#if i finish it i might share it - first time sharing anything I've written too - we'll see
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happyccino · 2 years ago
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oh
that's
oh
i'm
i am legitimately tearing up oh wow
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m00nkeiki · 3 months ago
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First Hug from Ace, Sabo, and Law
As part of the “First Hugs” Series Featuring: Ace, Sabo, and Law Content Warning: Nothing serious, just a little sadder than the last set of headcannons.
Ace
Ace is your fellow “friendly fella,” the guy who seems to be there for everyone and anything! But deep down, the poor dude battles with such deeply ingrained self doubt and loathing to the point he wonders if even he himself is even worthy of giving affection.
With all that said, you’ve grown such a fond friendship with him, the kind where surely but slowly Ace knew he could trust you. 
You were both out camping on a quiet night, exchanging stories, sharing laughs… Like the warm fire which Ace himself created with his powers, it was a lovely cozy night the two of you shared together.
Then there’s a window for the two of you to be vulnerable with one another. You always knew Ace was truly troubled deep down, so why not share some struggles of yours? 
When you do, he listens to you intently, his eyes locked on your face as he is overcome with the realization that… he is not alone, that even if he might be the most hated person in the world, he has his crew and you to count on.
Once you finish telling your stories, you’re suddenly met with Ace bringing you into one of the tightest hugs ever: it’s firm, assuring, and full of fiery empathy. He’s tearing up, not profusely so, but you can tell that he’s dropping all his walls to be there for you wholeheartedly.
“Thank you for always being there for me… and I’ll be there for you too, promise!”
Sabo 
You always knew Sabo was a gentleman, not only in his manners, but also in his heart. He conducted politeness and grace in a way he was heartfelt and genuine about it. He is a man who is so earnestly reliable, and you could always count on him.
Like a ray of light after the rain, Sabo came to your aid when he sighted you sulking and crying in the middle of the street. With an umbrella in his hand, he shielded you from the rain that hides your tears.
Following him, Sabo ensured the umbrella shielded you all the way until you found shelter. You noticed how he barely covered for himself, letting the rain soak his hat and coat: that parasol he had in hand was for you and you alone.
Once you reached indoors as Sabo withdrew the umbrella and took off his hat, you found that you could not halt yourself from crying again: he was simply too kind, how could he do all this for you?
With your emotions displayed in front of him, Sabo leads his hand to caress, from wiping the tear below your eye and down to your cheek. As you leaned towards him, both his arms had enclosed you in a warm hug.
“It does not matter how heavy your burden is. I will be by your side, always.”
Law
Law’s not afraid of affection—he’s afraid of loving and caring too much until he loses you at the worst possible time.
After the polar tang maneuvered through blizzards and iceberg filled waters, once it resurfaced, you took the time to gaze at the soft falling snow, a breathtaking respite.
Following you was Law, who claimed he too was only going to get some fresh air: but really, it was to see if you were alright
Law can act as pragmatic as he wants, but once you noticed him attempting to intertwine your hands with a small touch from his inked fingers, you knew he needed this company.
As the snow watch ends, he quietly asks if you could turn around for him. Before you knew it, Law brought you in a trembling hug, his arms soon stabilizing the moment he could hear your heartbeat, soothing and slowing the rhythm of his own which was beating so fast a while ago.
“Please, stay alive for me… Because I’ll make sure I’ll do the same for you even if it means facing hell itself.”
Huddling together in the cold of the evening, both of you reassured that silent promise, locked in this embrace. The future is uncertain, but at least relish in this time and moment with Law.
A/N: Since I've already written for Luffy, Law was sneaked into be the L of ASL :-P
More in the series: (Luffy + Zoro + Sanji)
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nicksolemnlyswears · 7 months ago
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DATING HAN LUE HEADCANONS
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pairing: han lue x reader
word count: ~2k
warnings: 18+, no smut perse but mentions of it, language, not much really, this is pretty tame
a/n: hello there! it's been a while since i've written for this lovely man but i recently found this on my notes and figured it's a good time to finish it. this was a request i got a while ago, it was by an anon so anon if you see this, i got you!!
the request only asked for dating headcanons so there's not much plot in here unlike the waitress one.
i feel really bad cause i got my han girlies on my inbox asking for more han content and i've been jumping from fandom to fandom. i just need the last movie to come out to fuel the love i have for han.
enjoy <3
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Han is a man who prefers long term relationships. Amongst a life full of chaos he relishes on those relationships he can lean back and find calm and comfort, someone he can rely on.
Doesn’t mean Han's not into hook ups though. Whenever he’s single he’ll have his fair share of one nights stands. At the end of the day he's a man with needs, especially since he loves putting his life on the line.
Han he keeps people in boxes: friends, off limits, hookups, and relationship material. Of course there’s also that box with bright red letters that spell TOXIC. Most people in that box are one night stands that thought they stood a chance after a hookup and became a little unhinged.
Whenever Han finds that person that is relationship material he doesn’t let them go. He’ll pursue them in his cool and nonchalant way. He’ll compliment them so smoothly they won’t notice until much later.
Han will invite you out to do random stuff, wording it as 'errands' and it’s only in the middle of it that you realize it’s a date. Lunch followed by a scenic walk in a park in Tokyo and then dessert? Definitely a date. It’s perfect because it takes those first date jitters out of the way.
You fall in love with him way too quickly and Han knows when you do. It's your own fault because once you realize you're head over heels you become this mumbling, blushing mess.
It was a smooth transition from friends to dating to being in a relationship and it's all because of Han. He's great at reading people and it helped him ease your nerves and figure out how you were feeling with every outing.
With entering a new relationship there's a period of getting to know the other person. Han is an open book, he doesn't see the point of hiding anything with the girl that might be his future. You either accept him as he is now or you don't and that's the end. He has nothing to hide although he tiptoes around his late teens.
When Han tells you of his life as a fugitive you don't believe him. You laugh in his face. Like, “Yeah, sure. You pulled off a heist in Brazil and stole from the richest mafia man with your posey of misfits. Hilarious.” Han shrugs and moves on.
You could've googled it but you don't. You just think Han had a rough upbringing he doesn’t like to talk about. Which is partly true but not the case. It comes to bite you in the ass afterwards.
Moving on, Han is not a fan of pecks on the lips. If it’s not a kiss that lasts more than 5 seconds don’t fucking bother. He’s an all or nothing kinda man, you know?
I mean it’s not like Han will fight you if you do but it's visible how he's left wanting more. You’ve learned your lesson the hard way. You’re in a rush and to say goodbye you quickly peck him on the lips and then Han will pull you back in and plant a good kiss in, successfully making you even more late.
That being said Han adores kisses on the forehead or temple or back of the head. Han will randomly walk up to you while you do chores around the apartment and press a kiss to the back your head with his hands on your hips. Then he’ll walk off like nothing happened, leaving you all ☺️☺️.
Dating Han includes spending nightfall in each others arms. Resting in the increasingly comfortable sofa and raking your fingers through his hair, coaxing him to stay in.
"Do you have to go out, Hannie?" You whisper, scratching on his scalp making him shudder.
"I told them I'd be there." Han's response is muffled as he gets more comfortable, his face pressed against your breasts.
"But do you have to?" You insist as your other hand goes to scratch his back.
"I guess I can stay in and see them tomorrow night," Han sighs as he relaxes even more against you. He's far too comfortable and this cuddling will soon evolve into something much more exciting by the way you're hanging on to him.
For a time there Han pauses his life for you. He stops going to the races and ignores the calls of the Toretto crew to nurture your growing relationship.
By pausing Han completely ignores that other part of his life leading the Toretto gang to come to Tokyo. It’s not like Han meant to ignore them he was just enjoying his time with you so much that he didn’t realize how much time had gone. We’ll get into that later.
Han is not one to argue a lot. If you’re annoyed at him for one reason or another he’ll take it and try to distract you. Whether it’s by calling you a sweet nickname or holding you or kissing you.
But if it’s about something that puts you at risk Han will put his foot down. You went out with your friends late at night and walked home alone? Unacceptable. Do you know how many sickos are out there? That's when real arguments form because you can be so stubborn and independent. You can handle yourself. Han trusts you fully, it's the outside world he doesn't trust.
If you prioritize your job instead of your well being? Nope. Han will have to step in. Hell you don’t have to work if you don’t want to. He has enough money for the two of you. The idea of being taken care of like that is so tempting but you do like having your own life and money.
Sleepy, morning ‘I love you’s.’ That’s when he says those three words the most. You typically wake up before him so you’ll play with his hair and trace your fingertips on his back to softly wake him up.
It's mid morning and you've just woken up. You turn in bed to find Han sleeping on his stomach, his long hair covering his eyes and tickling his cheeks.
You brush the hair away from Han's face, tracing your fingertips over his face to softly wake him. You'd typically let him sleep in more but you had plans for the day and he insisted in driving you around.
He starts to stir and softly groans. Your hands go to his naked back, because he loves when you do that. "Good morning, handsome."
"Morning," he says, opening his eyes and looking at you. His voice deeper and rougher than normal. He clears his throat and pull you to him, kissing your head and muttering an, "I love you."
"I love you, more," you say, kissing his chest before wiggling out of his arms, "Time to get up, you promised me to take me to brunch before going to the grocery store."
Han will absolutely let you drive his precious car. Whenever you want to for as long as you want to. Doesn’t matter if you scratch it or pop a tire. He can fix his car no problem. As long as you're safe he's all in for it.
Will silently get off on you driving fast and changing the gears of the car expertly. At that moment Han is a spectator and you're the show. He understands all the other girls he's either been with or hooked up with and how they got turned on at him driving.
Driving a fast car is sexy.
Han is the kinkiest yet softest lover ever. He will try anything at least once but is not into the harsher parts of BDSM. Spanking and bondage is okay he sees the appeal and he likes it but not the crazy parts of it. Han's favorite position is when you ride him. Not reverse cowgirl though because he likes seeing your face and your chest bouncing. He loves your expressions and hearing the curses that slip from your lips.
Han is a slut for long, messy make out sessions. The one's that start slow and then build up. His tongue in your mouth or his in yours he doesn't have a preference. Your hands in his hair, pulling on it. Wandering hands but not going anywhere. The ones where when he pulls away there's a string of saliva between you two.
I'm sorry but Han is a handsy man. In public he'll hold back so he'll keep a hand on your hips or waist, an arm around your shoulder is more common though. If he's being cheeky he'll grab your ass in public. In private though? Oh, hands always on you. Hand on your ass, hand on your tit, on your thigh, always a hand on you.
Han loves to buy you clothes and lingerie. He takes note on what clothes you like and will buy you a bunch of those but will also buy you clothes he would go crazy seeing you wear. He will demand you model them for him.
Clothes like a little black dress, four or five inch, expensive, high heels, lacy lingerie sets. You will model them but then you'll end up in his bed, clothes still on.
Han is quiet in public but in private, with you? That man loves to yap, especially when you get him to talk about things he's extremely passionate about. It's hard to get him to shut up.
Han won't succumb to his friends teasing him about the fact that his whipped, or a simp, oor any nonsense like that. He has you and he loves you. There's nothing to be ashamed of.
The day Domenic Toretto knocks on your shared home is the day you're thrown for a spin.
Han is right behind you greeting one of his closest friends. He introduces you two happily, urging Dom to come in and take a seat.
You stay right besides Han in the couch across from the big man. You've heard a lot about Dom and it's all been great things. You're just shocked at the surprise visit.
They make small talk until Dom says, "We need your help, Han."
"Anything, Dom."
When Dom leaves you're too quiet. Han approaches you, giving you a look, "What's wrong?"
"What's wrong? This man just came here to ask for your help in a secret mission to take down this dangerous mercenary. How do you think I feel?" You exclaim overwhelmed at what was discussed.
"You sound very surprised. I told you about Brazil and my past," Han cocks his head curiously.
"I didn't think it was real, Hannie!" You yell, "I thought you had a rough upbringing and this was your way to joke and cover it up."
"I'm sorry," Han apologizes, pressing his forehead against yours.
"Are you really doing this?" You ask, scared of what might happen now.
"I have to. They need my help," Han responds, cupping your face in his hands. There are tears in your eyes, afraid of the new reality. Gone are the days of ignorant bliss.
"What about me?" The question was heavy and loaded. You only asked one question but there were hundreds in disguise.
"I'll be back in no time. You will stay here and stay safe, alright?"
Han left early the next morning. He woke you up with a hand on your cheek and another in your back. Han gave you a long, sweet kiss and whispered 'I love you.'
You were left at home with all this new information, your computer to google Brazil, and time.
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ta-daaaa. i hope you guys enjoyed this. i know it's not a lot but i feel like i would be repeating myself since dating han headcanons is very much like the waitress headcanons, except without a plot.
i'm trying to get back into writing for han it's just a little hard since i feel like all my fictional crushes are pulling me apart, begging for my attention. my love for han is always there it's just not string enough to make me sit and write a lot. it's why i need this movie to come out asap.
you guys have been so patient so thank you for that. in any case i hope you like or enjoy some of my other work while i try and bring back han <3
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meowmeowriley · 9 months ago
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Ghost had been on his phone since Soap had entered the rec room. Not unusual, he tended to read emails or news articles in his spare time. No, what was unusual was that he had his phone sideways. Occasionally tapping at the screen with a thumb. Gaming then.
The 141's resident emo was full of surprises, one being that Ghost loved video games. The man had an old Playstation 3 that might as well have been his first born, the way he adored it. If the PS3 were his first child, then his Xbox One was rebellious problem child, the way he cursed it constantly, threatening to dismantle it and use its husk as a doorstop. Something about changing constantly, and adds on startup had been his most recent rant. He swore he loved it too, but the favoritism was obvious.
Ghost would be found in his room on one of the two consoles nearly every evening. With how often Soap found him gaming, this behavior shouldn't have struck him as odd, and yet it was the first time he'd ever seen the man play anything on his phone.
"Ya winnin', Lt.?" The glare he earned for that comment had him cackling as he fixed himself a midday coffee.
Soap sat down on the sofa with Ghost and turned on the TV. Ghost continued with whatever he was doing.
Beneath his mask the man's brow was pinched, he chewed his bottom lip, and each tap of his thumb was marginally more firm than the last. Ghost was seething, then.
Soap abandoned his show and instead watched something much more entertaining; Ghost's apparent descent into madness. He huffed on occasion, shifted in his seat, hunched his shoulders, and glared daggers down at his phone, a look that could make any of the rookies on base cry and wet themselves.
