lips together. “Yeah. I didn’t really know how to end it,” she tells him as she opens her cabinet and grabs a few pieces of clothing. “Give me a bit, I’m going to change.”

She disappears into her room and Levi focuses on her story, trying to think of a way to spur Hange on and perhaps actively improve the ending’s writing.

Hange emerges in a loose t-shirt (which was, once again, his) and shorts. She sits down right beside him, leaning over his shoulder to glance at her laptop and read the specific line that particularly irked Levi.

“It’s that one, right?” Hange asks, pointing at the last sentence. “And then they kissed.”

“Yeah,” Levi responds, shaking his head. “Everything was so well-written up ‘till that point. You were able to describe the emotions perfectly, and the narration’s not that bad . . save for a few paragraphs that maybe should’ve stayed in your research papers.”

Hange chuckles. “Old habits die hard,” she responds, before taking her Macbook from his lap and transferring it to hers. “So what should I write?”

Levi shrugs. “I’m just your editor. You’re the writer.”

Hange pouts. “Yeah, but I don’t know how to make this better.”

“Maybe describe the scene more,” Levi suggests. “Everything ended so abruptly. Every emotion you’ve created and built disappeared in that one line.”

She nods in agreement. “But Levi,” Hange whines as she slumps her head on the back of her sofa and closes her eyes. “Kissing scenes are so tricky to write.”

Perhaps it’s the fact that it’s almost 5:30 in the morning. It could also be because he's tired from lack of sleep. Whatever the case, Levi Ackerman’s filter completely disappears when he asks, “Do you need a demonstration?”

Hange’s eyes shoot open immediately, and Levi’s face turns red just as quickly.

“F-Forget it,” he says, interrupting her just when he saw Hange open her mouth to speak. Any semblance of calm in his body disappears immediately, and his heart starts pounding against his chest in a rhythm that reminds him too much of a beating drum.

Hange, however, looks elated.

“You want to kiss me?” she tells him in excitement, blinking at him. “I’d like that. It could help me write this scene, you know.”

Levi looks away. “It was just a spur of the moment question.”

“So, you’re not going to kiss me?”

He actively avoids her gaze because he can already see from his peripheral vision that she looks sad, disappointed even. He grunts in response, closing his eyes and focusing his attention on a random spot on the wall.

“Oh,” Hange replies, “Well, I thought it was a good idea.”

Contrary to popular belief, Levi does want to kiss Hange. More than anything.

There were many reasons why: Because she looks so handsome and beautiful at the same time, and her very smile could light up any room she’d walk into. Because she says his name in the most endearing way. Because she understands his flaws. Because she has one of the kindest hearts he’s ever seen. Because she welcomes him with open arms, not a single thread of hesitation in her mind.

Most of all, it was simply because she was Hange.

He steals a glance in her direction, and she’s slightly fiddling with the hem of his shirt, her head downcast. Her sad expression tugs at hi

Levi thinks he’s already in this too deep, so he decides to speak.

“Did you want me to kiss you?”

From his periphery, he sees her look up at him so quickly he thought her neck would break. “What would you do if I said yes?”

He doesn’t dare turn his head in her direction when he replies quietly, “What do you think?”

“Would you kiss me?” Hange asks inquisitively, tilting her head to the side.

Levi’s heart skips a beat.

“Maybe,” he says in a voice barely above a whisper. “If you’d let me.”

Hange is silent for a moment, and Levi thinks this is it, I’m going to be rejected, but he feels a gentle finger touch his chin and turn his head in Hange’s direction.

He is met with her brown orbs, shining just a bit in what seemed like hidden glee. He cocks an eyebrow at her then, confused.

“I’m letting you,” Hange says, laughing. “Kiss me, I mean.” Her face is already slowly nearing his, and he can almost see the way her thick lashes brushed against her skin.

Slowly, Levi raises his head just a tiny bit and responds against her lips, “Okay.”

Hange smiles and closes the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck as he does the same around her waist. She tastes like the peppermint of her toothpaste, smells like his shampoo (which he had kept in her apartment since he always found himself staying over), and felt warm as her skin made contact with his. Hange's lips are gentle, slow, and a little shy—so different from how she usually is. Levi knows it’s because she doesn’t want to scare him off, so he makes the first move and nips at her lower lip, taking it between his teeth and sucking it gently.

She lets out a moan, and Levi takes this as a sign to continue. He slides his hand over her back, and she shudders and deepens the kiss at the same time. Her tongue meets his, and they battle for dominance. Hange’s hand sweeps over his undercut and pushes him towards him, and it is then that he lets out a sound that vaguely resembles pleasure.

After a few minutes, Hange whispers “Levi,” as her lips make contact with his. He hums in response, pulling his lips away from her and connecting his forehead with hers.

“Hange,” he says, breathless.

“Is this you telling me you like me?” Hange asks, closing her eyes.

He doesn’t form a reply through words, but he nods and closes his eyes as well.

“Great,” Hange tells him, pecking his lips with her own. “Because I like you too. Ever since I met you, I’ve liked you. Even though you were so rude to me on the first day of college.”

He chuckles silently in relief, pulling her closer to him before placing his chin on her shoulder. “Think you’ll be able to write the ending now that you know what a kiss feels like?”

Hange laughs, and it vibrates against his shoulder as she hugs him tighter. “It’s exhilarating. I probably wouldn’t be able to put into words how good I feel that you like me back.”

“Try,” Levi teases.

“Well . . . you know that alternative title I wrote for the fictional novel?”

Levi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “The keyboard smash?”

Hange nods. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I feel like right now.”

a;lskfjdk.

[brewedlove]

Love Letters

Series/Fandom: Coffee Talk

Character (x reader): Freya, Lua, Baileys

Relationship to Reader: Romantic

Reader Specifications: None

Word Count: 821

Warnings: None

Requested: No

A/N: I know Lua and Baileys are canonically in a relationship. Either think of this as they’re not, make it polyamorous, or ignore it. The lack of Coffee Talk content on here makes me sad so I’ll contribute to it despite the little information to go off of from everyone but I did my best to keep them in character. If the creators of the game doesn’t want me to write about them, just let me know because.. Yeah. Once again, the Reader’s gender, sex, nationality, ethnicity, and species/race are unspecified so I think everyone should be free to read.

UPDATED A/N: If you recognize this piece on a different blog under the name @iwritesinsandsins it’s because Tumblr silenced all my posts there so I’m starting over again. (／ˍ・、)

~

Gently sliding the paper over the smooth counter, the barista dodges questions that could reveal your identity as you had requested, leaving the sender of the note anonymous. Instead, they encourage the recipient to read it, carefully observing their reaction to the love letter.

Freya

Freya thought it was a prank at first but as a writer, she can recognize genuine words and raw emotion when she sees it so she knows that the love letter is real.

She phrases her questions towards the barista in a certain way that’s meant to get them to unintentionally leak information, hoping that her skill would help her figure out the sender.

Unfortunately, the barista is all too familiar with how Freya works and not even a hint is given aside from the note itself which leads her to go into a detective mode.

Whenever she’s free, she tries to visit Coffee Talk as soon as they open and will stay until closing, analyzing and talking to each patron.

When she narrows down everyone else, her mind is certain that it’s you.

She’s pretty bold and may oh so casually mention a letter that was given to her by an anonymous writer.

Once she is able to confirm that it’s you, laughter shakes her body but she’s not laughing at you; she’s laughing because it was fun for her to try and figure out which patron did it like a detective.

Freya genuinely thinks that the love letter is sweet and compliments your writing, going into depth about the aspects that she loves about it and may nonchalantly slip in a compliment or two about you.

With a giddy grin, she’ll invite you to meet up at Coffee Talk tomorrow night - it’s a date.

Lua

The corner of Lua’s lips pulled up into a bashful smile while she reads the letter but is disappointed when the barista won’t tell her who wrote it

She can respect that, though once she learns that the writer wished for their identity to remain anonymous.

While she doesn’t push for more information, she does ask the barista to give them her thanks whenever they see them again.

Lua keeps the note safe at home in a secret little compartment and sometimes looks back on it and lets herself feel that warmth inside of her as she rereads it over and over again.

Admittedly, there’s a part of her that is nervous about the whole thing; she has a fear that her secret admirer is actually just someone toying with or making fun of her.

Though just as she has her doubts, she also carries hope in the emotions expressed in the love letters as she slowly grows to reciprocate the same feelings.

To keep her interest, you must continue to leave her letters to the point where she begins to prolong her visits at the shop in hopes to catch whoever has been sending her these sweet messages.

One night, she overheard you talking with the barista and recognized the familiar speech pattern and your choice of words before she carefully approached you and ended up being pulled into the conversation.

Lua isn’t completely sure if it was you or not but with time, she slowly confirms her suspicions and knows that it was really you that captured her heart.

Baileys

Baileys’ got a playful smile on his face once he finishes reading the note and asks the barista if they were the one that wrote it to which they deny.

When he learns that the writer wishes to keep their identity a secret, he sighs, “Guess it can’t be helped, huh?” but he’s not disappointed in the slightest.

He keeps the note in his pocket and whenever he can, he’ll pull it out to analyze the writing to see if he can recognize it as anyone that he knows.

The barista will begin to see him around the shop more often and he makes it blatantly obvious; it’s clear that he wants to find the person.

Whenever he’s there, he’ll chat up the barista or will subtly manage to slip into conversations with other patrons, trying to pull out hints from them since he naturally has a way with words.

Baileys thrives off the mystery and the barista has told you about how excited he gets upon receiving another letter despite his cool exterior.

At this point, he’s really hoping that this isn’t just someone toying with him and that these words of confession are real because now he’s fallen for this anonymous person, too.

It isn’t until he finds himself talking to you that he’s certain you’re his secret admirer and is trying to impress you with his skills and knowledge and maybe cracking a few jokes.