Soap was delighted. After he finished his coffee he jogged back to his room and snatched his journal so he could draw Ghost having his fit, he wanted to commit it to memory.
Soap was nearly done with his sketch, though it was a bit more than a simple sketch, nearing realism with how much detail he'd poured into Ghost's stormy eyes, when Ghost spoke quietly and for the first time in nearly an hour of them sharing space. "This game is for godless heathens." 
Soap nearly lost it, just barely managing to smother the laugh that bubbled forth. He coughed to hide what little escaped him, and used his hand to hide his face, scrubbing down to erase the smile that tried to give him away. "What, ah, what're you even playin', Ghost?"
"Tile Towers, on Webkinz."
Soap did lose it then. He'd seen the now ancient stuffy in Ghost's quarters, a scraggly looking leopard, but couldn't wrap his head around the man actually playing the game, let alone getting this angry over a mini game for children. He laughed so hard it hurt, tears streamed down his face, and Ghost booted him off the couch without even looking away from his phone.
***
Written by someone who recently found out that webkinz classic has a mobile app, and rediscovered their utter hatred for Tile Towers. Why do I keep playing it? It's awful, fucking stupid! And yet I keep. Going. Back. I'm also miffed that my original account has been deactivated. I've only been absent for like 13 years! Come on! 🤬
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luveline · 2 years ago
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hi jade!!! i was wondering if i could request a bassist!remus x roadie!reader fic in which they spend time together on their day off from touring? maybe reader is totally surprised that he even asked her?
hi gorgeous!! modern au, fem 1k
cw vague adult theme, mdni 
"There you are," Remus says, as though he's said it a hundred times before, and he'll say it a hundred times again. "I've been looking for you." 
As a roadie (merchandising, mostly), there's no reason for Remus to know who you are, nor care, but he seems to like you anyhow. And there's nowhere for you to hang out in your downtime beside hotel lobby's or your literal assigned seat in the minivan, so here you are, in your pyjamas, laying on a random lobby couch with a book smushed to your chest. 
"What?" you ask, wiping the sleep from your eyes. 
"I've been looking for you. You weren't in your room." 
"I share my room with three other girls, one who has sleep apnea." The muscles in your back sing like plucked strings as you sit up. "It's quieter here… You're looking for me?" 
"Mm. Come on. We'll go get a late dinner." 
"I'm in my pyjamas." 
Remus gestures down at himself. "I thought you might be." 
He's dressed down too. Every roadie has their thing —it's hard, learning so many names at once, and eventually people begin to typecast one another as their most defining feature. Yours, to your indifference, seems to have become your more comfortable clothing choices. You're not gross, everything's clean, but is everything acceptable attire for going out into the world? 
"No one will even notice they're pyjamas," he assumes you, holding out his hand expectantly. "They look like jogging bottoms." 
"Remus, they're lavender." 
He pulls your hand toward his chest, encouraging you to stand. "They're nice." 
He ferries you out of the hotel, and you thank your lucky stars you wore your converse rather than the hotel slippers. He's clearly thought about this, offering you a hoodie (your size, clearly swiped from the merchandise van, 'marauders' written in jagged lettering across your shoulders like bat wings) as he explains the details of your trip. 
"First we'll get dinner. Then see a film in the cinema, if you want to? They have the new Exorcist." 
"I love horror." 
"I know." He nods to himself. "And then I have to buy you fresh donuts. James says they're the only way to eat them." 
"You don't have to buy me anything." 
"Sorry, I should say it differently. I'd love to buy you fresh donuts. If that's what you want to do." 
You peek at him from the corner of your eye. "I would've stayed in the lobby if I didn't want to come out with you." 
"In that case," he murmurs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 
This is worse than flirting. It feels like an initiation, or a turned tide. You smile at him from under his arm and he visibly pauses, falters, before his own smile hooks and he walks forward with a little more purpose. 
The day moves on as promised. You eat a quick dinner at a mid range restaurant before he takes you to the cinema, where he insists he doesn't want any popcorn but eats half of yours anyways. Then he takes you for donuts, and the entire time, you're thinking, what does he want from me? If Remus wanted sex he could fuck a groupie. Half the techs would crawl into bed with him if he asked. Maybe he's just gentlemanly? 
But why would he wanna fuck you? Ignoring any self-esteem issues, you're in cuffed bottoms and bare-faced, and he has no reason to believe you'd be any good in bed. 
He might want something slower, he decides. It's easier to believe when he asks if he can hold your hand on the walk home. 
"What?" you ask, sure you heard him wrong. 
"Can I?" he says, offering you his palm. 
It's different from his pulling earlier. You give him your hand and he squeezes his fingers between yours slowly, as though savouring the feeling.
You shake your head. "Was this…" 
Remus waits for you to finish. It's hard to ask under the weight of his gaze, happy but with that air of knowing you can't quite crack. He always seems so put together, even when he's asking for things, like any answer you give is one he's prepared for. 
"Was this a date?" you force out. 
"That depends. Did it go well?" 
"I would've said yes, if you asked me." 
Remus leans in like he's telling a secret, his voice hushed to match. "I know," he says gently, the tiniest hint of smugness threaded in the slight scratch of his voice. "That's mostly why I didn't ask." 
"Mostly?" 
"I couldn't face rejection. Not from you." His eyes light with an emotion you can't name. "But if you still want to reject me, I'll cope. It might be good for me, actually, it'll give me some material. Nothing makes for better music than losing a pretty girl." 
You fluster at his wording. "I would've worn something nice," you say apologetically. "If I'd known. I would've made an effort to look nice." 
"You always look nice. You think I'm put off by your pyjamas?" 
"Stop," you mumble, mortification creeping in. I can't believe I just went on a date with a rockstar in my pyjamas. 
"It's cute. You're cute, I love that you can fall asleep anywhere–" 
"Stop!" 
Remus laughs and pulls you that last inch into his side, elbow to elbow, hip to hip. "I can't. Teasing you is half the fun. It's why I haven't mentioned the powdered sugar on your lip." 
You sigh and turn your face away from him, wiping your lip with your sleeve. "You always do this." 
"Don't wipe it off, I'll get it. It'll taste sweet." 
You take your hand out of his. "Did you want this to be a date? I'll change my mind." 
He's kinder after that, and when he rubs your shoulder like he knows you need it, you almost pass out. 
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suzuran777 · 7 months ago
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Review: Ooe -Zenpen- (Adelta)
The first part of Adelta's new BL visual novel "Ooe" was finally released on the 25th last month! The second part is scheduled to be released in winter, but the first part was already so good I highly recommend playing it. I’ve been waiting for this game for a long time and also wrote some general information/theories about the game on this blog some years ago, as well as a review of the trial version. I won't mention any big plot-related spoilers, so if you’re waiting for an English version or are just curious what the game is about, you can still continue reading if you want!
Story 30th year of the Showa era (1955), protagonist Oosaki works for a small detective agency and one day receives a strange request from a client. He's asked to attend a memorial service on behalf of his client, which will be held on the remote island of Ooejima. During his stay on the island, a series of strange events happen, and the ship that was supposed to pick them up never arrives. The organizer who invited them is not there, and shortly afterwards they also lose all contact with the outside world. Stranded on this ominous island, ten people unravel the mystery of their shared pasts and the death of the actress An Ooe.
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This version of the game focuses on three different routes, Ariake, Shimbashi and Aomi. Similar to previous Adelta games, you play all of the routes in a pre-decided route order, and with each route you finish, a new choice will show up allowing you to proceed to the next route. As I mentioned in one of my previous blog posts, each character was assigned one earthly desire/mental factor that kind of describes the character, so I will also include this again below. Now I've played the game I know that these factors are definitely not their only personality trait, but some parts of it definitely show up in the story eventually.
Ariake -  Disregard (Anapatrapya 無愧): A mortician who likes helping out those in need. After injuring his dominant hand, he has been receiving a lot of help from others. He's immediately very fond of Oosaki and wants to follow him everywhere. His mental factor pretty much indicates that he doesn't consider his own actions 'bad'.
Shimbashi -  Stinginess (Mātsarya 慳): A screenwriter who speakes in a rather strange way, combining overly-polite speach and insults. When he first meets Oosaki, he doesn't seem to trust him at all and doesn't want to tell him anything. His mental factor refers to him only wanting to satisfy his own desires, and doesn't intend to share anything with others.
Aomi -  Envy (Īrṣyā 嫉): A quiet music teacher who doesn’t talk a lot, and when he does speak, it’s limited to short sentences only. He doesn't like small talk and sometimes when Oosaki asks him something Aomi simply ignores him. His mental factor doesn't need much explanation, but even though it's envy I must say that he's not the overly-jealous type (?). It kind of refers to something more specific in his route which I can't really mention without spoiling.
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I don't think you really need a guide for this game as it's pretty obvious when new choices unlock, just start a new game after finishing the first route and you'll see! Ariake does have an alternative ending scene, so during your second playthrough don’t immediately pick the choice that leads to Shimbashi’s route, and return to Ariake’s route one more time. Afterwards you can proceed as usual. Sometimes a few choices pop up, but selecting the wrong choice has no consequences and you’ll just be re-directed to the choice menu. The wind chime sound effect indicates which one is the correct choice, but I kind of enjoyed seeing everyone’s nervous reactions while falsely accusing them of something, so I recommend that too. By the way, important items are easy to notice because of their red color, like the record on the left side of the image below. Same goes for any text written in red, it might become relevant later (maybe even in part 2).
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This game also has a status screen which you can find by selecting the small camera roll icon next to the 再開 text in the main menu, which is very useful when you're unsure if you missed any endings. I actually didn't know it was a button until I finished the game, so if you missed it... trust me you're not the only one. Once you finish part 1, a preview for part 2 will also unlock here.
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Introduction to the story Oosaki lives in a boarding house in Suga, a short walk from Hiratsuka station near Kamakura. His boss Shinkiba, who runs the detective agency, informs him about a request he received from a client. The client, a man who calls himself Shizuma Daiba, asks Oosaki to attend the memorial service of actress An Ooe on his behalf. According to Daiba, it was his father who received the invitation, however he fell ill shortly afterwards. Oosaki assumes that the person who invited him is a relative of the actress. Even though Oosaki never met her, he remembers reading news about her death. which shocked him because she was quite young and died by setting herself on fire. Even though it's a rather strange request and Shinkiba warns Oosaki, he still decides to travel to Ooejima. The island belongs to the Izu Island group and is located near Hachijojima. Originally, it was used as a military base during the Second World War, however after this it became uninhabited. Even though he has never been there, Oosaki knows about the island because his grandma who raised him was originally from this island, and he always felt like he'd travel to the island some day.
On his way to the island, he meets one of the other main characters in this game, Ariake, who’s also travelling to Ooejima for the memorial service. He’s surprised to find out Ariake’s grandmother is also from the island. After arriving at the Mikazuki inn, he receives a warm welcome from a trembling man with a knife (??), who later introduces himself as Funeno. He also meets Shimbashi who's staying at the same inn. The other characters are all staying at a different inn, but Oosaki meets them pretty soon too (Takeshiba, Shijoumae, Hinode, Aomi and Shiodome). The final character, Toyosu, appears a bit later and mentions he's in charge of the memorial service because the individual who invited them all (who nobody seems to know) couldn't come after all, which leaves everyone confused.
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Since this is mentioned in the promotional material and also happens in the trial version, I think it's not really a spoiler to mention that Funeno is the first character who gets killed shortly after this. They decide to perform a ritual to put his spirit to rest, which involves burning a straw figure, though when they finally burn it they discover someone swapped the straw figure with Funeno's body and they end up burning his body instead... Afterwards, Shiodome reveals that they didn't just receive invitation letters, but they also got a letter describing the crimes one of the other attendees committed. They were all swapped, so everyone has a letter that belongs to someone else and knows about their crimes. The orders is as follows: Funeno > Daiba > ??? > Shimbashi > Takeshiba > Aomi > Toyosu > Hinode > Shijoumae > Ariake > Shiodome > Funeno. I guess now we know why Funeno acted so nervous around Oosaki, as he introduced himself as ''Daiba'' and Funeno got Daiba's letter...
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Oosaki didn't receive any of these letters from Daiba though, so after they all return the letters to each other, Shimbashi is the only one who doesn't get his own letter, and let's just say he's not too happy about that. This also means that characters who had each other's letters know about their crimes, which is why some of them seem to be rather uncomfortable around each other. Most of the routes branch off a little bit after the scene where the trial version ends, and then the real murder mystery story starts in which they try to figure out who killed Funeno. Someone also destroyed the phone, so now there's no way to contact anyone anymore. At this point Oosaki's of course also suspicious of his client Daiba, because it's clear he was hiding something from him and sent Oosaki to the island without telling him important information.
Personal thoughts Since it’s a murder mystery game you never know which characters to trust, and because characters do die and will be absent throughout the entire route, it was a really suspenseful experience. I was interested in the story from start to finish, which is why I finished it so fast... I can't explain the feeling of dread every time one of the characters announced that something bad had happened, and you're wondering how bad it could really be. Even though the game doesn't show any super gory CGs (the most they'll show is blood), the descriptions are very detailed, so I think even without that it's easy to understand what happened to them. I also liked how the characters who die and survive are different depending on which route you play, so the game really stays interesting in all three routes.
Even though we know a second part of the game is coming, part 1 doesn't feel incomplete at all and the routes work very well on their own! So if you can read Japanese or want to use translation tools, I highly recommend playing this. It took me over 30 hours to finish the game, including the common route which is about 5 hours long, but I do play pretty fast and am already replaying some scenes, so it might be even longer. Also according to a message that came with the game, part 2's data will be free for everyone who buys part 1, so you don't need to buy them separately. I do want the physical version of the game, but I don't mind spending a bit more because the game's only 4400 yen (unlike most VNs which are about 8000-9000 yen).
My personal favorite character is Shimbashi because of his cat-like characteristics and short temper, I guess he's a bit of a tsundere now I think about it, but I also really like the abnormal way he speaks... he's super polite and extremely rude at the same time and I am curious how this would get translated in the English version. My second favorite is probably Ariake, and because he was the first route, I expected his route to be good too, since it's the first experience anyone will have with this game after all. The final route is Aomi, who I was pretty neutral about at first, but I also ended up really liking him. I shouldn't underestimate any character in this game because they will prove me wrong... so far I really like everyone. I suddenly remember when the game was announced they said all the characters are ''straight'' lol, but as expected, so far it just means they haven't been together with another man before. They do not seem to care about Oosaki's gender at all and don't make it a big deal (I also like how there's multiple lines in this game acknowledging other gender identities btw... it's mentioned out of nowhere but I love to see it). If you didn't know btw, the protag of this game is a top, all of the previous Adelta game protagonists were bottoms.