Baileys is obvious about his interest and will offer to help you with anything, even if it’s not in his field or he’ll invite you out somewhere next time you’re both free.

[catintheruemorgue]

poe x reader

summary: you and poe have a daughter. its just you spending the morning together. 

warnings: none but it is a f! reader

word count: 1k

sometimes i feel like i dont exist. like i have no identity and people have a way of making it worse. i dont think ill be posting for awhile or i might delete this blog. this fic is 100% a pure comfort fic. enjoy.

You were awoken by the sound of your door handle jiggling. When you peaked open an eye you saw your five year old daughter carrying Karl towards your bed. You turned your neck to see your still sleeping husband. Poe looked adorable. One of his arms was secure around your waist and his cheek was squished against the pillow. Soft puffs of air came from his mouth that was slightly open. The man's peaceful rest was disrupted when your daughter placed your pet raccoon on the bed and then crawled up right behind. She jumped onto Poe which caused him to groan out as he wished for a few more minutes of rest. Your daughter moved her face to be real close to his and she moved the hair out of his face.

“Daddy wake up!” She had a smile on her face despite her demanding tone.

Karl came and curled up on your lap, clearly not ready to get up himself. You pet the critter as you watched Poe groan and lightly push her off of him so he could get up. Your daughter fell back but just as fast got up again. Her small hands tried to push her bangs out of her face but failed. You let out a snort.

“Lenore, you're starting to look like your father. We're gonna have to cut your bangs today.” She let out a noise of protest.

Your daughter, Lenore, was obsessed with her father. She always wanted to hang out with him or talk to him, she really was his little mini me but you didn’t mind, it was too cute. Poe leaned over and gave you a kiss on your cheek as the small Poe became preoccupied with Karl. After saying good morning to each other and giving a ton of quick kisses he got up.

“Come on sweetheart, want to make your mother breakfast?” He held his hand out for her to take. Before she did though she grabbed her furry companion.

“Yes! Come along Karl.” Poe cringed at how she was holding onto him and grabbed him allowing him to jump onto his shoulders. 

You smiled as they left the room. Your wonderful husband always gave you extra time in the morning. Lenore was getting older and becoming quite energetic in her own, Edgar Allan Poe’s daughter type way. You let yourself rest for a bit more before she stormed into your room telling you that breakfast was ready. 

When you got into the kitchen Lenore was already shoving food into her mouth. You gave Poe a kiss on his cheek and thanked him as you went to grab yours. The three of you ate while your child went on about anything she could think of. She was already very imaginative. You brought all three of your plates to the sink and asked Lenore to stay seated so you could cut her bangs. She whined and you almost thought she was about to cry until she actually spoke words.

“Can daddy and I continue our mystery book?” She tried to push her bangs out of her eyes to look at you again.

Your daughter was hilarious. She didn't want to cut her hair but it was obviously bothering her. Also due to your husband's speech patterns she tended to talk more formally, you didn't even think she knew what she was saying sometimes.  You laughed so hard once you fell because she told you she was in ‘despair’ because she couldn't find her favorite toy. Poe was right there with you but has more of ‘this is perfectly normal for a five year old to say this’ mentality.

“Yes we can!” Poe spoke up while you nodded.

He loved writing with her and he hit that jackpot because she already showed signs of having an interest in writing. They were working on a mystery book together about a little girl and her sidekick raccoon. The two detectives were trying to figure out who committed the despicable crime of eating the last cookie, little did they know the culprit was one of them! The culprit just so happened to be the little girl's furry friend- Poe came up with that part. It was quite the thriller. 

They would sit together and he would write everything while Lenore just said whatever came to mind. It was adorable watching them work together and sometimes they would drag you in to help. Poe missed writing his dark and complex mysteries but it was a nice change to write more light hearted ones. It was just the price of having a kid but that didn't mean he stopped writing, oh no. He’d write you a lot of emotional and romantic poems about how much he loved you. You'd always find them on your pillow or your car and they always made you tear up.

You grabbed the scissors and walked up to your daughter who just stared up at you. You let out a laugh. It was beginning to be unnerving how much Lenore looked like Poe. Her dark brown hair, the bangs covering her eyes, her blank yet innocent face as she analyzed your every move… You shuddered. There was one thing that could fix that! You snipped her bangs and revealed her eyes.

“There are those gorgeous peepers!” You pinched her cheeks affectionately and she began to giggle.

Lenore realized she was done and hopped off the chair toward her dad, who she almost knocked over from an abrupt hug. She grabbed his hand before dragging him away. He begged her to slow down but she just wouldn't. You shook your head with a smile on your face and began to clean up the kitchen.

Their voices carried all the way from his study to the kitchen. You could hear her rambling and him countering or agreeing with some of the stuff she said. Karl jumped up onto the counter and you scratched behind his ears. As he began to puur you couldn't help but feel calm. You were lucky to have such a perfect little family. The only thing that pulled you out of your thoughts was your daughter yelling for you.

“Mommy! Daddy and I need your help!” 

You grabbed Karl before making your way toward the two loves of your life. The only thought in your head was that this must be what Heaven is like. 

[therealvinelle]

I agree that Aro definitely is not straight, but if he is gay and not bi, why window shop for a wife? If he wanted a partner for some reason, why not find a male one? It was a different era, yes, but are vampires really homophobic?

So, for this meta, we’ll have to get historical. Before we do, keep in mind that while I know Ancient Greece better than most, having studied it (introductory level classes only, mind), I don’t know it well enough to be any kind of authority on the matter. History, more than any other discipline I can think of, is not respected as an academic field, and people with poor to no understanding of historical hermeneutics will make very bold assumptions that they then have too poor understanding of history to realize are bullshit. This is a disclaimer because I don’t want to join in on the chorus of authoritative-sounding people on the internet with no verifiable credentials who spout things about history that are then taken to be gospel truth by readers because the author made it sound good.

More, I say this because your question is asking me to explain the morality and social norms surrounding a character from 14th century BC Greece. And this man would not, for the record have been Ancient Greek, he would have been Mycenaean Greek. Very quick history lesson: Mycenaean Greece was a flourishing society that suffered a downfall, Greek civilization fell into its very own dark ages, until around 800 BC when Greeks began forming what would become the Ancient Greece we know and love. This in turn means that I can’t very well read up on the marital and sexual norms of Ancient Greece when I’m researching for Aro, because he was five hundred years old already when Ancient Greece became a thing.

And your question concerns cultural history. And for that we’re going to have to look at how we know the things we know about history. How history is studied.

Historians have two kinds of sources: archeological findings and written records. (I’m aware that oral tradition, like the one carried by the Aborigine people, isn’t technically one of these, but to my understanding it’ll be treated to similar analysis as written records, which leaves us with the two types of sources standing strong.) These sources are analyzed, and we apply various theories and models onto them to make sense of the context they were written in. The more sources we have, the more we can refine or eliminate these theories or models.

More, history is an ever evolving field. There are movements and schools of thought that influence how history is written (marxism in history, that is, history as a class struggle, was heavy in the 60′s and I think until the 80′s), which means that how a certain culture will be perceived today is not the way it was perceived a few decades ago, nor will it be perceived the same way a few decades in the future.

You see why I am daunted by you asking me to give you an answer about sexual and marital norms for a guy who lived 3000 years ago, and I hope you’ll understand why I feel this word vomit is necessary.

Now, the danger with Mycenaean Greece is that it’s a society it’s easy to feel we know a lot about, because it was the precursor to Ancient Greece, and we know a lot about the latter. But, first of, the reason why we know as much as we do about the Ancient Greeks is the Romans. The Greeks wrote about their history, their philosophy, their government, and they wrote plays and told stories. However, that was two thousand years ago and their writings would have been lost to the sands of time if the Romans hadn’t idolized and sought to emulate their society. This meant preserving their written records. This tradition was carried on by the Christians, in part because Hellenistic philosophy was incorporated into Christian philosophy. We have neo-platonism to thank for Christian asceticism, the “mind over matter” cornerstone.

What I’m getting at with all of this is that we know the insane amount about Ancient Greece that we do because of some very unique circumstances, and so we can make very sophisticated theories about what the Hellenistic world was like. It’s still detective work, but not Pepe Silvia type of detective work. This is not the case for Mycenaean Greece. We know a comparative lot about Mycenaean Greece, considering how long ago it was, but there is very much we don’t know.

With Mycenaean Greece, we are dealing with a lot more uncertainty. We haven’t deciphered one of their two writing styles, and a lot of the text we do have is very fragmentary. Coming up with detailed societal models for Mycenaean Greece, and for the 14th century BC specifically, is... well I don’t know enough about what this society left behind to know what historians have to work with, but I imagine they have their work cut out.

More, I haven’t studied this at all, which means that any attempt on my end to research this would be stumbling around in the dark.

One example: the Illiad and the Odyssey, while composed around the 8th century BC, were set in the early 12th century BC, which is nearly Aro’s time period. The Illiad depicts a homoerotic relationship between Patroclus and Achilles, and both works depict a lot of matrimonies, so I wish I could use it as a source. However, not only would this time gap alone make these sources questionable, but there’s also the matter of the Illiad and the Odyssey being transmitted orally, from bard to bard. Changes were made over the years. For example, the technology described in the Illiad is from several eras, as the warriors will be using bronze weaponry in one book and then switch to iron in the next. This game of telephone is what happens when a story is transmitted orally from person to person. So, while it’s tempting to use these works as a sort of reference point, the possibility, likelihood even, that the bards made adjustments to keep the old story entertaining for their contemporary audience is strong.

For this reason, I can’t give you any kind of historically correct analysis on what the marital or sexual mores would have been like in Aro’s time. Even if the knowledge is out there, I don’t have it.

But I can say this, spouses have for the longest time been partners. Men and women got married, even in the gay, gay, Ancient Greece, not just to have children but because they complemented each other, they were partners. Men needs wives, and women needs husbands. And a partner was canonically exactly what Aro was looking for, feelings had nothing to do with it:

After Caius and Marcus had found their romantic attachments, Aro decided to find his own, although rather than finding his other half in another vampire Aro decided to create his own instead. Aro had a certain type of woman in mind and he found what he was looking for in Sulpicia. He successfully courted her and she came to fall in love with him.

As for vampires being homophobic, I think that is for another post about what culture they bring with them into their new life. But to be brief I’ll say that while the individual vampire can be homophobic, there can be no homophobia at an institutional level because vampires have no institutions. And it’s the institutional homophobia that gets ya. It’s what the whole fight for gay rights has been about: secure legislation against discrimination and that protects gay people. (The right to marry and protection from employees firing LGBT employees comes to mind as examples of this.)

So, no one could force Aro to marry a woman. 

And I’d go into a rant here about how the prospect of gay marriage, of even identifying as homosexual (the labels homosexual, bisexual, and heterosexual are very new and, to my recollection, were born off of the Western psychiatric discipline as men who slept with other men were diagnosed with homosexuality. I imagine a man from the Antiquity would be confused at the notion that just because he likes to sleep with dudes he shouldn’t get married to a woman), was unthinkable up until very recently, but I just made this obscenely long rant about how I can’t really make these kinds of guesses, so I’m not gonna.

I think being married to a woman and then banging hot dudes who came along suited Aro just fine.

Also, I can’t believe I’m doing this, but - I’m going to encourage history asks. Because this fandom has a bit of a history problem, as a lot of the characters are from different time periods and many feel unsatisfied with the way Meyer handled that. I am by no means a historian, but I know several of the historical periods the characters of Twilight are from well enough to make educated guesses.

So, hit me with your worst.

[five-rivers]

Oh God, imagine the social media reaction to tinyMight, the feral adorable badass. Imagine his bullies and unfortunate small-time villains from 40+ years ago finding out who they tried to beat up. Imagine those few who have seen Yagi but don't know he's All Might wondering if skeleton man is All Might's twin or something. Imagine the shenanigans if the de-aging takes longer to undo. Interactions with Gran, Izuku, the other teachers.

Sequel to this.

.

Toshinori felt his smile grow progressively more fixed the longer the detective stared at him with that haunted expression. Was he in some kind of trouble? It sounded as if the villain had swapped him for another rookie hero, one named All Might (cool name!), but that shouldn't be Toshinori's responsibility. Maybe the quirk also linked them, somehow? That would explain why the villains had been trying to kill him, and why the banana hero- Present Mic didn't want him to leave. On the other hand...

Oh, he should just ask. That would be easier.

He opened his mouth to do just that when the detective spoke instead.

"This is going to be so much paperwork," he said.

"I'm sorry?" said Toshinori.

"Yagi," continued the detective, "I love you like a brother, but ever since I met you, my paperwork load has tripled. Tripled."

"I've only just met you?"

If possible, the detective looked even more haunted.

Luckily, at this point, Present Mic opened the door to the car and slid into the seat next to the detective. "Thanks for coming, Detective Tsukauchi," he said. "Anyway, we have confirmation on the quirk that did this to you, and, well. It isn't time travel."

"Thank god," said Detective Tsukauchi.

"Um. I thought it was teleportation...?"

"You've been de-aged by about forty years," said Present Mic, all in a rush.

What. What?

The car started up in the silence.

"Are you telling me that I'm in the future? Oh my gosh, that's an amazing quirk."

"No, no, you're in the present. You're not-- It isn't going to send you back to the past when it wears off. You'll just, you know, go back to your normal age."

"Wow. That's still a really cool quirk. Does it have to be forty years, or can he adjust the amount of time? Like, he could use it on people with degenerative mental diseases, give their families one last time with them. Or, or for witness statements! It would be pretty good for a hero, too, you could de-age villains into kids and then they couldn't fight anymore... but maybe it'd be a little unethical... Hmm..."

"You don't seem very, uh, alarmed?" said Present Mic.

"What would I be alarmed about?"

"All of your friends and family being forty years older?" suggested Present Mic.

"Haha, I don't have any of those," said Toshinori, smiling as large as he could and giving the hero two thumbs up.

Present Mic and Detective Tsukauchi just stared at him.

Then Tsukauch turned to Present Mic. "You said it'll wear off? When?"

"Uh. The quirk registry wasn't entirely clear about that. But it does wear off."

"The press is going to be a nightmare," said Tsukauchi, rubbing his face.

"Why?" asked Toshinori.

The hero and detective exchanged another glance. Toshinori could practically hear them mentally screaming you tell him, no, you tell him at each other.

Tsukauchi coughed into his fist. "Well, Toshi- excuse me, Yagi-kun, you're... You've realized those two were trying to kill you?"

"It was... sort of hard not to, honestly," said Toshinori. "Is it because I'm a hero or something?"

"How did you-?"

Toshinori silently pinched the fabric of the overlarge jumpsuit leg between his fingers and raised an eyebrow.

"Right. Well. You're the Number One hero."

"Wow," said Toshinori. It seemed to be something he kept saying, today. "How did I do that without a quirk?"

"What?"

"He's a late bloomer," said Tsukauchi, quickly. "A late bloomer. You're a late bloomer."

"Uh. Okay?"

.

"UA is so cool," said Toshinori, shielding his eyes against the sun as he looked up at the building.

"Haha, yeah," said Tsukauchi.

"Did I really go to school here?"

"You teach here, too!" said Present Mic.

"That's so cool," said Toshinori. "I can't believe I'm going to be a hero for over thirty years. That's like, the longest any hero has ever served."

"There are a couple who've served for longer, now, actually," said Present Mic. "Like Yoroi Musha, Recovery Girl, and Gran Torino."

"Yoroi Musha is still a hero?" asked Toshnori. "Like, actively? That's so long."

The gate behind them beeped, and Toshinori turned around just in time to take the bottom of a boot straight to the face. Needless to say, he fell over.

"Gran Torino!"

"Holy crap! I thought he'd dodge! Toshinori, you idiot, are you alright?"

"Ow," said Toshinori, trying and failing to recognize the voice that was referring to him so familiarly.

"Gran Torino, you really can't go around kicking people like that."

"Yagi-kun? Are you okay? Should we get Recovery Girl?"

Toshinori raised a shaking hand, thumb up. "I think I have a concussion."

.

When they got to the infirmary, it was already occupied by a couple students and... a strange homeless-looking man, but that didn't make sense. Maybe an undercover hero was stopping here for some reason? But why?

The students, one small and green, other with a mix of red and white hair, stared at him openly.

"Oops, sorry," said Present Mic. "Didn't think that anyone would be here before noon."

The homeless man sighed deeply. "Neither did I," he said, "and yet..." He fixed a baleful glare on the two students.

"I-I'm sorry, Aizawa-sensei," squeaked the green one. "I tried to get out of the way of the door, but I didn't want to run into Todoroki-kun, and-"

"It isn't your fault, problem child," said Aizawa with a sigh heavy enough to crush an elephant, who... was a teacher, evidently. Man. Standards for teachers' dress had really fallen in forty years, hadn't they? "The first year support class shouldn't have been doing anything with explosives of that caliber. Anyway, who's-"

"Are you Midoriya-kun's secret brother?" asked the red and white student.

"Who?" asked Toshinori.

"Todoroki-kun! You can't just ask people that!"

"You have to admit, he looks just like your father-"

"All Might is not my father."

"Riiiiiight," said Present Mic, guiding Toshinori to a bed with a hand on his back. "Now, why don't you just relax here while I go get Recovery Girl?"

"Coward," whispered Tsukauchi.

Present Mic shrugged and disappeared.

"So," said Aizawa, exhibiting a well-practiced air of boredom. "Are you related to All Might?"

"Eraserhead-san," said Tsukauchi, through clenched teeth, "may I introduce you to Yagi Toshinori? Yagi-kun, this is Aizawa-san. He's in charge of class 1-A."

Aizawa went pale. "Please tell me it isn't time travel."

"If it was time travel, we would be in an underground bunker or something," said Tsukauchi. "No, it was an age-regression quirk."

The green student inhaled sharply, then let off a small, "Oh."

"Wait," said the red and white student- Todoroki?- narrowing his eyes.

"Don't say it," urged the green haired boy.

"What do you think about quirks, Yagi-san?"

"Quirks are great!" said Toshinori. "I sure wish I-"

"Had a note book to write about them in!" interrupted Tsukauchi, loudly.

Toshinori frowned up at him, confused. What did he say?

Todoroki rubbed his chin with a finger. "To... analyze the quirks in?" he asked.

"Um," said Toshinori. "Yes?"

"See, Midoriya-kun?" said Todoroki, turning to the other boy. "He's just like you. You're the same." He touched his pointer fingers together.

Midoriya, for his part, looked extremely flustered.

"The same," repeated Todoroki. He looked back at Toshinori. "Do you happen to have a brother? A twin, perhaps?"

"Uh, I don't think so? But, then, I was a doorstop baby, so..."

Todoroki nodded sagely. "So you must have reunited with your long lost brother, the skeleton man, later in life-"

"Stop calling him that!" hissed Midoriya, yanking on his friend's uniform jacket.

"I wouldn't have to, if you'd just tell me your uncle's name-"

"He isn't my uncle."

Both Aizawa and Tsukauchi looked like they wanted to die. Or at least be somewhere else.

"Uh," said Toshinori, wanting to change the subject even with his concussion. "What are your quirks, anyway?"

"My quirk is called Half-Hot, Half-Cold," said Todoroki. He raised his hands. "It allows me to make fire from my left side, and ice from my right."