I've always liked the Adelta's artstyle and character designs, but I was really impressed by the art in this game. Every CG in Ooe just looks so beautiful and I can't stop opening the CG gallery to look at it over and over again. As for the eye color... I also have my theories because in previous games this was an important plot element, and even by just looking at the promotional material, it's clear that those with ties to Ooejima are the only characters who have red eyes, so maybe that will be mentioned in the next part? Also every character has their own ending song, similar to what they did with Uuultra C.
The references to existing literature in this game are also comparible to the older Adelta titles, for example the caves on the island kind of remind me of the novel "Kotou no Oni" and the game sometimes references Agatha Christie’s "And Then There Were None" too, with Oosaki even owning a copy of the book, and eventually comparing the people on the island to characters in the book. As I mentioned in my first blog post about this game, some of the characters' first names also reference other novel characters. For example, Shiodome’s name is Michio, which is also an important character in "Kotou no Oni", Daiba’s name is Shizuma, which seems to be referencing a character in "Inugami-ke no Ichizoku" or "The Inugami Family" (this applies to the names of his brother and father too), and Funeno’s first name is Kureichirou, which is the name of one of the main characters in "Dogra Magra". In part 1, we learn the first names of a couple of other characters too for the first time, and I do have some theories what these could be referencing, especially Takeshiba's... I also want to know more about Shiodome because I mean, from the beginning it's clear the way he behaves isn't exactly what one would consider "normal", so I wonder how he would interact with Oosaki... Cool-B did preview one of his 18+ scenes and I have many questions. Then of course there's Daiba... he's so suspicious and the promotional material keeps referring to him as a ''side character'' even though he was literally on the cover of Cool-B magazine combined with Oosaki and Ariake, so I have my doubts about that.
Honestly there's so many things I could write about but at this point I might be theorizing too much and not actually reviewing the game, but I really don't want to spoil, so I think that's it for now! Part 2 is scheduled to be released in winter, though I'm not sure if that means December, January or later. You can buy part 1 here though! Please support them. It was mentioned that they are planning to release an English and Chinese version, though any information about that will have to wait until the release of part 2. When part 2 is released I'll write a review about that too! <- you can check that out here now!
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37sommz · 8 months ago
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❁ : let it linger . . .
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✼. masterlist — taglist — request. ✼. genre: fluff. ✼. wc: 7.3k.
the whispered promise of "just daniel" left michaela's lips at the beginning of the season. with the summer break now dawning, she has to do good on her promise.
✼. warnings: language, sexual references, a little suggestive but no smut.
✼. notes: the longest thing i've written in a while. extremely proofread so if there are any errors i will cry. don't think too hard about the dates lmao. i'm posting in chronological order and am relying on wikipedia articles to match it up with the 2021 season.
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000.⠀⠀AUGUST 01, 2021    ›    Mogyorod, Hungary.
Michaela stood tall as she waited to be weighed, her lean body baked by the relentless Hungarian sun. Sweat beaded on her brow as she peeled off her racing helmet, revealing her blonde hair plastered to her forehead and beginning to curl from the heat. The roar of engines had faded into the distance, leaving a tense silence in its wake. This was not the performance she had hoped for—not even close. As the dust settled on the Hungaroring, she couldn't help but feel the weight of her lackluster performance at the Hungarian Grand Prix. It was the first time this season she had finished outside the points, and it stung deep.
With a sigh, she stepped away from the scale, her racing suit sticking to her damp skin. Jenson, her well-kept secret and former World Champion, was in the midst of preparing himself for the Sky Sports postrace coverage, his usual sly smile replaced by a look of concern. They shared a brief but knowing glance—there was something they needed to discuss, something they had been putting off for too long.
The press ring was a storm of activity, a blend of languages and camera flashes. Questions flew at her like jump scares, each journalist eager for a dramatic soundbite.
"Michaela, what went wrong today?"
"How do you bounce back from this?"
"Is the pressure getting to you?"
She faced the barrage of questions with a practiced poise that had seen her through countless press conferences. She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling beneath the tight confines of her McLaren fireproofs, her papaya and blue race suit tied around her waist.
"It's just one race," she replied calmly, a hint of steel in her voice. "We'll review the data, make adjustments, and come back stronger for the next one."
The questions persisted, but her mind was already racing ahead to the looming conversation with Daniel Ricciardo. As she stepped away from the interviewer’s audio recorder, she spotted him weaving through the crowd, his trademark grin plastered on his face despite his own tough race. She felt a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. Their friendship was one of the strongest in the paddock, but she knew that revealing her relationship with Jenson might change things.
"Hey, Mick," Daniel called out, using her favorite nickname. Wrapping her up into a brief hug. She laughed, the tension in her shoulders momentarily easing. "You okay after that?"
Michaela nodded, her eyes meeting Lewis' who mouthed a silent 'You okay?' over Daniel's shoulder. "Yeah, just ready to put it behind me."
"I heard you've got some big plans for the summer break," Daniel said, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "You gonna spill the beans?"
Michaela's cheeks flushed as she felt the weight of her promise return to press at her shoulders. She had promised Jenson that they would tell Daniel about their relationship before the next race in Spa, but the timing had to be perfect. "Well, I might be going out to a very fancy, expensive lunch next week," she said, playing coy. "Would you be interested in joining?"
"Lunch?" Daniel raised an eyebrow. "You know I could never turn down free food." He grinned. "You're paying right?" His dark eyebrows dipped, his mischievous smile remained plastered to his face.
Michaela chuckled, "Anything for you, Ricciardo." She mentally calculated the cost of the meal she had in mind at one of the popular Monaco restaurants. "But there's a catch," she added, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "Jenson might be coming too."
The teasing light in Daniel's eyes dimmed slightly, and he studied her. "Okay, what's going on here?"
Michaela feigned ignorance, her heart racing. "What do you mean?"
"You two have been acting weird around each other since the start of the season," Daniel said, his gaze sharp despite the playful tone. "If you're hiding something, I'm gonna need details."
Michaela bit her bottom lip, a nervous habit that had surfaced more frequently in recent weeks. "It's nothing, really," she assured him, her voice a tad too high. "Just... mentor shit."
Daniel raised an eyebrow, his gaze not quite letting her off the hook. "Mentor shit, huh?" He chuckled.
"The best kind of shit," Jenson quipped, walking up to them, a smirk playing on his lips. He slapped Daniel on the back, the sound echoing in the emptying press pen. "You know how these young drivers are, desperately trying to one-up the vets."
Michaela's eyes darted to Jenson, a silent plea for help. He winked at her, understanding her predicament. "It's all in good nature, Daniel. Just making sure she's on top of her game for the rest of the season."
"Is that right?" Daniel looked from Jenson to Michaela, his grin unwavering. "Well, I guess I'll just have to come to this lunch and see what kind of 'mentor shit' you two have been cooking up."
Michaela felt a mix of relief and anxiety. She had successfully diverted Daniel's suspicion—for now. She had invited him to lunch, hoping the casual setting would help ease the revelation she was about to make. But the closer the day grew, the more nervous she became. The week leading up to the lunch was a blur of training sessions, Zoom strategy meetings, and sleepless nights spent rehearsing the conversation in her head.
000.⠀⠀AUGUST 10, 2021    ›    Monte Carlo, Monaco.
The morning of the lunch, she and Jenson met at her Monaco flat, their eyes locked in a silent understanding. Jenson looked at her, his handsome features etched with concern. His strong hands rested on her hips as she typed hurriedly into the laptop laid out in front of her. "Ready for this?" He spoke, face pressing lazy whispered kisses to her soft skin. The early morning light brought a gentle glow to her skin.
Michaela nodded, her stomach doing somersaults. "As ready as I'll ever be."
She wore a flowy, floral dress that hugged her midsection's curves before falling mid-calf. It was rare the McLaren driver felt comfortable enough to be seen in public with anything other than her safe tops and baggy jeans. Perhaps the choice was a testament to the comfort in the sensuality she felt around Jenson.
"He'll be supportive," Jenson murmured, stealing a mint from the bowl that remained untouched during the racing season. 'Too much sugar' is what Michaela would mutter whenever he questioned their pristine appearance upon the kitchen island.
"Yeah," she replied, not entirely convinced. "But it's going to be weird. You know how he gets."
Jenson chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Weird? That's just his charm, love."
Michaela couldn't argue with that. Daniel had a way of making every situation seem a little less serious with his infectious humor and laid-back demeanor. It was one of the things she appreciated most about him, but today, she was dreading the potential awkwardness.
The three of them met at an open-air café, a stone's throw from the Monaco harbor. The scent of the sea mingled with the aroma of freshly baked bread and the faint hint of exhaust fumes from the street above. Daniel, dressed in a casual polo and board shorts, looked every bit the off-duty athlete.
They decided to show up separately, a strategic choice that Jenson suggested to ease her nerves. As Michaela approached the two friends and sat down, Daniel couldn't help but notice the ease with which Jenson pulled out her chair, the way their hands brushed, and the private smiles they exchanged. It was more than mentorship, and he felt a twinge of something that wasn't quite jealousy—more like the curiosity of a friend who had missed the plot twist of their favorite show.
"So, what's this big secret?" Daniel prodded, after they had ordered their meals. He leaned back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest.
Michaela took a deep breath, her eyes darting between Daniel and Jenson. "Well, it's not so much a secret as it is..." She trailed off, searching for the right words.
Jenson took the lead, his voice calm and steady. "We've been seeing each other, Daniel. It's been going on for a bit now." His hand found Michaela's underneath the table, giving it a loving squeeze as they both released tense breaths in relief.
The silence that followed was palpable, the only sound the clinking of cutlery and the distant chatter of other patrons. Daniel's eyes grew wide, his jaw hanging slightly. He looked from one to the other, as if expecting a punchline that never came.
"Wait," he finally managed, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. "You two are together? Like, together-together?" His tattooed hands fumbled for a moment before making an obscene gesture. His left index and thumb pressed against each other as his right index repeatedly poked through the small circle.
Michaela couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, while Jenson's smirk grew into a full-blown grin. "Yes, Daniel," she said, rolling her eyes. "Together-together."
"But..." Daniel sputtered, his gaze darting back and forth. "You're old enough to be her dad," He gasped, his words a bit too loud for comfort as Michaela groaned in embarrassment. Jenson could only belly laugh at the alarm in his friend's voice.
"Arse," the Brit muttered in response, quickly flipping the Aussie off as the younger of the two threw his head back with a hearty laugh.
Michaela couldn't help but feel a blush creep up her neck. "It's not like that," she said, her voice slightly defensive. "We met as drivers, not as...you know."
"Yeah? Not as," Daniel said, his voice trailing off as he tried to process the information. "Sugar baby, sugar daddy?"
Michaela's face flushed further, but she couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up from her chest. "You're such an idiot," she said, taking her turn to flip the Aussie off.
Jenson's laughter subsided, and he leaned in closer to Daniel, his expression growing serious. "Look, mate, it's not about age. It's about... well, you know, the spark."
Michaela's gaze softened as she looked at Jenson, and Daniel couldn't help but see it—the way her eyes lit up when she talked about him, the subtle blush that painted her cheeks. He felt a pang of something akin to protectiveness, but he also knew that his friends were grown adults capable of making their own decisions.
"Okay, okay," Daniel said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I get it." He took a sip of his water, the ice clinking against the glass. "But why keep it from me?"
Michaela glanced at Jenson, her eyes pleading for help. "Well, we weren't sure how everyone would take it," she admitted. "And I didn't want to distract from my season."
Jenson nodded in agreement, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of her hand. "It's a tough business," he said, his voice carrying a hint of warning. "But we felt it was time to be honest with someone. So we picked you."
Before Daniel could process Jenson’s plea, Michaela added a caveat of her own. “We’re taking our time telling everyone personally.” 
When Daniel’s head cocked in a silent question that Jenson couldn’t quite catch, Michaela answered it immediately in recognition. 
“Courtney’s known for a while now. I swore her to secrecy, asked that she keep it between us.”
The tension at the table began to ease as Daniel studied them. The camaraderie between them was clear, the way they interacted was familiar yet filled with a newfound intimacy. He sighed, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "Fine, I won't say anything," he promised. "But you owe me details, you know."
Michaela laughed nervously, "I'm not sure that's necessary."
"Oh, it absolutely is," Daniel retorted, his grin widening. "But, in all seriousness, if you're happy, I'm happy. And you do seem... different."
Michaela felt the corners of her mouth tug upward at the observation. It was true, she had felt more relaxed since she and Jenson had started seeing each other. The weight of her performance at the Hungarian Grand Prix had been significantly lessened by his support.
"What do you mean, different?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.
"More... at ease, I guess," Daniel said, his gaze searching her face. "It's like you've got a secret no one else knows, and it's just making you glow."
Michaela felt her cheeks warm at his words. She had never thought of herself as someone who glowed, but with Jenson beside her, she couldn't deny the truth in Daniel's observation. She leaned into Jenson slightly, his arm wrapping around her shoulders in a comforting embrace.
"She does have a glow, doesn't she?" Jenson mused, his eyes darting over the figure of the embarrassed McLaren driver.
Michaela playfully elbowed him in the ribs, a gesture that seemed to make him chuckle more than anything. "Shut up," she murmured, her eyes not leaving Daniel's. She was eager to gauge his true feelings, to understand if their friendship would remain unchanged by this revelation.
The conversation grew more relaxed as they shared stories of their past racing experiences and the occasional teasing remark about their current situation. Daniel's curiosity was evident, his eyes flickering between them as if attempting to assess the situation, but it was a gentle, caring curiosity rather than one of judgment. The laughter that filled the air was genuine, a testament to the strength of their bond.
As the meal wound down, Daniel leaned back in his chair, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. "Alright, I can't say I'm not surprised, but I'm happy for you two." He paused, a mischievous glint in his eye. "But now, I need to know—how did this happen?"
Michaela's eyes darted to Jenson, unable to hold his gaze for long before the heat in his eyes left her feeling vulnerable. "Well, it started in Tuscany last season," she began, her voice low and measured. "And, you know, one thing led to another."
Jenson chuckled, his hand moving to rest on her thigh. The action sent a rush of butterflies in the pit of her stomach. "It's not quite that simple," Jenson said, his voice filled with warmth. "But it's definitely been an adventure."