"Oh, neat," said Toshinori. "There must be so many applications like that! I mean, combat is obvious, but it might be even better for rescue work- Lots of casualties in natural disasters are because of exposure, you'd be ideal to counteract that in any weather. Or if a victim is going into shock! Plus, it'd be useful to have in everyday life, if they ever change the public quirk usage law- Did they change that?"

"No," said Aizawa.

"Actually, yes," said Tsukauchi, "but probably not in the way you're thinking..."

"Don't use your quirk in public," said Aizawa.

"You don't have to worry about that, because-"

"Don't use your quirk in public," said Tsukauchi, interrupting again. "Please."

"He does have a hero license, though, so technically-"

"Problem child."

"Sorry."

"Oh, oh, and what's your quirk?"

"Please do not fall out of the bed, To- Yagi-kun," said Tsukauchi.

"I'm not going to," said Toshinori.

"Well," said Midoriya, who had a very complicated expression on his face, "my quirk is, uh, a strength enhancer..."

"Just like yours," said Todoroki, as if he had just made an irrefutable point.

Oh, yeah. Toshinori's older self had a quirk. Maybe that's what Tsukauchi was trying to keep him from talking about? He wished they had told him beforehand if it was some kind of secret.

Also: was Todoroki implying that Midoriya was Toshinori's son? That'd be, like... Wow. If this was forty years in the future, and Midoriya was about the same age as him, that meant he'd had Midoriya when he was forty? Hm. He wasn't sure how to feel about that...

Luckily, before he could start in on a spiral about whether the idea of himself at forty or the idea that he had kids was the thought that was bothering him, Present Mic came back with a little old woman who was, apparently, Recovery Girl.

Wow. Yeah. That was sure a change in... everything. Yep. Really driving home the whole 'forty years in the future' thing. It sure was.

Recovery Girl sighed deeply. "What did you get yourself into this time, Toshinori?"

"Gran Torino kicked him in the head," said Tsukauchi.

"I'm going to skin that man alive one of these days," said Recovery Girl. "But I was talking about the other thing. Although, I suppose that's rather obvious. Do you mind if I heal you, dear? It will probably knock you out for a little bit."

"Sure," said Toshinori, who was beginning to strongly desire an escape from the increasingly awkward conversations around him. "Knock me out. Please."

"Alright, then."

And then she did.

[starshiningsirius]

Dr. Jerkyll and Mr. Hyde (Yandere Leech twins x reader)

An au idea I had came to mind based off @yandere-wishes Victorian twst story and @yandere-romanticaa 's Extraterrestrial story.

I love these two eels and I'm late on their birthday but it's still their birthday for me.

The clear moonlit sky shown brightly over the waters of the ocean. As yet another scream echoed within the streets of a supposedly vacant city.

The detective woke up with a start but not from the scream, but from the ringing of her phone. A report she had been writing stuck to her face from the humid atmosphere. She picked it up getting a few details from Idia, who was panicking on the other side of the line. Considering he worked in the criminal department at the desk and didn't have to see any bodies whatsoever you would think he'd be calm when trying to say what happened.

"Calm down Idia. Tell me what happened?" Her voice was gentle since yelling wouldn't help his nerves.

"Therewasanothermurder! Theyclaimedanothervictim!" He spoke so fast that his words wouldn't be understood by most but she was used to this with him and every word was caught by the detective's ears.

"Where's the crime scene?"

"In front of Sam's shop on Crystal Road, Ms. Y/n L/n." The voice of Idia's younger sibling popped up a contrasting his older brother's cowardly behavior.

He wanted to be just like his older brother so he spent his days in the office with him. Though there were times when Idia tapped out and his brother had to step in.

"Thank you both. I'll head their now." She hung up after hearing a farewell from both brothers.

The candle was long out and she grabbed her gun, notebook, and pen within the darkness, before venturing out the confines of her home.

When she got there a crowd had surrounded one spot in particular.

Cater was already there taking photos of the scene as it was his job being a forensic photographer.

"Hey, hey! Y/n's here, make way!" The crowd parted for her as soon as he announced her presence.

Whispers were muttered as she passed through into the middle of the crime scene. Mostly about how she hadn't caught this killer yet. She ignored them though and went on to meet with her coworker.

"It never ceases to amaze me how your always here first Cater, if anything you should be a suspect." She started off saying to her compatriot.

"Can't help it if I want to stay informed dectective, I just want to stay informed before anyone else." His smile on his face was out of place as he took another photo of the corpse.

"Who was it this time?"

"Such a poor fate to befall dear Monsieur Heart." A new voice joined in the conversation.

"Rook, I see you've arrived but can I get their name please?" The detective said sighing at the theatrics of her friend.

"His name was Ace Trappola, I can't imagine how Monsieur Spade must be feeling about this tragedy." Rook feigned a sorrowful look.

"Oh yeah A-Deuce kun were inseparable, I feel sorry for him. Think he knows already?"

"If there as inseparable as you say Cater then I suppose not, he isn't here yet otherwise I'm sure he'd cause a scene." She noted.

"That doesn't make him a suspect though right? I mean sure he's been a suspect in many crimes before, but Deuce kun far too soft!" Cater was a bit frantic at the thought alone.

"No, I doubt it was him he wouldn't want to disappoint his mother with something as vulgar as murder, he cares for her far too much to do that." That calmed his worries.

"You know I've heard Monsieur Heart have many laments on how his delivery to Roi d' Rose-" Cater didn't let Rook finish.

"RIDDLE?! No way he did this! Have you seen how strict his mother is? Just waltzing in their office and so much as suspecting her son is a one way ticket to hearing her screams! Besides I doubt his mother would even let him out this late anyway, he's always about following the rules set in place for him." Cater says with an imaginary sweat that could have formed to express his fear and anxiety.

"True, and I can't afford another headache from that lady, but we could get some valuable intel from him about Trappola's demeanor the past few days seeing as it may be a pattern in the serial killers motives."

"What about Sam? He's gotta know something considering the murder occurred in front of his shop." Cater's gaze went toward the shop to the right of them.

"Ah the shop keep, a wonderfully eccentric man with many secrets." Rook stated his opinion of him from what he gathered on his own free time.

"Says the French man whose got info on everyone from stalking them on the street." The detective says shaking her head at the strange man next to her who happily smiled at her statement.

"I wouldn't call it that more so getting to know my prey more personally." She sighed hearing his reply.

"A crime analyst such as yourself is such a good cover up!" Cater's response made her sigh once again.

She shook her head toward her coworkers. They took their job in a mild manner but beyond that they did do well to get it done. Even though the means of how they did it were very much questionable in her eyes.

She looked toward the ground seeing the body of the former male right on the cusp of adulthood. His orange hair was a bit disheveled and the looks of shock on his face petrified in time.

"Ah, the dectective is already using those perceptive eyes of hers." Cater's words fell on deaf ears as she was examining the crime scene closely.

"As expected of Reine de la déduction, such dedication in her work. Très bien!"

Their bones were disfigured, just like the last person. No one has this type of strength it didn't make any sense. The only lead that was given but she noticed a glowing substance in his mouth.

"Cater, Rook, I need some confirmation. Out of all the other times these cases have been appearing there weren't any liquid substances to be found beside the occasional blood right?"

"You are correct."

"Yeah, nothing else to be found from what I could see." They both confirmed her suspicion.

She had to go talk to Jade again, but first thing tomorrow she had to interrogate Sam, as well as Riddle Rosenhearts which was sure to be headache on her part.

* * *

His mother was an agitation to say the least. During her entry into his mother's office and upon stating the reason for her entry, Riddle's mother had already hated her the moment she finished speaking. Yelling and hollering about how her son would never commit such a crime even though the dectective never stated he was a suspect in the slightest.

She only asked to question the behavior of Mr.Trappola as of late before he met his end. He was under no suspicion whatsoever but she wasn't having that and kept screeching until her son had to calm her down.

It was much more pleasant afterwards but the headache Y/n had in the early morning just listening to her screeching didn't disappear throughout the whole endeavour.

Just before she bid him farewell he apologized deeply for his mother's behavior with a red face of complete embarrassment. To which she replied it was alright and thanked him for his time. Unfortunately though she had to bear that burden on her own as Rook and Cater had their own jobs to partake in analyzing the other crimes and investigating the trend within the series of murders. It was unfair but that was life. By the time she exited their establishment it was already in the afternoon a little after lunch.

Next was to venture to Sam's shop which was right where the crime had taken place. The body was already removed and taken to forensics, so the only thing left was a broken street lamp.

"Ah, well if isn't the dectective, I believe I already know the pleasure of seeing you here on this fine day," He tipped his hat to her with a smile on his face.

"Afternoon to you too Sam. I would like to acquire any information you have on the murder of Ace Trappola that occurred last night, in front of your establishment."

"Such a shame the little demon, was too young to have bite the dust. But you know as well as I my information comes with a price."

"A thousand madols should suffice a description of what you saw right?" She questioned handing a stack of the paper currency to which he smiled at.

"All I know is that last night was certainly something else. I heard a smash of a lamppost outside my window, up on the second floor. Shop was already closed though. When I looked down I saw what looked to be two silhouettes outside the window. One way taller than the other though, I recognized of Trappola on the ground and something glowed within the hands of the killer, a vial of sorts. He poured it down the throat of the little demon, but Trappola put up a good fight before it was over."

"Over? Can you specify?"

"As in he was left on the ground for dead, it looked like he was choking on whatever was consumed. The killer held him tightly after he realized he was choking. It was similar to a hug but one that was more deadly than a normal one. After he dropped him to the ground and walked away laughing hysterically at who he squeezed."

"And you weren't going to go to the police to inform that you had witnessed the murderer of a serial killer!" Her voice had raised a bit in volume as her agrevated state didn't alleviate since earlier in the day.

"I'm not one to get involved in others private life, Dectective. I've got a business to run." She understood his point though exhaling a sigh through her nose.