Michaela felt a sense of relief wash over her as Daniel nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Okay, okay," he drawled, his eyes darting between them. "But you're actually, like, dating?"
Jenson's hand tightened around her thigh under the table. "Yeah, mate," he said, his voice a little rough around the edges. "We are."
Michaela felt a swell of affection for Jenson, the way he was handling this with his usual grace under pressure. She took a deep breath and prepared herself for the next round of questions, hoping they wouldn't be too intrusive.
"So, when did you two officially, you know, become boyfriend and girlfriend?" Daniel asked, his tone light, but the curiosity in his voice was unmistakable.
Michaela felt a jolt of surprise. She and Jenson had never actually used those labels with each other, caught up in the whirlwind of secret meetups and stolen kisses between race weekends. She looked to Jenson, who returned her gaze with a hint of amusement. "Well," she began.
"It was a couple of weeks ago," Jenson interjected smoothly, saving her from further awkwardness. "After her win in Baku. We had a heart-to-heart after celebrating, and decided it was the right step for us."
Michaela nodded, the memory of their passionate night in Azerbaijan still vivid. She felt a thrill run through her as she heard Jenson refer to her as his girlfriend for the first time.
"So, you guys are official, huh?" Daniel said, raising his eyebrows. "Interesting."
Michaela felt a twinge of annoyance at the word "interesting"—it was always code for "I think this is fucking hilarious." But she took a deep breath and decided to just let him digest the information. "Yeah, we are," she said firmly, her voice steady despite her speeding thoughts.
"And you guys are, like, serious?" Daniel pressed, his eyes searching for any signs of doubt.
Michaela nodded firmly. "Yes, Daniel, we're serious. It's not just some fling." She tried to keep the defensiveness out of her voice, but it was clear she was more invested in this than she had let on.
"Alright, alright," Daniel held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "I'm just saying, you guys are pretty... intense together."
Michaela and Jenson exchanged a look that was a mix of amusement and affection. "We know," she said with a small laugh. "But it works for us."
Daniel leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "Well, I'm happy for you. But you know, I gotta ask," he paused, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "What's the juiciest bit of gossip you can give me? Something to take my mind off my own shit season."
Michaela shot him a glare, but Jenson chuckled. "You always know how to lighten the mood, don't you?"
"It's a gift," Daniel replied, a smug smile playing on his lips.
The waiter arrived with their food, a plate of linguine for Daniel, a Nicoise salad for Jenson, and a light risotto for Michaela. The aroma of garlic and white wine filled the air as the waiter served their meals with a flourish.
"Alright, if you want juicy," Jenson began, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "We did have quite the scandal in Austria."
Michaela's eyes widened in horror, "Jenson, you can't—"
"Oh, come on, love," Jenson said, a teasing smirk playing on his lips as he picked up his fork. "It's just a bit of harmless fun. Besides, it's not like we're going to tell him everything."
Michaela shot him a look that clearly said she was not amused, but the corner of her mouth twitched in a suppressed smile. She couldn't help but be drawn in by his charm, even when he was pushing her buttons. She took a sip of her wine, feeling the cool liquid wash down her throat. "Fine," she relented. "But only if you promise not to give him too much detail."
Jenson's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned closer to Daniel. "So, in Austria, we had a bit of a... situation," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper once again.
Michaela rolled her eyes, knowing exactly where this was heading. "You don't have to—"
"Too late," Daniel interrupted, his eyes gleaming. "Spill it, Button."
Jenson took a bite of his salad, savoring the moment. "Well, it was the night after qualifying. We had some...spirited celebrations, shall we say?"
Michaela couldn't help but laugh, remembering the wild night in question. "Spirited?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow. "That's one way to put it."
"Okay, okay," Jenson conceded, his grin unabashed. "It was a bit more than that. We had a bit too much to drink, and somehow ended up skinny dipping in the hotel’s pool."
Michaela's cheeks grew hot at the memory. She had been the one to suggest it, feeling wild and free in the moonlit water. "It was just a bit of fun," she protested, her voice a mix of embarrassment and defense.
"Oh, come on," Daniel leaned in, his eyes wide with excitement. "That's not the juicy part. What happened next?"
Michaela's eyes narrowed playfully at Jenson. "You tell it," she said, her voice a challenge.
Jenson took another bite of his salad, chewing slowly before speaking. "Well, after our little swim, we realized the security cameras had caught us in our...less than professional state."
"Oh my god," Daniel whispered, his eyes wide with excitement. "You're kidding."
Michaela couldn't help but chuckle at Daniel's reaction. "It's true," she said, her cheeks still flushed. "But we managed to bribe the hotel staff to delete the footage before it could go anywhere."
"Bribe them with what?" Daniel asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Let's just say I have my ways," Jenson responded with a wink, taking a sip of his water.
Michaela's eyes danced with amusement as she watched Daniel's jaw drop. "So, you're telling me you two have been fucking around, keeping secrets, and now you're just going to sit here and not tell me the full story?"
Jenson's laugh was rich and deep, a sound that made her heart flutter. "You know how it is, Daniel," he said, his voice a purr. "Some things are just for us." His words were accented by a heavy stroke of her thigh in his hand.
Michaela took a bite of her risotto, feeling the comfort of Jenson's body connected to hers. The conversation flowed easily, and she was surprised at how natural it felt to have Daniel in on their secret. The tension from earlier had dissipated, and Jenson and Daniel were back to their usual banter.
"So, what do we do now?" Daniel asked, his gaze flicking between them as he twirled his linguine around his fork. "Do we pretend like nothing's changed?"
Michaela swallowed a mouthful of her risotto, the creamy bite lingering on her tongue. "We don't have to pretend," she said, her voice firm. "But we do need to be careful."
"Understood," Daniel nodded, his eyes flickering between them. "But I can't lie, it's going to be weird seeing you two apart at the track."
Michaela felt a pang of anxiety. "I’ve been avoiding him like the plague whenever he’s got his Sky lanyard on," she assured him, her voice slightly defensive. "We know the stakes."
"It's not that," Daniel said, waving his fork dismissively. "It's just... you know, the paddock gossip can be a bitch."
Jenson's grip tightened on her leg, a silent reminder that they had agreed to keep their relationship low-key until she had secured her place in the team. "We'll be professional," he assured him. "It won't affect anything."
"Good," Daniel said, pointing his fork at them both. "Because I need you on the grid, Sommers. We all do."
Michaela nodded, the tension in her neck easing slightly. "You've got it."
000.⠀⠀AUGUST 23, 2021    ›    London, UK.
Michaela stirred in the early morning light, the soft hum of London traffic outside Jenson's flat lulling her into consciousness. Her blonde hair attempted to peak out of her silk scarf. The crisp, white pillow, drawing an intimate contrast to the brown skin of her bare shoulder. Jenson's arm was slung across her waist, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. She felt the warmth of his breath against her neck as he pressed a gentle kiss to her skin.
"Mm, it's too early," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.
"It's only early because we had such a late night," Jenson replied with a grin, his voice a low rumble. He sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist, revealing the tanned muscles of his torso and the tattoos scattered across his skin. His blues eyes squinted in the light despite the shimmer of playfulness behind them.
Michaela groaned, her hand flying up to cover her eyes. "That wasn't entirely my fault. You're insatiable, love."
He chuckled, the sound reverberating through the room, and leaned in for another kiss. "I can't help it when you're irresistible." He hopped out of bed, his bare feet landing softly on the plush carpet. "Come on, let's go for a run. Clear our heads before we start the day."
Michaela groaned again, rolling over to bury her face in the pillow. "How about I cook you the most amazing breakfast instead?"
Jenson's grin grew wider. "Now that's an offer I can't refuse." He leaned over her, planting a firm kiss on her forehead before pulling her up and into his arms. "But only if you let me help."
Michaela's eyes lit up as Jenson lifted her bridal style. "Deal." She giggled, resting her head against his chest.
They padded into the en-suite bathroom, the scent of mint toothpaste and Michaela's favorite shower gel—a new addition to Jenson's shower caddy—filling the air. The shower washed away the lingering drowsiness of the night before, leaving them refreshed. Jenson's hands were everywhere, teasing and caressing, and despite her initial protests, she found herself responding to his playfulness. After a few more giggling reprimands, she managed to break free and stepped out of the shower first, wrapping a soft towel around her. She searched the closet for one of Jenson's shirts to wear, feeling a strange sense of comfort in the oversized garment.
In the kitchen, Jenson watched as she moved with ease, her long legs on comfortable display beneath the hem of the shirt. He leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee, enjoying the view. It wasn't often that Michaela got a chance to cook for Jenson who had a habit of pampering her endlessly during their rare moments of domestic peace. But as she hummed through her ingredient prep, she couldn't help but feel a rush of satisfaction that he had chosen to take a backseat that morning.
"What can I do?" he asked out of obligation. His eyes followed the hidden lines of her athletic curves that he had committed to memory, his tone revealing the half-hearted offer of help.
Michaela's laughter filled the room as she beckoned him over before placing a cutting board in front of him. "You can keep your hands to yourself, for starters." She pointed to the ingredients laid out on the counter. "And maybe chop the veggies for the omelet?"
Jenson feigned innocence, his eyes dancing as he took the apron. "Fine, but I expect a taste-test of everything." His knife skills were surprisingly good, a testament to his days spent preparing quick meals for Myla in the lulls of his busy schedule.
Michaela couldn't help but smile as she cracked eggs into a bowl, the sound echoing in the kitchen. "Anything for you, babe," she said, turning to face him, her own mug of coffee in hand. They worked in comfortable silence, their movements in sync despite their different tasks. The occasional pop of oil from the pan had her jumping back with a laugh, only to be caught in Jenson's arms again, the warmth of his embrace bringing her a sense of comfort she had come to crave.
As they danced around each other in the kitchen, Jenson's phone rang out, the screen displaying his mother's contact photo. "It's my mum," he murmured, his eyes flicking to the clock. "She never calls this early."
Michaela's movement paused as she observed the hesitation in Jenson's eyes, the omelet mixture momentarily forgotten. "Oh, you should answer."
He sighed, swiping the phone off the counter and hitting the decline button. "It can wait. I've got things to focus on right now." His gaze settled on her, the innuendo in his tone unmistakable.
Michaela playfully rolled her eyes, swatting his hand away as he reached for her waist. "We have breakfast to cook, remember?" She poured the egg mixture into the sizzling pan, the aroma of onions and bell peppers wafting through the room.
The phone rang again, the same name lighting up the screen. "Maybe it's important," Michaela said, turning down the heat in an effort to encourage her boyfriend to pick up his mother's call.
Jenson's eyes sighed playfully, but he knew she was right. He answered the call, keeping his voice low as not to interrupt the breakfast preparations. "Hi Mum, everything okay?"
Michaela listened to his responses as she slowly cooked their food on low heat, trying to ignore the sudden tension in his voice. He spoke quickly, nodding, his eyes flicking towards the door.
"We’re alright.”
“No, she's not here.”
“Holiday with Blair’s parents.”
“Yes, I'll tell her.”
“No, I don't need any help with... you're here?"
He turned to look at Michaela, his eyes wide with surprise and a touch of annoyance. Michaela's brown eyes widened in a similar response, mouthing 'She's here?' back to him, receiving a resigned nod in reply.
"But I thought..." He trailed off, listening. "Okay, okay, give me a sec." He ended the call and placed the phone back on the counter with a thud.
Michaela's heart was racing as she flipped the omelet before completely shutting off the stove. "Your mum's here?" she whispered, her sock-covered feet frantically carrying her to the small area Jenson had set aside for her within his closet. Her manicured hands hurriedly brushed various dresses and slinky lingerie aside, searching for a respectable piece of clothing she could throw on instead. She had met Simone only once before, and the idea of being caught in Jenson's shirt, cooking breakfast, was not the impression she had wanted to make.
"Apparently, she had it in her head that Myla was with me," Jenson replied as he appeared in the doorway of his closet, a hint of exasperation in his voice. He pulled her closer, kissing her cheek. "Don't worry, she's been eager to see you again."
Michaela's eyes darted to the door as she frantically searched for her clothes. "Again? We only met once, Jenson Alexander." The use of his full name instead of the typical nickname or term of endearment brought an amused chuckle out of him.
"Trust me, she'll love you even more after seeing you in this state." He smirked, his eyes glinting mischievously.
Michaela shot him a glare, her heart was racing with anxious nerves. She slipped into her own clothes, a pair of Nike shorts and an out-of-place McLaren t-shirt that she hoped would be acceptable for an unplanned breakfast with her boyfriend's mother. Jenson's reassurance did little to ease her anxiety as she heard the door unlock down the hall.
"Coming in," Simone's cheery voice echoed through the flat, followed by the sound of the door closing.
Michaela's heart thundered in her chest as she smoothed out the wrinkles in her shirt and took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. She stepped out of the bedroom to find Simone standing in the hallway, her eyes immediately drawn to the smell of the half-cooked breakfast. 
"Oh, how lovely!" Simone exclaimed, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the planned spread. She looked between Jenson and Michaela, her expression a delightful mix of amusement and surprise.
"I didn't expect to find you both up so early," Simone said, her cheekbones rising in a knowing smile.
Michaela felt the heat of a blush creep up her neck. She knew exactly what Simone was insinuating, and she couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed. "I just wanted to cook something nice for Jenson," she said, her voice quieter than she intended.
"And you've done a marvelous job, darling," Simone said, walking into the kitchen with a grace that seemed to defy the early hour. She was dressed casually yet oddly impeccably intentional. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and she wore a light-colored floor-length sundress.
Michaela felt a sudden wave of relief wash over her as she saw the affection in Simone's eyes. She had always known that Jenson's mother had a flair for the dramatic, but she had never seen this side of her before. "Thank you, Simone," she managed to say, her voice steadying. "I hope you're hungry."
Simone took a seat at the kitchen island, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "More than you know, dear," she said, her gaze flickering to the phone in Jenson's hand. "I must apologize, I truly did believe Myla was with you this morning, Jense."
Jenson shrugged nonchalantly. "It's fine, Mum. She's with Blair's family on holiday."
Michaela busied herself with plating the omelets, placing a slice of toast and a dollop of chilled butter next to each one. She felt Simone's eyes on her, and she hoped she didn't look as flustered as she felt. "Would you like some breakfast?" she offered, her voice a bit too bright.
"Oh, absolutely," Simone said, her smile warm and genuine. "It smells heavenly."
Michaela felt a pulse of satisfaction as she served Simone, watching as she took a bite. The flavors of the omelet danced together, a blend of cheese, peppers, and onions that had been roasted to perfection. Simone's eyes closed in appreciation, and she nodded. "I fear I'll have to take drastic measures if Jense messes things up for you two, my dear. I might starve."
Jenson chuckled, sliding into a chair next to his mother. "Mum, you're terrible."
Michaela couldn't help but smile at Simone's antics, feeling a little more at ease. "It's okay, I've got him under control." She winked at Jenson, who rolled his eyes playfully.
"So, how did you two lovebirds spend your night?" Simone asked, sipping her coffee, her gaze knowing as it darted between them, eager for details.
Michaela felt her cheeks redden as she passed Jenson a plate, avoiding eye contact with his mother. "Just had a quiet dinner in," she said, hoping her voice didn't betray the memories of their very long night.
Jenson took the plate, his thumb brushing against her hand in a silent gesture of reassurance. "It was nice, actually. Just what we needed before everything kicks up again."
Simone nodded, her eyes softening. "Ah, yes. The second half of your season is around the corner." Her eyes were kind as she glanced up at Michaela from the food in front of her. She took another bite of her omelet, savoring it. "Myla talked about you non-stop after Silverstone, you know," she said to Michaela, her voice filled with warmth. "Such a bright girl, she is. You've made quite the impression on her."
Michaela felt her heart swell with affection for Myla and a newfound confidence. "I had a wonderful time with her. She's absolutely adorable."
"Oh, she thinks the world of you too," Simone said with a knowing smile. "And she's quite the little race fan. Can't get enough of watching her dad's endurance races, but she's been asking more about yours."
Michaela felt a rush of nerves at the mention of Myla. Despite her young age, she knew the girl's opinion would hold a significant weight in Jenson's life. She hoped she could live up to the expectations of being a good role model and a potential permanent figure in her life.
Jenson calmly echoed his mother's sentiments. "Myla's pretty smitten with you." He took a bite of his omelet, his eyes never leaving hers. "I can't seem to separate her from that signed cap you gave her." An unspoken question hung in the air—when would they tell Myla about their relationship?
Michaela's heart skipped a beat. "It's a lot for a seven-year-old to understand, isn't it?" she mused, her voice tinged with a hint of insecurity.
Simone set her fork down, her eyes warm and understanding. "It can be, but Myla's quite the bright little girl. You've got nothing to worry about."
Michaela took a sip of her coffee, the warmth spreading through her. "I just don't want to mess it up for her. She's been through enough with the divorce."
Simone's eyes grew serious. "You won't," she said firmly. "What you two have is different from the circumstances that drew Jenson and Blair together. Besides," she winked, "I've already told her that you'll be around more often."
Michaela felt her stomach flip, the unspoken implication that Simone had already accepted her as part of the family. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts.
"So, when do you think you'll tell her?" Simone's voice was casual, but there was an underlying curiosity that couldn't be ignored.
Michaela and Jenson shared a look, both knowing that the question had been hovering over them for a while. "We've actually been thinking about it a lot recently," Jenson said, his hand finding hers under the table. "We just want to make sure it's the right time."
"And that she's able to understand what that might mean in the future," Michaela added, her voice barely above a whisper.
Simone nodded sagely. "You know, I think she's more perceptive than either of you give her credit for. But timing is everything. Make sure it's right for all three of you."
Michaela took a deep breath, her heart pounding with both excitement and nerves. The thought of becoming a part of Jenson's family, of being a role model for Myla, filled her with a mix of joy and responsibility she hadn't anticipated.
"We will," Jenson assured her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. "We'll sit her down when she gets back, tell her we've been seeing each other, and that we're serious."
Michaela nodded, her eyes glistening with a mix of hope and trepidation. She had met Myla only two weeks ago, and while the little girl had been sweet and curious, she knew that dropping the 'girlfriend' bombshell could be overwhelming for a child of her age.
Simone, seemingly reading her thoughts, offered her own take. "Myla's a smart girl, she'll understand more than you think." She took a sip of her coffee, her eyes never leaving the young couple. "But you're right to be cautious. She's still figuring out the world, and you're a new piece of the puzzle she'll need to fit in."
Michaela nodded, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily on her shoulders. Jenson's hand remained a steady presence under the table, his thumb tracing gentle circles on her palm.
"And remember," Simone continued, her voice gentle, "It's not just about how she feels now, but how she'll feel when she's older. You both have demanding careers, and it's essential she feels loved and secure between all the travel and chaos."
Michaela nodded solemnly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. She had never felt more connected to Jenson than in that moment, knowing they were about to embark on this new chapter together. "We'll take it slow," he promised, squeezing her hand.
The conversation flowed easily after that, with Simone sharing stories about Myla's latest adventures and her own travels. As the breakfast dishes were cleared away, Jenson suggested they all sit in the living room to chat more comfortably.
Michaela felt a wave of anxiety wash over her as she took her place on the couch next to Jenson. The thought of being an official part of his life, of being a constant in Myla's life, was a concept she hadn't fully digested yet. But as she watched him interact with his mother, she realized that she had already been accepted into his world, even if it was just in small, unspoken ways.
Jenson's phone began to ring again, this time the 'Blair' contact lacked a profile picture but the name was more than enough to make him sit up. "It must be Myla with her daily check-in," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice. He took the call, his expression immediately softening as he talked to his daughter.
Michaela took the opportunity to sit next to Simone, her mind racing with thoughts of how she would fit into Myla's life. Simone, seemingly aware of her inner turmoil, placed a comforting hand on her knee. "Don't worry, darling," she said, her voice a gentle purr. "Jenson might not say it, but he's absolutely smitten with you. And you're already making him happier than I've seen him in a long, long time."
Michaela couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. Hearing that from Jenson's own mother meant the world to her. She watched as Jenson chatted with Myla, his voice filled with love and warmth. It was clear that he was a devoted father, and she knew that she had big shoes to fill.
Simone leaned in closer to her. "He talks about you constantly, you know," she whispered conspiratorially. "Every time we're on the phone, he finds a way to bring you up."
Michaela felt a warm blush spread across her cheeks. "Really?"
"Oh, yes," Simone said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "He's like a teenager experiencing his first crush. It's quite adorable, actually."
Michaela couldn't help but laugh at the image, feeling a swell of affection for Jenson. She watched him as he talked to Myla, his tone light and playful. She could see the joy in his eyes, the way his face lit up at the sound of his daughter's voice. It was clear that Myla was the center of his world, and she knew that she would have to tread carefully to ensure she didn't disrupt the delicate balance of their lives.
As Jenson spoke with Myla, Simone leaned in closer, her hand still resting on Michaela's knee. "You're going to be a wonderful influence on her, you know," she said with a knowing smile. "Jenson does his best, all things considered. And Blair... well, she's trying to rebuild their relationship. But you have a clean slate, a chance to be someone Myla looks up to, someone she can confide in, and learn from."
Michaela felt the weight of Simone's words, her heart swelling with a mix of excitement and fear. "I hope so," she murmured. "I just want to be there for her."
"And you will be," Simone assured her. "Just be yourself, and she'll continue being your biggest fan. Children are more intuitive than we give them credit for. They know when someone cares for their parents and for them."
Michaela nodded, her eyes still fixed on Jenson as he chuckled at something Myla said. She couldn't imagine a future without him and Myla in it. The thought of becoming a family, even in a non-traditional sense, filled her with warmth.
Jenson wrapped up their conversation and handed the phone to Simone. "Alright, I've had my fill of cuteness for the day," he said, leaning back into the couch and wrapping an arm around Michaela. She snuggled into his side, feeling more at ease with each passing moment.
Michaela watched as Simone's face lit up as she talked to her granddaughter. It was clear the bond between them was strong, and she hoped that she could one day share that kind of closeness with Myla too.
As the conversation on the phone grew more animated, Jenson leaned in and whispered, "Myla's been asking me about when she'll get to see you again."
Michaela's heart skipped a beat at the mention of her name. She felt a warmth spread through her, and she knew that she was ready to take this step with Jenson, regardless of the challenges that might lie ahead.
"What did you tell her?" Michaela asked with a sparkle in her eyes.
Jenson grinned, his arm tightening around her. "That she'd see you very soon." He leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead, his breath warm against her skin. "I just wanted to run it by you before I told her anything concrete."
Michaela felt a knot in her stomach loosen at his consideration. She turned to look at him, her eyes searching for any sign of doubt. "You're sure?"
Jenson nodded, his eyes full of love and confidence. "More than ever."
Michaela's smile grew as she leaned into his embrace, feeling his heartbeat against her cheek. "I can't wait," she murmured, her voice filled with genuine excitement.
Simone ended her call with Myla, her eyes shining. "Looks like things are going well with Blair’s parents," she said, handing the phone back to Jenson.
"Better than expected," he admitted, slipping the phone into his pocket. "But we've still got a way to go before everyone's happy."
Michaela nodded, understanding the complexities of co-parenting. She had overheard the occasional tension between Jenson and Blair, but she had always remained respectful of their history. Simone patted her hand. "You're going to be a fantastic addition to our little family," she said warmly.
Jenson looked over at her with a soft smile, his eyes speaking volumes. "We're all going to be just fine," he said, and Michaela believed him.
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✼. taglist:⠀
@cha-hot @certifiedlesbianbaddie @nichmeddar
@d3kstar @thewannabewriter @hwalllllllelujah
@thearchieves @doodlehunz @evie-119
@bxdbxtxh @seaweed-orchid @glitterquadricorn
@99snse @ginghampearlsnsweettea @alliwantisadonut
@hiireadstuff @emilyval1 @anotherblackreader
@sv5beehives @mynameisangeloflife @tellybearyyyy
@melancholyy-hill @valluvsu @futuristiccroissantlampsludge
@treehouse-mouse @sunfairyy
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meggletoomanyfandoms · 1 year ago
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Valentines Day!
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(Not my gif!)
Alastor x Fem!Reader
Summary- Valentines Day is coming up and Charlie has decided to incorporate the holiday and use it to create an exercise to bring the hotel staff and residents closer together!
Word count- 1,625
TW- None really. Alastor fluff, super sweet!
Not proofread, there may be some spelling/grammar mistakes!
Author's Note- This might just be the sweetest thing I've written in forever! I can't wait to write more for Alastor, as I had so much fun writing this one! I am also taking requests, feel free to send one in!
“Alright everyone! So for today’s lesson, I thought it would be fun if we did something for Valentine's Day!” Charlie excitedly said, clapping her hands together with a big smile on her face, “This could be great to strengthen our bonds and help us get to know each other better!” You looked around the room and could see the other’s weren’t too happy about this, especially Angel.
“Look, do we really gotta do this?” he asked, rolling his eyes, “Noone hardly even celebrates that holiday here.” 
“True that may be, I still think this would be a great lesson and exercise for us all!” Charlie grinned, “Okay, so what I was thinking is we draw names from this bowl and whoever you get is the one you have to make a valentine for and deliver them at the end of the day!” 
“And what are we supposed to be making?” Husk shook his head, “I gotta agree with Angel on this one, I think this is stupid…” You looked at Charlie who now had pleading eyes.
“Oh come now, this should definitely prove interesting,” Alastor said, his wide grin unfaltering. 
“Uhm.. I think this could actually be fun..” Charlie grinned and grabbed you into a big hug.
“Oh thank you, thank you!” she let you go and stuck the bowl with the names written on folded pieces of paper in it, “Here y/n, you can pick first!” 
You gulped but then stuck your hand in the bowl and grabbed one of the small sheets of paper, “Alrighty now, don’t tell us who it is! Simply make them a gift and give it to them!”
“What's the point of doing this if we’re not going to be sharing it with the rest of the group?” Angel asked as Charlie passed the bowl on, now holding it out in front of him. 
“I was thinking that we are always doing group activities so I thought that maybe this time we could do something sort of one on one! And if you’d all like, we can always share it with each other later!” 
You waited until Charlie finished passing the bowl around and everyone went to draw names., “Now everyone, see who you got!” she excitedly said as she unfolded the small piece of paper in her hands. With a racing heart, you followed suit and did the same. When you read the name on the small piece of paper your eyes instantly widened and your heart began racing.
Alastor. 
You immediately looked up to find a certain radio demon eyeing you and grinning, and after a few seconds he turned and made his way out the door. Around you you could hear a few sighs coming from the others but your thoughts drowned them out. What were you supposed to make for Alastor?You hadn’t really even spoken to the demon since you’d started staying here a few weeks ago; he really kept his distance from you and you from him. In all honesty, he kind of frightened you a bit as everything about him was so mysterious.
Sighing you made your way upstairs and into your room. You started rummaging through what few things you had in your drawer, hoping for any sort of idea to pop into your head but… Nothing. Not a damn thing. You rubbed your hands over your face and sighed once again until something at the bottom of your drawer caught your eye.
Red ribbon? You thought for a moment and grabbed it, an idea immediately popping into your mind. It won’t be anything big but it’s the best you’ve got…
--------- 
Putting the last few finishing touches on his Alastor’s gift, you felt kind of proud of yourself for making his gift. You managed to find a small box to put it in and now you just had to deliver it. Feeling suddenly nervous, you held the small box tightly in your hands as you made his way to his room. You stopped in front of his door and took a deep breath, then knockers slowly on his door.
“Come in, come in!” he said, static clinging to his voice. You did as he said and slowly opened his door to find him sitting at his table in his, er, swamp that connected to his bedroom? Yep, definitely mysterious…
“Oh my dear!” he said, standing up and making his way over to you, “yes I thought it was you got my name from the bowl!” You nodded.
“I did,” you said, “And I uhm, made you a gift but Alastor it’s not the greatest thing-” before you could finish speaking he simply shushed you.
“Now now, dear girl! I’m sure whatever you’ve made is marvelous indeed!” he held out his hands, “May I see it?” You handed the small box over to him and watched as he lifted the lid and tossed it to the floor. His smile didn't change a bit as he pulled the bright red bow out of the box and inspected it.
“I thought that maybe you'd like to put on your uhm, microphone thing? To uhh.. Liven it up a bit?” you felt your cheeks heating up instantly as you spoke aloud, what an awful gift! You could have made him literally anything else,  but this is what you came up with? 
“Thank you!” he said, sticking the ribbon onto his cane, just below the microphone, “this was a well thought out gift indeed!” You were surprised and were going to question him when he spoke again.
“For your gift my dear, we’ll have to take the long road if that is alright with you!” You shook your head.