"Right. If you want to keep your life you keep your mouth shut. Alright I thank you for the intel." The dectective closed her notebook after writing down many notes on the case.

"Pleasure doing business with ya, Dectective! Best of luck to you as well! You'll be needing it more than anyone." She was only able to hear the first part of it not when his cheery demeanor went away.

She walked out to her final destination of the day, a close friend of hers. His name was Jade Leech, a smart man that excelled in pharmaceuticals just as did Riddle's mother but in a more different sense. His potions were revolutionary with in the subject of alchemy and his botany skills and knowledge made his fame and fortune.

He's helped her on countless cases before, with his expertise in potions it aided in knowing key components to solving head bangers such as this.

As she reached the door of his manor she knocked before waiting a moment or two to see his smile.

"Dectective, how pleasant it is to see you today." He flashed his signature smile toward me, with pearly teeth straight and white.

"It's nice to see you too Jade. May I come in?"

"Your always welcome here, though I must say you do look exhausted how about I put on some tea?" He made way for me to step in.

"You don't have to Jade."

"I insist, naturally I should show good hospitality to all my visitors. Your free to take a seat wherever you like."

"So how are your mushrooms doing?" She said starting up conversation on a favorable topic for him. He was in the kitchen that connected to the empty dining room, that opened the way to the living room where she sat.

"I imagine you didn't come here just to speak on how my mushrooms are doing alone?" He spoke it in the form of a question but he already knew the answer with a knowing smile on his face that she couldn't see but knew he had.

"You are right, my apologies, I actually require your aid with a substance that could be the key in solving the recent serial killings." She watched as he walked in with two plates in hand.

"It's fine, I'm glad you can come to me for help." He served the two plates, one in front of her and the other in front of himself.

They had pasta on both of them with the mushrooms I mentioned. It smelled heavenly. Her stomach growled loudly which caused Jade to laugh lightly.

"I'm assuming you haven't eaten much of anything have you?"

"No I had too much work to do today." She blushed looking away from him.

He sighed making a small 'tsk' noise.

"You have got to take better care of yourself, that dedication of yours is admirable but otherwise you'll drive yourself into an early grave with that sort of work ethic." He chastised.

"Ah, I just don't have the time these days, I'm sorry for all the trouble you have to go through for me." Her eyes traveled toward the food with a slight guilty feeling.

"You speak as if your some sort of burden on me, quite the contrary I worry for your safety and yours alone. You may be a skilled dectective but, I care for your well being first."

Her face grew to an intolerable temperature that would make people think she was sick. She was very much surprised by his words. The first time anyone has ever said anything that endearing to her in a while.

So to ignore the feeling of her heart racing she picked up her plate kept her eyes trained on it. Her expression looked to resemble pouting.

"L -let's just eat then shall we?" She stumbled on her first word internally cursing as she heard Jade's laughter.

. . .

After they had eaten Y/n had spent some time explaining to Jade the situation with Trappola's murder and handed him the vile of the substance found at the crime scene.

He listened attentively and chimed in few times for clarity. He said he would have the analysis of the substance done within two days. Soon enough she was on her way out the door even though he had offered her to stay the night she had declined politely. It wasn't weird since they were close friends with one another anyway. Not to mention there were times where she would fall asleep while waiting for Jade to finish his analysis and he would be nice enough to place her in a room.

"Thank you Jade, I would have loved to spend more time with you, but I've been really busy as of late with all these murders." She thought for a moment and then looked up at him. He was a bit tall, scratch that he was tall, of course so she got on the tips of her toes and placed a kiss on his cheek to show him her gratitude.

Jade's face lit a flame, cheeks flushed as he touched where her lips made contact.

"I'll see you later." Was all she said before walking away briskly passed the gates of his house not looking back.

She would've heard the glass breaking inside the male's house in which indicated another presense inside.

. . .

Two days had passed and the dectective was trying to piece together what was the link between these series of murders.

She had to go check with Lilia who is the pathologist that had completed an autopsy on all the bodies of the victims. As eccentric as he was he was more tolerable than the combo of intricacies that are her co workers. Then again everyone in this office was weird in their own way.

"Ah, dectective what great weather we're having today, is it not?" He said with a smile on his face.

Unlike Jade he was significantly shorter than him so she had to look down a little to see him or stand a few feet away.

"It is indeed, Lilia. You seem to be in a good mood today."

"That is because I have made a breakthrough on today, while working through the night." His smile grew and the magenta eyes affirmed his happiness toward the news he had to share.

"On Mr. Trappola's body, I have found something strange but interesting nevertheless! A scale and not only that, but there is something you should see for yourself!" He brought her over to said man's corpse luckily the bottom half of his body is covered and the top half as well up to his shoulders.

Lilia grabbed one of his tools for dissection and beckoned her to come closer as she showed her what he had found. That's when she saw it.

Lilia had a small knife and maneuvered it to a small spot itself, lifting up a small piece of skin that was already slit and based on the size of the knife and similarity to another a butter knife it wouldn't have been able to cut the skin.

"There are two more like this on this side of his neck and three on the other side. So it seems like they're gills.

"What about the other bodies?"

"I spent the night examining those as well and they all have the same gills but Trappola here is the only one who had a few scales."

"So maybe the substance has something to do with these oddities on him. Trappola probably ingested some."

"It's quite possible that whoever this murderer is trying to test the substance on the person instead of themselves but based on Trappola's few scales being the latest attempt it seems they are making improvement for whatever the elixir's use is. These strange characteristics it reminds me of some fairytale I heard some time ago." He drifted off sounding like an old man reminiscing.

"Enlgihten me then Lilia." Knowing just how Lilia liked to ramble on about myths and legends like he'd seen them and lived through their stories.

"Well if you insist but this one involves merfolk certainly you've heard of mermaids and such right these scales on legs don't they remind you of those types of things. Gills on their necks so that half people half fish would gain the ability to breath underwater."

"Ah right but this is reality. Seeing is believing though right? Who knows though maybe they could help with the case." She was skeptic hearing about a bunch of lore that could just be coincidental but she knew better than that. Coincidents were more than just preordained.

. . .

Now back at Jade's manor the dectective was contemplating what in the world such a myth could play a factor in a murder scene. It just didn't make any sense as to why the person would need such a potion. What type of person would you have to be to go that f-

She couldn't finish that thought since Jade had opened the door.

"Ah, Jade good day to you-" the dectective looked up toward him to see the tall man staring at her for a bit longer than a few seconds. She did notice the strand of black hair usually on his right was on the left.

Unconsciously she reached up and was about to grab it before her hand was grabbed.

"Just what are you doing little dectective?" His voice got a bit darker towards the end sending shivers down her spine for a second before she saw his eyes in front of her and thought to herself for a second.

'Was his gold eye always on the right?'

A slight tighter squeeze on her hand woke her up form her head. She was reminded of the situation again. She could feel his breath closer to her face, she was internally malfunctioning and was losing her train of focus.

"Ah, I was, I was just trying to flip your black strand of hair." She stuttered and didn't internally curse herself this time since the proximity was still a factor in her brain turning to mush.

Jade suddenly smiled a wide one at that. Usually it'd be small and polite even when teasing he'd have a signature closed eyed smile keeping the adorable image of his flustered dectective in his head. But that wasn't the case this time. This smile was more menacing and sent bad news toward all who saw it.

Jade towered over her a bit more leaning to the right a bit toward her ear.

"Dectective do you know what you remind me of?" He questioned with a wide smile on his face.

He leaned in too close for comfort his breath could be felt on her right ear, while his hand on her shoulder kept her still.

"An adorable little shrimp! I could just eat you up!" He said it slow to build up suspense but it sounded serious and at the same time.

She pushed him away feeling her face heat up tremendously like an oven.

"J -Jade!" She couldn't find the words to describe what she just heard feeling beyond embarrassed and having her heart pound loudly that she swore he could hear.

"I -I have to go, thank you for your time!" She frantically stated about to run off but before she could Jade had grabbed her wrist and pulled her back.

"Aww can't I get a kiss too, little shrimp? Besides aren't you forgetting something?" She was too put off by the request to understand the sentence, but her mind did process part of the sentence and she remembered why she came here.

He held up a folded up sheet of paper in his hands toying with her holding it out of her reach.

How could he say that in such a cool voice? Her nerves couldn't handle so much teasing, it wasn't unlike him but it seemed he had gone over his usual gentlemanly behavior.

She hurriedly kissed him on the cheek in which he hadn't expected such a quick response to his question with a blush on his face becoming apparent and his frozen stature. She took the opportunity to jump up for the paper and ran from near the doorstep bidding farewell with the sheet of paper she had took in hand leaving a blushing male to watch her run out. His smile grew as he saw her frantic behavior, excitement bubbling within him.

He ran outside to the backyard of the mansion to go share his newfound happiness.

. . .

"Jade! Shrimpy is really cute!" The one male spoke to Jade in a tone of voice that was different than that of a few minutes, one that would have made him believe he was Jade himself.

There appearances were so similar, cept for the eyes and voice they were twins after all. With a little makeup and easy voice tone change one could hardly tell the difference anyway.

"I'd thought you'd understand if you saw her up close, Floyd." Jade was actually outside tending to his mushrooms in the garden while his look alike was entertaining the female detective that had left in a hurry. Though knowing his brother he could already assume how it must have went. Thinking of his little dectective being so flustered indefinitely brought out his sadistic side a bit.

"Can we keep her?" Floyd was so fond of her seeing her turn red, hearing her heart beating loudly, when she stuttered and that kiss on the cheek pretty much sealed the deal for him. She was so full of life and it brought excitement for him since he had to stay within the manor and avoid everyone. His behavior would be brash and scare many in the public eye not only that but his strength was inhuman which could cause problems for the person on the receiving end. Especially if you were trying to blend in.