“Uhm, Alastor I think you’re supposed to give a gift to the person whose name you drawn, not me-”
“Well whose name do you think I drew?” he said, reaching into his pocket and handing you a small white sheet of paper. Your eyes widened when you saw your own name written on the paper. He held out his arm to you, “Would you please accompany me?” You hesitated but finally took his arm and followed where he led you. 
His radio tower. You’d never been in there before- actually, you don’t think anyone except Alastor himself had been. “My gift is up here?” you asked him. He nodded his head and pointed to a seat, “Won’t you please sit, my dear?” Hesitantly, you did as he asked and sat in the chair. You watched as he took a seat at his desk and began speaking into his microphone. 
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he said, still grinning from ear to ear, “For tonight’s broadcast, I do have something special planned indeed..” You watched as he spoke and then, like it was absolutely nothing a.. Piano materialized in the room? Instead of him sitting at a desk he was now sitting in front of the instrument. 
“Yes yes, usually my broadcast’s are a bit more.. Different from the one I have planned for tonight, but ah, it is almost Valentine’s Day indeed so I thought to myself, tonight and tonight only, my dear listeners, I shall sing you a song,” he said, making sure to look directly at you with the last thing he said. It was then that he started playing the piano and you watched as his fingers effortlessly flew across the keys and then he began singing..
You instantly recognized the song, ‘La Vie En Rose’ and you were, well, most definitely caught off guard but also you were amazed. He had the sweetest singing voice and, since when did he know how to play the piano? The Alastor you knew was a ruthless soul whose only goal you thought was making deals and stealing other’s souls, but this? Maybe you really didn’t know Alastor, perhaps there was so much more to him then you had realized. 
He finished up the song and piano de-materialized and his desk reappeared, he continued on with his broadcast and you sat by him until he was finished. 
“And with that, dearest listeners, I shall bid you goodnight until next time..” he said, finishing his broadcast and then turning to look at you, still grinning from ear to ear. 
“I do hope you liked your gift, my dear,” he said to you, “Perhaps it wasn’t what you had in mind but I do hope you still enjoyed it.”
“Alastor, since when could you sing like that? And play piano?” you questioned, “Oh! Yes I did enjoy it, so much.. Nobody has ever done something like that for me.” 
“Ah my dear, there is so much that you don’t know about me,” he said, taking your hand and then kissing the top of it. You felt your cheeks begin to heat up as he did so, “Shall we go back to the others now?” You nodded your head.
“Uhm, y-yes Alastor,” you agreed, following him out of the radio tower and back down to the hotel to meet up with the others. 
BONUS:
In the hotel a radio sits upon Husks bar and is playing a certain radio demons podcast, with everyone gathered around it and listening intently. 
“Is that..?” Charlie questioned, turning one of the dials to turn up the volume. 
“Didn’t know the guy could sing, “Angel said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Who woulda guessed..” Husk rolled his eyes, taking a cloth and wiping out one of his glasses. 
“I seriously can’t believe it,” Vaggie said, turning to Charlie whose eyes were now tearing up, “Charlie?” 
“He has the most beautiful voice,” she said, now crying. Vaggie rolled her eyes but took her girlfriend into a hug, patting her back to calm her.
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aettuddae · 1 year ago
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hole in one — extras : 1.
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⌕ synopsis: at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, where everyone is battling to be the center of attention, yu jimin is just a regular. people want her because of her beauty, but all she cares about is sharing her freaky stuff with her friends and passing her subjects. although there's one thing that might push her out of her comfort zone, revenge. when nakamura kazuha, one of the richest and most well-known students of NCU, starts to spread gossip about her for thousands of followers to see, jimin decides to get back by taking away the thing kazuha cares about the most: her perfect girlfriend, the young golf star, kwon haru.
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masterlist | chapter 1
[half written chapter]
her elbows resting on the bistro counter, her eyes scanning the menu. the girl with long brown hair looked confused, still unfamiliar with the place after having only been there for two weeks. it was the first time that she approached one of the several options that the club offered for eating. she didn't want anything too heavy, but the light dishes that she had in front of her eyes didn't appeal to her at all. she had been reading and rereading the sheet that had been given to her for a couple of minutes, without reaching any resolution.
“oh! you have to try the pajeon they make here.” a boy's voice came from behind her.
when she turned to see who was talking, she found two people, both dressed in sports clothes, a tall boy with black hair and a girl who accompanied him. she looked familiar, somewhere she had seen that face of hers. the moment she laid eyes on her she couldn't help but find her beautiful. her eyes were big and she found light there, as if she had stars in them, and a smile rested on her lips, she seemed to be a genuinely radiant person.
the boy… he was there.
“the bibimbap here is also good.” added her.
“if she's going to order something to eat, it should be something really good, not bibimbap.” her friend complained, carefully hitting her shoulder to nag her.
"if she chose to eat here she clearly doesn't want anything highly produced, otherwise she would have gone to the restaurant.” she hit him back.
“ask for the pajeon, i know what i'm talking about.” the boy turned his attention back to the chestnut haired. “by the way, i’m lee minhyuk.” he held out his hand for her to shake. “keep the name in mind, it will help you if you need anything.”
“in case you need, you know, a lawyer…” his company continued. “or a cellmate.” she joked, making her laugh. “kwon haru.” she presented her hand for her to take as well, which she did after letting go of minhyuk.
she now remembered where she knew that face with angelic features. kwon haru. of course the name rang a bell in her brain. in front of her was the new promise of korean golf, the new discovery of the sport. if you liked and followed this hobby, then you had heard of haru. with her hawklike vision and precision in her swing, at 21 she had already earned a place among the country's future sports stars.
“i know that name.” she said shyly. “i'm nakamura…” she paused unconsciously, usually her last name was enough to get a reaction. “kazuha.” she finished, laughing at the awkwardness with which she said that.
"you are rich!" the taller one pointed his index finger at her and exclaimed.
"i imagine that you too." she replied simply, assuming that if you had made it into rottary, you must come from a well-off family.
“her parents are well-known businessmen.” he commented to the girl.
“i’ve heard the last name.” she nodded, but didn't seem to care too much. "are you new here? we don’t see many people our age around.”
“i've only been here for two weeks.” she informed, intimidated, for some reason, with kwon's attention.
"hello!" minhyuk greeted the cashier, who seemed to know him well. “two servings of samgyeopsal and…” he turned his head to look at the new girl and wait for her response.
“oh…” the sudden pressure took her by surprise. “a bibimbap.” she asked, finally, directing her gaze to haru, who smiled upon hearing that she took her recommendation.
“a bibimbap.” the boy added as he rolled his eyes. “you're missing it.” he shook his head.
the employee wrote down the group's order and gave them an approximate time the food would be ready, suggested they choose a table, and then walked away.
“will you sit with us?” the black haired man proposed.
“actually, i wanted to eat quickly and continue training.” she rejected him, lowering her head.
“oh, don't worry, it's okay.” he patted her shoulder reassuringly, earning a sideways glance from the girl, causing him to cut contact quickly.
“we will be seeing each other around.” haru gave her a kind expression. “look for us if you need anything.” she added. “it was a pleasure meeting you, nakamura…” she paused for a moment as she began walking towards the tables with her friend. “kazuha.” she finished, causing the named one to laugh, turning on their heel to leave.
“she doesn't like me.” minhyuk whispered towards haru once they were far from her.
"i don't think so." she dismissed him. “you're just being paranoid.” she rubbed his back with her hand to calm him down.
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“i'm sorry, haru,” the brunette spoke after seeing her ball land in the distance. “but i think i'm about to win this match.”
“after this, there is still one more hole, zuha." she replied confidently as she approached the tee. “i wouldn't claim victory yet.” she bent down to place her ball in the teeing area.
“i have fewer hits than you.” she recalled, following the girl's movements.
“and i am the next golf superstar.” she stood up and gave her a teasing smile.
kazuha opened her eyes in surprise and let out a dry laugh as she put her hand on her chest, pretending to be offended by haru's sudden ego. she lifted her club into the air, joking that she was going to attack her with it, to which the older girl ran off with the brunette chasing behind. kazuha dropped the object and concentrated on catching kwon, who was further ahead, eventually managing to close the distance enough to reach her sweater and pull it, making her stop running, and then jump on her back. haru held her thighs with her hands so she had something to lean on, and she wrapped her arms around her neck for support.
“i could hit it while carrying you." she assured with plenty of attitude.
“haru, i can see your legs shaking from here.” she contradicted her.
“i'm just nervous in the presence of a pretty girl." she lied with a flirtatious tone. “it's not that i don't have strength.”
"how shameless." she shook her head.
haru approached her club bag, still carrying kazuha on her back with some difficulty, and took out a driver from it. she didn't have much strength, but she had great pride that was forcing her to show that she could make a good tee shot even in that situation. trying to keep the girl in place and not fall, she approached the tee box and got into position. kazuha's leg was in the way when lifting the club, but she still did her best to carry it high and not hurt her during the swing, managing to hit the ball with force and precision without touching the girl, and more importantly, without dropping her.
once she saw the small white object flying through the air, she collapsed, falling to the ground on her knees, unable to support the weight of a human on her back anymore, and being pushed flat when kazuha's body collided on top of her. leaving them both on the ground, they began to laugh at the event that had just happened.
“wow, you're really good at this." spoke nakamura, who was now lying on haru's back.
“it's my vocation." the oldest answered in a low voice due to the little air that was reaching her lungs, with her head on her side, her cheek against the grass.
kazuha let her head fall forward of her, her stare remaining directly on haru's profile. she looked at her for a moment, appreciating her features from up close, forgetting the position they were in. she leaned down and placed her forehead on the girl's temple, closing her eyes and holding them there for a moment while her game partner caught her breath.
she rolled her body to her side, getting off of the girl and facing the sky, enjoying the warm weather and sunny day for a second. she stood up, sitting on the grass, then looked to where haru was still lying, with the hand closest to her, she adjusted her hair, then gave short, soft caresses on her cheek, to finally bent down to leave a kiss on it.
“and that?” haru asked, surprised after the sudden display of affection.
“nothing." she replied simply. “it's just that you made me feel very happy just now and i wanted to thank you.”
haru raised, remaining in the same position as her, wiping the lawn off her clothes. she gave her a tender look and smiled sideways. “it makes me happy that you are happy.” her smile expanded, showing her teeth and causing her eyes to disappear, causing a mirror reaction in the brunette.
kazuha couldn't contain the emotion that haru generated within her. in those months since she had met her and they had become close, her smile had turned into her favorite thing in the world. she was all the time searching for it, telling the girl the best jokes, doing stupid things that she wouldn't do for anyone else just to see it. she couldn't contain the need to shower her with affection all the time, to show her how much someone could adore her.
with her hands against the earth, she pushed herself, landing on her knees and launching herself towards her older one, who hugged her around the waist. kazuha surrounded her shoulders and, since she was thus taller like that, she looked at her from above, meeting her eyes with her own, the shine that haru carried in them was reflected in kazuha's everytime they made optical contact, and in the way the brunette admired her with her eyes, you could tell who her world really was.
“do you know how else you can make me very happy?” she inquired, the excitement generated by the girl's simple existence painted in her tone.
haru nodded, the euphoria impossible to hide on her face, and she moved her body forward to the level where she could touch her mouth with hers, and therefore capture her lips to share their first kiss.
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"love." haru called from inside her apartment, walking towards the balcony, where kazuha was seated in a chair looking at the seoul skyline. “it's merely a job, you're not tied to this guy for the rest of your life.” she took a seat beside her.
“but i don't like him.” she took a couple of grapes from the bunch that haru had just brought in a bowl.
“you never like anyone.” she brought a unit of the fruit to her mouth. “there must be three people in total that you stand.” she gave her a scrutinizing look.
“the only thing that matters to me is that i like you.” the brunette leaned to her side to plant a chaste kiss on her girlfriend's cheek.
“and i like you.” this one responded straightforwardly. “but you need to learn to be more patient.” she advised.
“i'll attempt, but i don't guarantee anything.” she shrugged, to which haru replied with a knowing smile. “i was thinking we could got out for dinner tonight.” she changed the subject.
"sorry, love." she ate another grape. “the boy minhyuk met at the gym dumped him, so we'll go console him.”
“minhyuk gets dumped every week.” she sulked.
“it's not his fault he chooses the most idiotic men.” she defended her friend.
“i'm very certain that if the pattern recurs so frequently the issue must be him.” she reasoned.
“see that you detest everyone?” she remarked, but kazuha just rolled her eyes.
“why did he get broken up with this time? it seemed like this one it was real."
“the man told him he was going too fast.” she informed, making a displeased expression. “like, just say that you don't want any commitment and don't raise the poor boy's hopes.” she spoke with irritation.
"right?" her girlfriend agreed with her. “you wouldn't do that to me, would you?” she changed to a serious tone.
"love." she gave her an incredulous grimace.
“what does that ‘love’ mean?” she raised an eyebrow, interrogating her. “have you imagined a future with me? because i do." she confessed, and haru was silent momentarily. “baby, we're not marrying tomorrow, i just want to know if you see me in your future.”
“clearly i do.” she nodded. “every time i wake up beside you i think that is what i would like for my whole life.” her gaze was filled with tenderness.
“that's the response i was expecting.” she approved with a firm tone and brought another grape to her mouth.
"that's your answer?" haru shouted indignantly. “i admit to you that i wish you to be part of my day to day eternally and you say that?”
"you already know that my universe is you.” she mentioned laughing at haru's reaction.
“forget it, after that reaction i'm not so sure.” she lifted her hand, placing it between them and obstructing her face from looking at her.
"baby." she seized her girlfriend's arm and pulled it down. “you know how in love with you i am.” she slid her palm down kwon's forearm until they intertwined fingers. “you know my dream is to live with you, drive to the club with you every day, kiss you goodnight every night, get married… do you remember where i would like our wedding to be?” she looked at her with furrowed brows.
"in spain." she replied, smiling without realizing it when she heard her girlfriend.
"exactly." she rested her head on her partner's shoulder. “move to a house with a lovely yard, have a daughter, and fight about whether we'll give her a japanese name or not.” they both chuckled. “you know i can't envision a future without you, i didn't think i had to remind you.”
"i love you." haru expressed and then planted a kiss on her head. “the future i dream with is exactly what you just described.” she assured. “i don't wanna grow older without your head on my shoulder.”
"that will not happen." she vowed. “you will listen to me complain about minhyuk until i have to wear dentures.” kazuha envisioned making haru burst into laughter. “and i love you too, by the way.” she kissed her face.