They only came from the sea to see the lives of humans and unlike one of their friends who started a business in this day and age. Jade could survive on land with the ability to easily fool others with a facade whereas Floyd couldn't do that all the time and would probably squeeze someone for no reason other than boredom.

He didn't like being confined but after seeing the dectective sleeping on the couch once, he became curious as to who she was and why Jade spent so much time helping her. He knew for a fact his brother was not at all kind or generous. He was beginning to finally understand.

"We are but you have to be patient, you did give her both sheets of paper before she ran off correct?" His brother inquired finally seeing the hunger in his brother's eyes.

"Yup, she gave me a kiss just so she could distract me and take it. Shrimpy is so cunning she makes me want to squeeze her and pay her back for catching me off guard like that." The thought alone sounded enticing to Floyd, he couldn't wait to wrap his tail around her.

"I need you to go on another 'outing' tonight we have to perfect this first if we want to have any shot at having her to ourselves." Jade's words did nothing to damper his mood as his excitement reached a new level at the thought of showing his little Shrimpy off to everyone.

They were trying to get make a potion in which a human could become a sea creature, though it was easy for Jade to make one for himself and Floyd to come on land. The same can't be said for a person that's been human and has not a single gene that ties them to the ocean. Altering genetics is difficult and delicate and one mistake and their dear little detective could end up just like those poor unfortunate souls that were test subjects. Jade would never risk bringing her with them under the sea if he wasn't sure she'd make it.

"Okay~ Jade!" He said eagerly!

Now that Floyd was on board as well he would be more motivated and inclined to help, making it more easier for Jade as he wouldn't bother and complain so much about being on land longer.

. . .

She barely slept a wink after what had occurred. Every time she thought about her encounter with Jade she'd blush and bury her face into a pillow with frustration.

She tried before to get some of her work done before that, but that didn't work out too well as her mind drifted back to the same situation.

How close he was, the warmth of his breath against her ear, it was enough to make her brain stop functioning as if he were there again.

He seemed far more clingy than usual and she didn't know how to describe it other than strange. The notes from the alchemist were neat and precise and confirmed what Lilia and her examined on the bodies earlier in the day. But that wasn't the only thing that fell from the folded piece of paper. It was another small piece with neat cursive that matched the analytics on the other page.

'Would you like to spend your day off with me?'

Yet another reason she wouldn't be getting much sleep tonight.

. . .

After getting off from work she mentioned to her coworkers how Jade had offered her to spend her day off with him. Well they asked what she was gonna do with her day off since it was a rarity. First Cater asked her if she said yes to him yet. She said no and he understood from the get go that she was way too flustered to even respond to him. So he offered to go respond to him on her phone.

Rook congratulated her and went on a rant about love even though she tried to get through his head it wasn't a date. He asked what she would wear and she had no actual clue, in which Rook took that as an invitation to lend his aid and expertise.

He brought her to one of his friend's businesses. Cater said this place was highly recommended and that anyone whose anyone came to the place for a makeover. Specifically called Vil's beauty salon and boutique. She didn't understand how a person could have both but he seemed to be managing it fine. The said shop owner gave her one look and shook his head at her appearance.

His words were, "What a poor excuse for a girl to go on date with such a potato face such as that, it's shameful for not only you but the guy as well."

He had her try on clothes and by the end of it all, she felt different. Her head hurt from all the pulling around of her hair. She had put on enough clothes that she believed she was playing dress up. The outfit settled upon was different from her usual style and she had on makeup for the first time in her life.

Rook and Cater applauded Vil's work new appearance. The dectective had to admit that when she looked in the mirror she understood why Vil had such a reputation that Cater reccomended him highly.

She had to buy all of it of course and thanked Vil immensely for his efforts. There was actually a discount considering Rook brought her and she looked so 'pathetic'. He had a victoriously smug smile on his face and complimented his own efforts before waving the trio off. She thanked her two coworkers and bid them farewell, looking forward to the her first day off in a millennia.

When she met Jade the next day at his door he was plenty surprised by her appearance. He blushed with his eyes widened in astonishment at the change. Not to mention on the side of the manor Floyd could see just how beautiful she had dressed. It was going to be a long day especially with the heels she was wearing and trying her hardest to walk in.

. . .

The two friends went to Clover's bakery where Jade offered to pay for any sweets she wanted but it seemed they were terribly busy today and the line was a bit long not mention the place was packed inside so there weren't any tables to sit in.

Trey said it was nice to see her out and about for once not on dectective business for once. He said hello to Jade as they were all friends though she only knew Trey from Jade who introduced me. On rare occasions she would go to his bakery for something sweet. He handed them two cupcakes for free but also asked for a favor for him.

"Can you give deliever Riddle this tart please? His mother isn't home and he rarely ever gets anything sweet. I usually have Ace do it but-" He looks away for a moment.

"It's fine, Jade do you-"

"It's no trouble at all, we'd be happy to." He says with an enchanting smile on his face.

Trey handed over the box containing the tart to them and they made their way over to the clinic where Riddle resided.

On the way Jade and her conversed. She asked him why he agreed so quickly and he responded with his own unique answer.

"I know it's in your nature to help others. Yet another fond trait of yours."

It's more embarrassing hearing it for the first time and out loud no less. She could feel her face heat up again.

"Then there's when you turn into a cherry, one of my favorite traits." He said in a teasing tone with a smile toward her making the dectective flush even more and look away biting into her cupcake. To ignore the laughter emitting from her friend alongside her. Now this is the Jade she knows.

. . .

To be completely honest both of them enjoyed their time today with one another. They had delivered Riddle's tart which was almost a complete disaster.

Considering she asked Jade to be lookout in case his mother came back. Long story short she did arrive earlier than expected. After she and Riddle heard her voice outside the walls right near the entrance gate, the dectective told Riddle to go before she found him with the tart. Riddle was far more worried about her but the dectective told him she'd be fine.

By fine she meant ducking in the rose bushes for cover, there weren't any thorns surprisingly all been cut off. She waited for Riddle's mother to enter the house and had to scale the wall that was located next to an alleyway. Climbing up was the easy part but getting down was the hard part. She was wearing heels and that drop looked like she would possibly break a bone if she landed the wrong way.

She came to a decision to take a leap of fate and let her heels drop to the ground. One thought passed about Vil being pissed about her ruining them. She shook her head though and pushed herself off.

Before she could land someone else caught her. Looking up at her savior she saw the two colored eyes of Jade. Who smiled happily at making it on time.

"Ah look at that, my assumption was right. I thought you'd take this route out their place. It would've been such a shame if you were to get injured."

"Thank you Jade, can you put me down now please?"

"I don't think so I'd rather hold you like this until we get to the resturant for everyone to see." He playfully said watching her face heat up.

"Wha-? N -no I can walk on my own!"

"But you might have hurt something besides someone who can't get their words out is akin to a child so they must be coddled correct?" His teasing was endless today.

. . .

After leaving the Monstro Lounge a business run by one of Jade's friends, Azul Ashengrotto, the sun had already long set.

"Let me accompany you to your apartment, Y/n it's supposedly dangerous to be out after dark correct? Or you can just spend the night again?" He offered.

"I have to decline besides I've already used enough of your generosity I don't want to take it for granted. It's been such a great day thanks to you Jade, wish we could do these more often cept for the fact I have work tomorrow." She said in a relaxed tone.

Despite all the teasing she really did enjoy herself with the man. Having her heart beating loudly all day and having her brain short circuit was all too amusing to the man beside her, but out of everyone else even his own brother she made him feel strangely different. He couldn't explain the feeling itself, but he knew for a fact he'd never do all of this for someone he would use.

"You wish to spend more time with me? I can grant that you know." Jade had said that so simply and out of the blue but in a calm tone as well.

"There's no way you can do something like that but I appreciate the thought. It's fine though you've done enough already. I'd rather not burden you with a simple wish." She said with content.

Before he could respond to that statement fast footsteps hurried over to them both and made the pair turn around.

"I saw the killer it was Mr.Leech! He ran away from the scene!" His hair was a light green, eyes full of life and the loud tone of his voice was distinct.

"Sebek what do you mean you saw Jade kill someone he was with me the entire time!We just left the Monstro Lounge Azul saw us leave!" The dectective was defensive pertaining to justice being served, not to mention her friend was being accused and she had been with him the entirely of the day.

"No it was him I saw him Felmier was killed by him!"

"Felmier was killed?! You should've started with that! Take me to the body did you make sure he was dead?!"

. . .

Sebek had spread all about the town that Jade was the murderer even though the people who had seen us together throughout the day vouched. Trey, Riddle, Azul, Rook, and Cater even Vil had seen them together. Some actually took Sebek's words in and started to distrust Jade even so.

Vil and Rook two friends of Felmier had paid for the funeral costs as Epel's family was struggling. It was admirable to see the young man take on the vicious job as Vil's protégé. It really was a shame. Vil actually kept up a face and Rook though he looked upon the casket with blank like expression it was easy to tell he was out for blood. Jade did show up to pay his respects even though some glared at him and were suspicious.

Vil came up to dectecrive during the repass and told her to make that fool pay dearly. She would of course no argument there. Epel had been a good kid and may have been a bit brash but still good nonetheless. So was Ace.

And thus a good day ended on a sour note.

The dectective would have more sleepless nights. Lilia performed an autopsy on Epel's body with Vil standing by his side to make sure he didn't damage it. Even he was shocked to see more and more scales near his legs and gills that were more prominent.

These people were getting even more closer to there goal it seemed and she couldn't do a thing. She was so frustrated at that fact alone. Jade's analysis did help some though. Looking through shops though that sold what would be the components of the elixir nothing suspicious could be found in any of the people who had brought those items. Not to mention those who did didn't have all the items brought from another store, there was no reoccurring name in sales.

Speaking of Jade though she had begun to think back to Sebek. He wasn't the type to lie not on the name of the mysterious nobleman Malleus Draconia that he served would he ever embarrass himself to stain his name even slightly. That's what Lilia told her at least.