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pixie-felix · 4 months ago
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*holds your hand* Hey, you never have to apologize for not replying right away or at all. We all have lives and a responsibility to take care of ourselves. You gotta put you first. I'm happy you had fun reading tho. I'm just rambling and letting the thots run free xD Hey, I can still read it and understand whether you punctuate or not. Feel free to post what you want. Anything your heart desires. It was a shared project. Much like when I used to rp, we both contributed and fed off each others' input. Elaborate as much as you want because the possibilities are endless. (And I'm gonna read it anyway) I like dragon because I've been hoarding these thoughts and building my own collections in google docs.
brat!Hyunjin? Oh, he's definitely jaw-dropping shocked at first and it turns into an angry pout when he's hung up on. He goes back to pumping Jisung with the fleshlight but he's furiously blowing up mine and Innie's phones because how very DARE we have fun without them and barely give him time to register it before hanging up?! He's angry and upset, speeding up his motions on Jisung who cums not long after that. But Ji joins him when he gets to the pouty sulky phase. Surely I'll be back soon, right? WRONG. Of course they grow remorseful and apologetic and desperate so the messages and calls continue (JiJi is once again on all the apps). I.N's update does NOT help things, but they are extremely sorry. It shows upon my return that afternoon after my phone is finally turned on and I finish a movie with Innie.
---And yes, we love a tied up Han. Love tying Jinnie up too with cute designs in the ropes and pleasuring him as well---
--🍭
I think this might be my favourite thing so far. I mean, apart from everything else you've ever written...
Honestly, I think about this scenario we're building here at least once per day. I say we but it very much feels like you're doing the heavy lifting now 😅 It is amazing and I love you and I love us and I love the Han/Hyunjin vs Innie.
I have thoughts on Innie, but I've already read your next message and I'm saving my thoughts to add to that.
Pissy, pouty Jinnie going feral on Jisung with a fleshlight has got me equally feral. Just taking out his frustration on Hannie's unlucky cock (if that's not a crack fic title staring at me right there I don't know what is.)
What if Hyunjin is feeling particularly cruel, and keeps Jisung tied up after that first orgasm?
He knows you can't be mean to Hannie for long, because he's your precious quokka angel, so he decides to just... torture Hannie. Just a bit. For the greater good, of course: a few videos of your needy sweetheart getting overstimulated to tears with a fleshlight, and you'll come running home, right?
Right?
If it has been a bad mood Hyunjin= bad luck Hannie scenario, Jisung is getting SO pampered when you get home. And Jinnie? Well. He won't be. I don't know what Jinnie's punishment is yet. Is it a mirror thing?
I originally meant that in a mirror image/mirror move sense, as in tying him up and overstimming him like he did to Hannie... but hang on, if we add a mirror to that... cuz he sent videos of Hannie, and now he has to watch himself get wrecked... hrm 🤔 thoughts. Science and thoughts.
In related news, may I suggest, for tying up Jinnie: ribbons. Pretty, silky ribbons. They might not be the tightest/most secure bonds, but that only adds to the fun. Because now he has to use his own self restraint and not thrash himself free, because if he comes out of those ribbons he's not getting ANYTHING. Muwahahahahahaha. Ha.
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not-poignant · 5 months ago
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Stupid question, but I remembered seeing you mention having monthly minimum wordcounts on one of your previous posts and I wanted to ask if you're a professional writer? Because at first I was like "that sounds so stressful"* and then I realized that it makes a lot more sense if you're doing it for a living.
*Also acknowledging that people are different from each other and what is stressful for one person might be productive and useful for another.
I am a professional writer!
My original serials are my job, basically, and they're supported by generous folks at Patreon and Ream. That, in turn, allows me to do this in a more professional and focused way, vs. say just as a hobbyist who doesn't update for 9 months at a time. It also lets me share my works for free, in a fandom friendly manner, which lets me keep doing something I love in a way I love to do it, but in a way which is like...I guess more reliable than you'd necessarily be if you were only doing it for fun.
I can instead pledge high fidelity/loyalty to my main serials through thick and thin (hence my wild author's notes), which means folks following WIPs get to know they'll be finished, and I get to enjoy doing this for a living! It's hard, but it's a good hard. Except for taxes.
As for my monthly minimum, that actually started as a way to break out of the very ableist 'you should write every day' (as a professional writer) which is literally impossible for me and my chronic illnesses. I sometimes have big chunks of time where I can't write, sometimes weeks! And where it would be unhealthy for me to make myself.
(More about my writing process beneath the Read More!)
Alongside that, I have quite severe dyscalculia (think dyslexia but with numbers and directions and left and right lol) so I can't keep a 'running wordcount' because the numbers confuse me too much. Luckily, because my writing life is defined by chapters completed (and not novels), I count the wordcount of every finished chapter only. Unfinished chapters don't count! My growing wordcount per month grows only when that draft is finished (my drafts are clean, so chapters only tend to grow or shrink by about 100-150 words per edit, so give or take it all evens out).
It's not how any other author I know does it, but it works so well for me that I've been doing it for nearly a decade now.
I started the monthly minimum (which currently is 25k words per month) because I tend towards being a workaholic, and so my therapist and I established a minimum not as an unreachable goal that's hard to meet, but as an easy goal that's generally effortless for me to reach in good months, and average months, and even many bad ones. After I hit 25k words per month, if I crash, feel burnt out, feel awful, or life gets Life-y in a bad way, I have permission to stop writing. I can just stop. Everything else is gravy. (Though secretly I always want to hit 30-35k but shhh).
When I hit 50k words, I also have to stop immediately and take a mandatory 3-5 day break from writing even if I want to keep writing. Because I don't know it yet, but I'm probably exhausted on at least some level, lol.
I didn't hit 50k at all last year and there is at least one therapist who would be really proud of me about that even though I feel kind of guilty about it, lol.
Here's an example of my tracking:
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You can see the chapters I've written, which dates I've written them. They're colour coded, so I can see at a glance if I'm writing enough of a story or not. And then on the far right is an addition of every month's wordcount.
April was so low because I took an intentional writing holiday (which I'll be doing again ideally in March this year). December was so low because December sucks.
And then I erase it all at the end of the year and start again. The blank whiteboard is actually very motivating to write that first chapter because I always feel like I haven't done anything until then.
This whiteboard is two feet away from where I write quite literally, and is never moved etc. so I have a yearly tracker basically that's extremely visible (super helpful to my ADHD brain, because if I put this in a spreadsheet I'll stop updating it after 3 weeks and then forget it exists). The colour coding gives me dopamine, so does adding chapters.
Also acknowledging that people are different from each other and what is stressful for one person might be productive and useful for another.
This is true! This is actually the least stressful way of doing things for me.
That being said, anon, it's still super stressful. Being a serial writer is one of the most stressful things you do, because you have constant and never-ending deadlines for years. Novelists can kind of escape this, in a way, because they can't release novels as often as I release chapters. But I have to be mentally switched on at least 8 times a month, re: putting work out there, making sure it's at least semi-polished, making sure I let everyone know, and tracking responses because obviously, unlike a novel, if you lose interest you can't just "skip ahead" you simply lose your readers. A lot of novelists couldn't live or work this way, a) because they couldn't write a hooky serial and b) because many realise that having to update all the time is really exhausting actually. There's a kind of social labour to updating a serial, and getting it Right every single time. One of my greatest fears that I have nightmares about
Serial writing is the most stressful kind of writing I've ever done (and I've done a few different kinds), I just happen to like the adrenaline rush of this kind of writing, and I happen to work well under a controlled level of stress! I know that, because I've been doing this for over 10 years, refining it, figuring out how to make it healthier (it was really unhealthy at first), getting better at it, figuring out my weak points (some of them are still weak points) etc. I actually think I'm pretty good at it now!
I'm also getting better at not thinking my entire career is over if I take 2 weeks off.
I went from being entirely dependent on a Disability Pension, and like, sometimes having to skip meals and doctor's appointments and even medication due to money issues (the Disability Pension is ironically not enough if you have mental health issues because our subsidised healthcare doesn't cover mental health adequately and Australia has no food stamps system), to being able to live a bit more freely and support my chronic health stuff a bit more because of writing this way!
For the first time ever through these stories I was able to afford a psychiatrist, and a few other things I really desperately have needed since I was a teenager. So being able to write like this, even when it's really hard and I'm really tired, feels still like a miracle to me. I've never been well or healthy enough to work a full-time job with typical 9-5 hours, and always kind of was stuck imagining a life where I'm just...never knowing how to afford certain things, to being in a position where I'm fairly confident I can get my meds every month, or pay for my dog's pet food, etc. It's really nice.
But yeah honestly serial writing is the most stressful form of serial writing there is as soon as you lock it in as a professional job where you must meet nearly 10 deadlines every month and you happen to have pretty intense ADHD so deadlines make you scream a little.
Sometimes what is extremely stressful and sometimes even distressing for someone is also extremely productive and rewarding for them too. We probably wouldn't have a lot of emergency surgeons if that were the bar for how we decide what we do!
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p1a9u3 · 1 year ago
Text
PeepHole Ch.1: Moving Day
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Masterpost Ch.1 - Ch.2 Pairing: Dylan Matthews x Fem Oc
Rating: 18+ (mdni)
Genre: Neighbors/Strangers to Lovers, Smut, Angst, Fluff, Slow-burn
Summary: Moving isn't as exciting as Amoya thought, plus she may have pissed off her new neighbor.
Words: 3.2k
Warnings: (This story takes place in 2024) Mental illness (anxiety, ocd), Violent intrusive thoughts, Language, Age gap (5years), Using phone while driving
Status: Unedited
Author note: This is the first fic that I've ever posted, I've written before but I've never finished anything and published it so don't tear me to shreds, please. I chose to make an oc instead of just writing as a reader mainly because I made a whole character in my head before I wrote this so I decided to just make her an oc, if you would like a post going more into this oc of mine feel free to ask (I might post it anyway because I like her), there is no smut in this chapter btw. Please give me feedback and suggestions, constructive criticism, etc. Don't be a bitch about it though...please. I'm thinking of making this a series POSSIBLY, but I procrastinate a lot so that may never happen. To my fellow troublemakers hopefully, I do Dylan justice and my writing is at least a little bit accurate to his personality. Still, to be fair I'm a fairly new troublemaker having only found out about this man a few weeks ago, so if something isn't accurate please correct me...politely. He's become my new hyper fixation so when I saw there aren't really any fics about him I decided I should make my own so here we are. Anyway with that being said Enjoy <3. Update: Dylan is barely in this chapter
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Monday, February 26, 2024 Time: 8:30AM Moving out was less relieving than you thought it would be. Having been by your mother's side for almost all your life, you'd gotten comfortable always having someone around.
'You can't live with your parents forever'
People would remind you whenever the topic of anyone's living situation would be brought up. Being twenty-seven and still living with your mother wasn't something you wanted to keep telling people, no one would take you seriously. Though your mother never pushed for you to move out, never mentioned it actually. You think you know why. You never say anything though, so you deal with the slight embarrassment, and ignore the judgmental stares you get whenever someone brings it up.
'They don't know our relationship'
More excuses you make up to justify your obstinance; and to mask the anxiety you're feeling as finish up packing your U-Haul. You had finished packing your stuff from your shared apartment and were now finishing the few boxes you had in storage. Now in the elevator mustering up the strength to carry the last two boxes back down to the truck. Grabbing the lock you had left on the floor, you place it on top of one of the boxes and stack the box onto the second one, bending down and lifting with a soft grunt. Long strides carrying you to the elevator, you push the down button with your foot. The doors open soon after, you step inside setting the boxes down as you push the bottom floor and wait. Pushing off the wall as the doors open you pick up the boxes once again, you quickly load them up into the U-Haul before grabbing the padlock from on top of the box, and then heading to the front desk of the storage building.
"Here, the unit is clean and empty." You smile at the woman as she takes the lock and keys with a thank you.
Turning on your heels you walk back to your U-Haul giving everything a once-over before locking it all up, now turning your attention to the hitch attached to the back of the Truck where your precious car is hitched too. It was a black and cherry red 1993 Nissan 240SX with a red interior, you had seen it while driving with your mom past a repair shop when you were 25, back then it had no windshield or wheels. You won't lie and say you fixed it yourself but you did invest all the money you had at that time to fix it up and color it how you wanted; you still would say it was worth it. Checking the hitch and chains attached to the bottom of the car making sure everything was set and ready.
"Everything looks good?" Your mother said making you jump
"Yah! A warning ma, please! And yes everything looks good, I packed up the last two boxes and returned the keys and lock to the front desk while you were in the bathroom." You let out a breath calming your heart from the scare you just had, your mom snickering next to you. You turn to her rolling your eyes playfully as you walk to the front of the truck, your mom following behind you.
"Good, let's get on the road." Your mom hops into the passenger seat and rolls down the window. "I wanna get home by Wednesday."
You climb into the driver's seat, buckling your seatbelt then checking your mirrors. You two had agreed on driving to your new apartment, taking turns every 5 hours, once you got there she'd help you unload and unpack on Tuesday, and your mom would then fly back to New Orleans on Wednesday. The more you think about it the more you feel yourself panic a bit.
"Okay."
Time: 9:00AM Starting the car, you let out a breath putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot of the storage building. You could tell your mom was trying to keep herself calm by the way she would rub her right thigh with her right hand, it was a nervous tick she passed down to you. Unfortunately, you were just as nervous, so you decided to turn on the playlist you and your mom made while eating the night before, mixes of all kinds of genres put into one playlist to keep you both entertained during the drive. Pulling off the main road and merging onto the freeway, you glance over to your mom to see her smiling wide looking back at you. She has that look in her eyes, you know it well.
"Its happening ma." You smile back at your mom then look back to the road
Your mother places her hand on your thigh, letting out a long sigh and a soft squeeze before returning it back to her own lap. You see her wipe a single tear from your peripheral; you don't acknowledge it. She'll start bawling the second you tell her not to cry. So you pretend not to see it and start singing along to Erykah Badu, your mom turns the music up a bit and starts singing along too. You smile to yourself as you glance out your side window, watching as familiar buildings pass by in a blur, You think you'll miss this place. No, you know you will, but a part of you is kinda excited, relieved almost. You've silently always longed to live on your own, but another part of you calls you selfish for even wanting that until now
'How could want to leave your mother'
You know it's normal to want to move out of your parent's home, every grown adult has to move out at some point, and twenty-seven is a perfectly normal age to do so, You wanted to move when you were twenty-four. Hell, some people live with their parents till they are far in their thirties.