He said Jade had did the deed. But he was with her the entire time. Come to think Sam's description had also matched Jade's strange behavior before he gave her the analysis, but it didn't make sense. Jade was one person he couldn't be in two places at once!

Maybe someone was trying to frame him and to that extent she went to go question if he had any enemies of the sort. His response was that he didn't have any as far as he knew. That could have been a good lead.

With no others she sighed looking extremely worn out and Jade had a frown seeing her state. He insisted she stay the night and she denied saying she had to finish this case even more so now. He at least offered her a meal in which he put slipped some sleeping pills that made her fall asleep after eating.

Both pairs of two colored eyes gazed at her peaceful state not liking how she'd exhaust herself with so much work. Only for the sake of others and waste time and effort for people that isn't them. It was annoying to Floyd and agitated Jade more than he liked to admit. She did say she wanted to spend more time with them right?? If only she didn't have that stupid job. Even more a reason to push the date up to the next few days.

. . .

About a week and a half had passed and the dectective had no other leads still. It was killing her to say the least. All those unfortunate victims and those families and friends that mourned definitely weighed on her shoulders, guilt eating at her insides. Such a shame too within the end of the day she was at home taking an evening nap on her day off in which she didn't even go out today. Her phone buzzed waking her up from her slumber.

A text from Jade. It had been awhile since they last talked seeing as she fell asleep at his manor again even though she didn't intend to.

Rubbing her eyes she read the text from her bright phone screen.

'Meet me at the dock at 10 today.'

She wasn't as flustered as last time in fact she considered not going as this case took top priority. But this was Jade, her closest friend, and she hadn't taken much of a break as her nap was only 30 mintues probably the only amount of sleep she would get today if she was being honest with herself.

She reluctantly sighed and decided to get ready an hour before meeting him and walk there a bit early to have some time to her own thoughts. She thought about going to Vil's shop to buy another outfit but it would have been a waste if they were only meeting for a short time. Not to mention she didn't want Vil to come to the conclusion she was slacking off with Jade even though the bags around her eyes were very much proof.

As she sat at the edge of the dock admiring the stars the waves hitting the edge of the pier calmed her head. It was nice to say the least.

She wondered what Jade would have to talk about. She looked at her phone and saw it was 10:05, Jade being late was a surprise, hopefully if she waited a bit longer her worry would ease. That atmosphere could not have lasted any longer.

A slight wind blew and during that exact moment something pulled her under by her feet into the cold ocean waters below. She managed to hold her breath and open her eyes to see nothing but darkness even with the moon behind the clouds right about now only endless shadows were there.

She could barely hear but she could have sworn something swam by her. Arms touched her waist which almost made her scream for a moment though that was something suicidal. It touch the sides of her stomach and stayed there for a moment.

Even though she tried to struggle it was fruitless when the thing that held her tickled her sides making her open her mouth and succumb to breathing in water then choking soon after. That wasn't the only thing to occur since the next second lips were on hers and a fluid trickled down her throat along with the water that she was trying to swallow. The tongue of said thing dipped inside her mouth and would have made her gag if they hadn't pulled away.

She regretted it the moment they did cause she still could breath and with her mouth open she thought she would take her final breath. Both or what she assumes were two people backed off letting her go to meet her demise with her slowly closing her eyes. She didn't notice the glow of what transpired around her lower half of her body. She could finally take in some much needed breaths except her neck for some reason felt sore and she could no longer move her legs separately to try and swim up for air.

Looking down she saw the horrid image of a long tail with a fin on the end where her legs were supposed to be. The pain form her neck was from three newly formed slits on either side of her neck. Her fingers traced over them finding this whole situation unbelievable. When she finally came to her senses she found herself hearing voices as well.

"Shrimpy's still here! It worked, Jade!" A cheerful voice could be heard in the cold waters that surrounded her.

Something slimy wrapped about her new found lower half. Pulling her closer to be within someone's arms. They held her a bit too tight like all the air, water in her lungs could have been? Did she still even have those anymore she wondered? Even still the amount of pressure put on her by the creature hugging her was able to be felt.

He was laughing happily spinning around in circles with the former human female getting dizzy by the second.

"I can see that Floyd. How wonderful, but do take it down a notch she only was just turned after all." That voice was all too familiar. She couldn't help but say it aloud, but that couldn't be true.

"Jade?" Her voice was a whisper but of course he still heard it.

"Yes, my dear angelfish what is it?" He responded in an endearing tone that was calm despite the situation she was just put through.

She glanced toward the voice to see what appeared to be a creature similar to that of an eel by the tail. Her eyes trailed up to the sight of his face. It was him no doubt about it. The eyes were exact and so was the hair the only difference was the body and skin.

"Aw Shrimpy why'd you acknowledge him first? I'm here too." A voice whined in a more child like tone directly in her ear. It brought a shiver down her spine.

'Shrimpy?' That was unmistakably the nickname Jade gave her when he acted weird.

She turned toward his way and saw a sharp toothed grin on his face when she looked at him.

"Floyd you haven't even introduced yourself." Jade sounded like his normal self and this Floyd person was just the complete opposite of him.

"Oh right Shrimpy I'm Floyd, Jade's brother and your going to be with us in the sea from now on! Isn't that great? I can't wait to show you all my favorite places you'll love it!" He sounded so excited while dread built up in the mermaid.

"What do you mean stay here?! What have you done to me? Who, what even are you two?!" She said those words with malice laced into them having them both chuckle in response.

Jade had also wrapped his tail about her upper half restraining her further. He brought himself closer to her face, a smirk etched on to it.

"My, my, Y/n you did say you wanted to spend more time with me, isn't this what you wanted?" He tilted her chin up showing a sadistic smile on his face that only built up even more dread than what his brother had already.

"I didn't realize or expected anything like this and you know that! Why would you do this?! You! You-" She thought for a second processing all that had occurred the past couple of weeks.

"You killed them you gave them that exlixir that ended their lives. Every single one of them." This time it was the other brother's turn to speak.

"There's our little dectective she's so smart!~" Floyd just made her completely uncomfortable with how he would call her that nickname and whisper words in her ear.

"Why? Why would you do this?" She became defeated knowing turf like this was theirs and she stood no chance against them in the first place.

"Eh why? Is Shrimpy really that blind Jade?" Floyd mocked her with no remorse as tears streamed down the dectective's eyes at the thought of letting so many people down.

"Why? My dear angelfish haven't you noticed? We've become quite enamored with you. Hm no better word to put it is obsessed, at first it was just me but with Floyd's impatience I just had to get him in on understanding why we didn't go back home already. As for those people they were necessary for testing the elixir for this very moment. We couldn't have you dying on us afterall." He said with absolute calmness evoking rage within the mermaid.

She clenched her fists.

"So many were sacrificed, I should've died, instead." She murmured the last half but both the twin eels heard it.

There expressions turned dark and their tails gripped the female tighter startling her from her state of guilt.

"Eh, why would you say that Shrimpy, we can't have you leaving us. We finally got you all to ourselves and I haven't had much time with you, and yet you say you want to leave." Floyd's arms contracted her more than Jade's tail already, now she understood what it must have felt like for Trappola.

"He is right Y/n dear, we only want what's best for you and having you say that only makes our blood boil so please understand." Jade gripped her chin with a scary amount of strength. This was the first time he ever seemed so much more intimidating to her.

"Don't ever say something like that again am I clear?"

From that point on she was stuck between the twin eels who loved her so. She only wished she could have been able to listen to Sebek when he said the truth. Mr. Leech did do it just not the one she thought.

[mindmeltonabun-blog]

Doom At Your Service: Analysis & Theories for EPs 7-8

Welcome back to another edition of analyses and theories time with me! I’m going to try and keep this post as short and as simple as possible. In case I don’t, I apologize in advance! Also, sorry if this post is filled with grammar mistakes and confusing syntax...I'm writing/editing this late at night and my ADHD meds have lost their effectiveness.

Anyways Eps 7-8 was pretty awesome and I’m glad that a bunch of my previous theories had come true! For those who wonder how I come up with some of these theories, I just look at everything whether it be big or small. I also try to look for connections and patterns. At the same time, I try to understand the motivations of characters and what is the big picture the writer is trying to paint. Once you're able to do all of that then you can predict where the story is going. This is how for the most part I was able to predict the events and endings of shows like TOTNT and TKEM. Anyhow, let’s get down to analyzing and theorizing! Turn on those thinking caps!

What the Rock Balancing Structure Represents

Rock balancing is a form of art that involves a person placing a combination of rocks in an arrangement. To achieve balance of the rocks, one must be very patient and compassionate. In its completion, the structure represents that while things may appear impossible, they are actually possible. So what seems impossible, but can actually be possible? Hmmm probably Myul Mang learning what it means to be human and ending up becoming human. Notice that both the rock art is next to the plant and the story of Pinocchio? It's saying saying that the impossible can be possible. It's possible for Myul Mang to be able to learn what it means to be a human so that the impossible can happen...he can "grow" up to becoming a real human.

The whole rock balancing structure could also signify that in order to grow, one must overcome one's deepest fears. I don't know about you all, but stacking rocks is a scary thing especially since at any moment the whole thing could fall over. Anyways, if you remembered, Myul Mang had been searching everywhere for Dong Kyung and feeling like one of his worst fears (Dong Kyung not existing) had came true. It's only when he goes to Dora's hospital room and sees both the Pinocchio book and rock structure that he got Dora's lesson. And that's why afterwards you didn't see Myul Mang going on another search for Dong Kyung somewhere else.

A brief digression. I’ve seen multiple people theorizing that the plant and the butterfly represent Dong Kyung and Myul Mang respectively. To them I say, did you just completely miss the part where Dora says the plant is Myul Mang? Myul Mang is both the butterfly and the plant. For those who still don’t see that, let me break it down.

First, what do butterflies symbolize? They symbolize metamorphosis, death, and rebirth. Myul Mang is not a literal butterfly, but he will eventually be one in a metaphorical sense. If anything, Myul Mang right now is like a caterpillar on the verge of entering the cocoon stage that is followed by a reemergence as a butterfly aka human. You can also look at it this way, Pinocchio is a butterfly too. Why? Well, look at what happens to Pinocchio. He is reborn as a real boy after having gone through metamorphosis (puppet -> real boy).

Now let’s examine the plant symbolism. What do plants represent in DAYS? They represent humans. What is Dora growing? A human Myul Mang..DUH!! Sorry, but I didn’t think it was that hard of a concept to grasp especially since Dora has already explicitly said what she is growing in that one scene. For Myul Mang to grow up to become a "good" human, he needs to learn to think about others, forgive himself, be compassionate (not only towards himself, but others as well), love others, etc. Other things Myul Mang would probably need to learn is how to love his fate or amor fati (loving your fate means loving it all, not just the good parts, but the bad parts too; loving it so much so that you would never want to change anything about it and would gladly relive your life the way it was over and over again for all of eternity).

I don’t think the "plant" will fully "blossom" until Myul Mang sacrifices himself to save Dong Kyung for the sole reason that he loves her (in contrast to sacrificing himself for his own personal gain). Therefore, that's probably the final lesson -- how to be completely selfless.

Dora just wants her son to grow up to be a "good" plant (human) so she doesn't have to end up pulling him out aka end him before he even becomes human! Okay???

Sorry if what I've just said was confusing. What I meant to say is that Myul Mang's personal growth is reflective in the plant's growth. The more he learns of what it means to be a "good" human, the more the plant will grow until it blossoms into a beautiful flower (a real human).

If we want to connect the idea of personal growth to the story of Pinocchio, we see that Pinocchio's growth occurs only after he experiences pain (physical and emotional) and love. From these experiences, he learns what it means to be a "good" boy and is rewarded by the Fairy transforming him into a real boy.

One Wish or Wishes?

In my previous post, I had briefly touched upon how I think Dong Kyung is going to wish for brain cancer to be cured. Though I still think this, I nevertheless want to explore some of the other possibilities of what her wish could be.

Potential Wishes:

1) Myul Mang to Become Human

2) More Wishes

3) Contract to be Voided

4) No One Remembering Her After She Dies

For #1, Dong Kyung wishes Myul Mang to become human, but then she still dies from her untreated brain cancer…so nope. For #2 and #3, are these wishes even allowed? I would like to point out some flaws of the writer. Maybe it’s not so much a flaw, but an annoyance I have with the writer of DAYS. What one can or cannot wish for is not explicitly stated. Due to this, it is somewhat difficult for me to accurately predict what Dong Kyung will wish for. It’s like trying to detect a substance without being given its upper and lower limits or range of detection (sorry for the science related analogy) ! For #4, I guess this one could be probable, but there is just too much evidence pointing to Myul Mang's death. After exploring each of the possibilities, I'm still left thinking that Dong Kyung's one wish will be to cure her cancer.

Anyways, even if Dong Kyung wishes for her brain cancer to be cured, it’s not really a happy ending since Myul Mang still dies. Is there any other way for Dong Kyung to make another wish so that she can save Myul Mang? I think there is and it comes in the form of the “gift” that Dora gave Dong Kyung. In my previous post, I had theorized that the marble may have a larger purpose than just being a symbol of how the fate of the world is Dong Kyung hands. I believe now that the marble’s larger purpose is that it is a type of wish fulfilling stone. Why? Because we know fantasy dramas typically make references to mythology. In this case, the writer of DAYS is probably referencing Hindu mythology.

In Hindu mythology there are 3 main gods:

1) Brahma: The Creator

2) Vishnu: The Preserver

3) Shiva: The Destroyer (Sounds like Myul Mang right? Also, the love story between Shiva and Parvati is somewhat similar to that of Myul Mang and Dong Kyung’s love story.)

Dora is the equivalent to the god Vishnu in Hindu mythology. Vishnu is often depicted wearing a “Cintamani”, a type of wish fulling stone analogous to the Philosopher’s Stone (hint hint…transforms something from one form into another…immortal -> human) in Western mythology. Given this, the marble/Cintamani in Dong Kyung's possession could be the key to Myul Mang’s rebirth.

Some might ask, “Well why can’t Dora just use it to wish for her son to be reborn as a human?”. Well, remember that both Dora and Myul Mang are slaves to the wishes of humans. They themselves cannot fulfil their own wishes or desires. Meaning, even though Dora and Myul Mang can wish for something to happen, they cannot carry it out unless humans wish it too. Also, as I mentioned previously, deities in kdramas never just give humans gift because they’re being nice. Rather, they give gifts to humans so that humans can help them accomplish their overall goals/wishes.

So putting it all together, do you see where I’m going with this? Dora has the same wish as Dong Kyung which is for Myul Mang to live, but Dora is unable to execute her goals/wishes unless Dong Kyung wishes it too. Dora knows that Dong Kyung will probably use her one wish to cure her brain cancer. At the same time, this leaves her son, Myul Mang, to die. Therefore, Dora gives Dong Kyung the wish fulfilling marble with the intention that Dong Kyung will use it to wish for her son, Myul Mang, to be reborn as a human. With Dora/Dong Kyung’s wish, Myul Mang will be free from his cursed life as an immortal and be reborn to be able to live happily with Dong Kyung.

Side note, the rebirth of Myul Mang into a human can either be dependent on Myul Mang's personal growth or it can be dependent on this wish fulfilling stone or both! I'm leaning more towards his personal growth as being the catalyst for his rebirth, but who knows! It very well could be that the marble has a role to play in his rebirth.

Is Dong Kyung Going To Be An Immortal?

No…no…and NO!!

Some might ask why don’t I think this? Well, for a bunch of reasons. I’ll admit I used to think that it would be very romantic for a human to become immortal so that they can be with their immortal lover forever. However, the more I thought about it, I came to the realization the notion of forever is not romantic nor beautiful. At its core, the concept of eternity is quite terrifying and ugly. And if you haven’t realized already, the writer of DAYS has been making multiple arguments against immortality. For anything to have meaning, it must have an end. In this sense, the end is beautiful.

To get my point across, I want you to try and think about some things. What keeps life meaningful? Experiences? People? Well, imagine doing something you love for a year. Now imagine doing it for trillions or zillions of years. Experiences no matter how good they are at first will eventually become tedious if you do it for long enough. For example, eating your favorite dish may be good for a while, but not for zillions of years. At one point or another, you ultimately lose your desire to want to eat it or eat entirely for that matter.

Now surely getting to know people and loving them can keep your life meaningful right? Well, how many times do you think you could handle knowing and loving people who eventually disappear? Eventually, you grow tired of crying and mourning over dead loved ones that you become numb. Now imagine being Dong Kyung. She would have to witness her family, their family, and so forth dying over and over again for all of eternity. Doesn’t that seem tortuous? Sure, one could argue that at least she has Myul Mang with her, but do you really think her love for him could sustain her forever? The relationship between Myul Mang and his mother, Dora, is a prime example of how a loving relationship could turn sour over a great deal of time. The gift of immorality Dora bestowed on Myul Mang became a curse instead of a blessing. So why would Myul Mang want to give Dong Kyung something that was basically a curse for him? As for Dora, she probably wouldn’t want to give Dong Kyung the same gift after seeing what it did to her son.

If you continue to think that Dong Kyung will become an immortal being, did you really smell what the writer of DAYS was cooking or did you just smell what you were cooking?

The Bad Case of the Riddles

From what I have been reading on multiple platforms now, it would seem that a lot of people are rather confused about a lot of things. It’s understandable! Throughout the show, the writer has presented some complex philosophical concepts that may be difficult for some viewers to grasp. To further add to the confusion, the characters at times do speak in what appears to be riddles. This I believe may be one of the major flaws of the writer. She has to consider that her audience are probably people who have never read any philosophical works before. Most viewers aren’t here to decipher cryptic messages or see how they’re connected to some major philosophical concepts such as eternal recurrence, existentialism, nihilism, amor fati, etc. Most are here to shut off their tired brain and enjoy some good fantasy romance! I know I’m totally one of those people!

Needless to say, I did find myself in a debate of whether I should discuss some philosophical concepts referenced in the show as to help you all gain a better sense of understanding. However, I concluded that it would take too much of my time to do so. Additionally, despite my best efforts to use the simplest of words, I found that whatever I had already written may have still been confusing to the everyday reader. Anyways, if there are any particular scenes or dialogue you all want to me go over, please feel free to use the ask button and I’ll do my best to try and answer them!

Whats Going to Happen Next?

Probably more filler type stuff aka more bs. It's common in kdramas for characters to go back and forth on their initial decision of whatever. Dong Kyung is going to break up with Myul Mang because she loves him and doesn't want him to die. And before the breakup, she's going to give him some good memories to remember her by. Following this, she's going to try and love herself so that she's the one that ends up dying and her wish is going to be for everyone to forget her? Okay......Zzzzzzz!! Idk... Dora is probably going to intervene somehow to get Dong Kyung and Myul Mang back together again.

Other Random Thoughts

What I think would be interesting to learn about is the connection between Dong Kyung's parents death and Dora past self's death. It wasn't just all a coincidence that they both died on the same day. Who knows... maybe Dong Kyung was meant to be in the car that day with her parents, but Dora's past self sacrificed herself to change Dong Kyung's fate.

Also, I still don't think Dong Kyung is going to die, I mean you got her brother praying to the deities that she lives!

Okay, I'm done. I wrote this in Microsoft Word and it was 5 pages long. My brain is dead. There's probably something I should've gone over or elaborated more about, but oh well. Thanks for reading this disjointed post!