'But you know your mother may need you right'
All your brothers have moved out, they are doing good on their own, and you're the only one left. It was only a matter of time; you tell yourself. Your mom will be fine, she's dating a new man who treats her great and takes care of her. Hell he tried to hire a moving crew to move all your stuff, but you wanted to do it yourself and your mom wasn't going to let you drive almost halfway across the country by yourself.
'you could've found a place closer to her you know'
Phoenix, Arizona. You chose Phenix simply because it was affordable for you and close to LA, your mom agreed it was a good choice. There is work in LA, California is just so expensive, so you chose the next best thing. The apartment is nice from what you saw as well, one bedroom, two baths with a study. It was perfect for you.
Time: 11:23AM The drive was going well so far, your mother eating a bag of chips she packed along with all the other snacks and drinks. You were eating a Honeybun, one of your favorite snacks, and drinking water. Your mom had turned off the music and started watching YouTube with mostly commentary so you could listen and drive, Right now a video was playing talking about some ice cream drama in North Dakota. Author note: if you watched this video featuring Dylan is in Trouble, I know it's technically in the future but I don't care, this is all fake anyway. You found it interesting and kinda funny, laughing every now and then when your mom would pause to add her opinion. About two-thirds of the way into the video you glance down at the screen, there are two guys now instead of one, and one of them is wearing glasses, you glance back down looking at the title of the video 'Insane Local Ice Cream Shop Drama (w/ Dylan Is In Trouble)' You made a mental note of the second guy's name for later, his voice was nice you told yourself, he was also fine as fuck. You leaned your seat back as far as it would go, which wasn't very far, getting comfortable. You still have two more hours left to drive.
Time: 12:35PM Your mom had fallen asleep about ten minutes ago, YouTube was still playing, The next video had been the same guy as before. You looked down for a second, looking at the title of the video that had been playing for about fifteen minutes. 'Guessing Finales After ONE Episode (ft. Dylan Is In Trouble)' You smile to yourself a bit recognizing the name at the end of the title, you let the video play just listening to the guy talk for ten more minutes. You caught yourself smiling again when you recognized the second guy's voice as he joined in for the rest of the video, you took a sip of your water glancing down at the video, seeing him pop on screen whenever he had something to say
"he's funny." You mutter to yourself quietly, thinking out loud.
The video had ended and your lips fell back into their original position, as an ad played before the next queued-up video, you looked down at your GPS. 1322 miles to go; you let out a sigh.
'200 miles closer to leaving you mom'
She was helping you unpack, so you technically wouldn't be leaving her really. If anything she was leaving you since she had to fly back home. You prop your left elbow on the open window, your left hand holding the steering wheel, and your right hand comes down to your thigh, rubbing small circles back and forth.
'What happens if Devon goes back home'
Your oldest brother Devon was working at a mental facility. He was on his medication and was doing good, he managed to get a job there and has been making decent money. He was doing fine, He is doing fine.
'What if he stops taking his medication again.'
They will keep tabs on him, they know his habits, his symptoms, He is fine.
'Has another episode and gets out'
That wouldn't happen. He's fine
'He'll be there when mom gets back'
No.
"Hes gonna ki-'
-beep! beep! beep!-
Time: 2:00PM Your mom's alarm goes off, making you jump a bit. Reaching over to turn it off, your mom moans a bit as she wakes up from her short nap, stretching her arms a bit as she yawns.
"Jeste li spremni za promjenu." she yawns out, going for a sip of her water ( translation: Are you ready to switch)
Your mother's Croatian tends to slip when she's just woken up, or delirious. You nod your head looking at the next exit sign to find a gas station, spotting a Love's off the side of the freeway. Slipping off the freeway you pull up to the gas station before parking next to a pump.
"Bathroom?" You look over at your mom, she nods, unbuckling her seatbelt and hopping out of the truck, you do the same.
You both enter opposing stalls to relieve yourselves of all the water you had been drinking, washing your hands after. Your mother heads back to the truck to pump the gas as you browse the aisles for any extra snacks, spotting a honeybun you instinctively grab one, then two, and head to the cashier. You place your honeybuns on the counter and then look up at the cashier who seems to be invested in something on her phone, she wasn't wearing headphones phone volume at maybe thirty percent, you could hear what she was watching. You recognize the voice, the cashier finally looks up from her phone quickly apologizing for not paying attention.
"Oh I'm so sorry, will this be all" She quickly rings up the two honeybuns.
"No you're fine, that'll be it actually." You dismissively wave your hand pulling out your wallet to pay.
Looking down you notice her phone, she had put it on the counter, and the video on it had been paused but on the screen was that guy again, though it seemed to be a video of his own this time. You pull out some cash and hand it to the young woman behind the counter, she takes the cash, counts it, and then goes to get your change.
"No, it's fine, keep the change" Flashing a smile then grabbing your honeybuns you take another glance at the women's screen before it turns off from being left alone for too long.
Opening the passenger seat door, you climb into the seat buckling yourself in. Pulling out of the gas station your mom pulls off back onto the freeway continuing your journey. You pull out the bag you had brought for little activities, pulling out your book of choice. You had splurged at a Barnes and Noble a few weeks before you began packing, picking up a bunch of books you had either heard good things about or had been wanting to read. Red Rising was one of the books, it was also the one you were currently holding.
"I'm gonna put my headphones on, so you can listen to whatever you want." You tell your mom as you put your headphones on and pull out your phone.
You had gotten the book on Audible a while back and wanted to read and listen at the same time. Pressing play you turn to the first chapter and begin reading as the narrator spoke. Your mom seemed to have put music on, you could feel the bass as she turned up the volume and began singing along.
Time: 10:56PM Hours had passed, it was your turn now with two hours left till your next switch. Your mother was knocked out, lightly snoring as you drove in silence, you had stopped reading once you had switched. You also decide to put off reading it until you were moved in, the book had grabbed your attention, so much so, that you wanted to be able to focus on it solely; so you chose to wait. You had a couple hundred miles left to go and things were sinking in more as you drove silently. Your mind doing its usual thing, making you worry about things that most likely won't happen, even if it did, you know it wouldn't be your fault. You couldn't help but think maybe it would be though, it was a dumb thought but you couldn't help it
'What was that guys name again'
Your brain blanked for a second, random but ok, your brain goes back to the YouTube video your mom had been watching, that cashier was watching him as well. Dylan is in Trouble, you wonder what kind of videos he makes, most likely commentary. You pull your phone out glancing down and go to YouTube, you use the voice to text and hold your phone up to your mouth.
"Dylan is in trouble"
You press search, going back and forth between looking at your phone and watching the road. You look down to find his channel, press his icon, and scroll through some of his videos. Movie commentary is what you mostly see, occasionally you'd spot something different, you decided you'd dive into his channel later when you weren't driving.
Time: 5:00AM You were in the driver's seat, you had let your mom sleep more after she had been driving for about three hours. She was up now though, you could tell things were starting to catch up to her again. She was fidgeting a lot more now, well so were you, she looked very tense. She helped you find this apartment, but you assume she wants to see the neighborhood for herself, in person, wants to see how good the security is and what the neighbors are like. It's only natural, she's a mother and her only daughter is moving twenty hours away from her. You look down at your phone, your GPS says you are pulling up now, you look around the area, it was very nice, wasn't too far from the city. You spot the complex to the left, it was pretty big with multiple sections with apartments, you were building three, kind of in the middle of everything. You pull into the complex parking in front of the leasing office to speak to your landlord and to get your keys, your mom comes with you of course, sizing everything up.
"Hi welcome to Arts District Apartments, it's Amaya correct, my name is George?" An old-looking man stands from his desk, his hand reaching out to shake yours
"Thank you, George, it's Amoya actually" You reach out and shake his hand with a smile.
You two talk a bit about the complex and its rules etc. Your mom chimed in every now and then to ask her questions. Before you know it you're unloading the truck into your new apartment, you're realizing now that you didn't have as much stuff as you thought. The last thing you had left was your bed, you and your mom had been doing well with just the two of you, but after you two had gotten the mattress inside your mother's back began to bother her. Now you had your bed frame, you told your mom to relax for now and that you could get the frame up yourself. Partial lie, you previously took apart the bed frame and so there were mainly long pieces that weren't too heavy except the backboard, that thing was heavy as fuck, luckily you had a dolly at the storage building to help you carry it out, but now you have to carry it to the elevator and down the hall. You managed to get it down from the truck, and from there you lifted it and sped walked to the elevator, almost dropping the bed frame on your foot as you set it down to push the button. The doors had closed on you twice as you tried to pick the frame back up and lift it into the elevator, but alas you made it, now on the third floor and outside the elevator. You took pride in your body, you considered yourself strong, regularly went to the gym, and you would say your legs were the strongest part of your body, with that being said, you tried to make as little noise as possible since it was still early in the morning, you lost your footing. You were almost there, your door being right in front of you; but you fell. Landing on the door behind you hitting your head with a very loud thud.
"Bumbo." You whisper yelled at yourself in Jamaican as you set the frame down and leaned off of the door. (translation: Fuck)
Holding the frame upright you walk around it reaching for your door, the frame slipping from your fingers and falling against your neighbor's door again. You prayed that your new neighbor was either a very deep sleeper or wasn't home right now, though maybe you didn't pray hard enough. You lift the bed frame from your neighbor's door, getting your phone to get your mom to hold the door open for you so you can slide it the rest of the way inside. Stopping, you hear the door behind you click open. Your bed frame blocked your view of whoever had stepped out, but you could hear him.
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Ch.1 - Ch.2
Updated Author note: Hopefully this was an enjoyable first chapter or part. The apartment is just a random apartment complex I saw on Zillow, everything in this is all fictional besides the YouTube videos and things that are obviously real. Anyway, I have decided to make this a series, I've gone into too much detail on little things like Amoya's intrusive thoughts and all that, and it'd be a waste to shorten and delete half of what I put and speed through everything, Amoya's intrusive thoughts and anxiety is a trait I added from myself, so you'll notice a lot of internal thinking and scenarios she makes up in her head. Hopefully, the idea is as cool as what I thought of in my head. If this does well, I will upload the other chapters one after the other, If it does bad I'll just delete everything, but please be patient I procrastinate a lot and I want the writing to be good. Please be honest and let me know how you all feel about this, if you like the writing, the main character, the pacing, the storyline, length, anything, and everything, I need criticism but don't be a bitch about it.
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illumiera · 4 months ago
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tagged by @lathez, @sulphuricgrin, @kiir-do-faal-rahhe, @theoneandonlysemla, and @umbracirrus—thank you! 💖
tagging: @pinessydr, @madam-whim, @bostoniangirl21, and @bougainvillea-and-saltwater!
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[This week Sujamma has been brushing up on his literacy. It's hard being a humble Nix-Hound. Reading doesn't come naturally to him, but he's doing his best! This week Sujamma is hoping you will help him learn to read!
Post a favorite scene, favorite sentence, favorite dialogue, favorite anything from any fic you've written! If you haven't written any fic, feel free to share your ideas. If you don't have any, recommend a friend's fic!]
i'm more than happy to help out our beloved sujamma, so below is what might be one of my favourite scenes i've written so far! this is an excerpt from chapter two of i fear no fate (for you are my fate), in which elentari and miraak meet in yet another dream. here, he learns the real reason why she hasn't returned to apocrypha for their great battle: because she knows that for herma-mora to grant her the last word of bend will, storn crag-strider of the skaal will have to give up his life... but miraak has a solution for that. for purely pragmatic purposes, of course! 👀
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“You defy your birthright to preserve Paarthurnax. Now you stall just to keep one man alive.” Miraak’s voice seizes her attention; his masked gaze is locked on her as if to decode her. “Why?”
“I don’t… I don’t want more death on my hands,” she tells him, and she doesn’t let herself think of Mother and Father and Nienna and how she could have saved them if she hadn’t been so weak, she doesn’t, she doesn’t. “Not if I can help it, and not when I’d be going into this knowing that I’d be—” Leading an innocent man to such a terrible end, she means to say, but there’s a lump in her throat and she can’t trust the words to come out the way they should. Dragging in a fortifying breath, she forces all feeling from her expression and finishes, “Doom this man and offer up the Skaal on a silver platter, or do nothing to break your control over the Tree Stone, sit by as the people there toil their lives away for you, and prove myself unworthy of the name Ysmir. It’s a conundrum, isn’t it?”
“It is,” he agrees matter-of-factly. “Unless I were to teach you the final Word.”
A too-eager “You would?” tumbles from her lips before she can rein herself in, and then she frowns. “But why teach me a Shout that could so easily be used against you?”
“You would not try to command me,” is his immediate response, and he—known and unknown, stranger-who-is-not-a-stranger—sounds so very sure of her and who she is that she once again feels helplessly, inescapably looked-into. “Besides, it is in my best interest to do so, is it not? You are crucial to my escape, but there is little I can do if you insist upon straying so far from me.”
She’s tempted. Here, it seems, is a solution that means nobody will be hurt who does not already deserve it, not until she returns to Apocrypha and faces the inevitable—but if Elentari has learned anything from folktales and fairy-stories, it’s that no offer made in the middle of the night ever comes without a price. “What do you want in exchange?”
“You know what I want, rinisili,” Miraak replies almost gently. “Come. This will be easier for us both if I can touch you. To share.”
Touch her? Her heart swoops in her chest like a fledgling testing its downy-feathered wings; she thinks again of when he’d pressed into it on Solstheim, and how the dragon in her had railed against its cage of ribs in time with the hammering of her pulse. Mara preserve her, she’s too curious to resist, but Miraak does nothing, just waits for her to make the first move. She sets her jaw, shoves aside all fears of being out of her depth and all worries of there being an entire ritual to what he’s proposing that she’s never been taught, lifts her left hand, and holds it palm out so that he may do with it as he must.
Slowly, deliberately, he reaches for the cuff of his right glove and slides it off. As he exposes first a stretch of strong forearm dusted with silvery scars and fine golden hair—and that in itself is a revelation, that her counterpart is, or was, a blond—then a flash of wrist, then at last, at last his whole hand, Elentari sees that although he is a man after all, not some draugr-like creature as Lucien had suggested, he’s been… changed.
His skin is pale, lighter even than hers, which burns in summer without a protective salve and flushes pink to the ears in the cold, but at his knuckles, ghost-white bleeds into stained flesh. It appears pure black at first, but the longer she looks, the more colours she can make out, as though he has dipped his fingers into a calligrapher’s inkpots over and over again: charcoal, jewel-deep green, purple as rich as jazbay wine, the indigo that fills the sky in the quiet before dawn. Tipping them are nails like claws in those same oil-spill shades, and though they’re sharp enough to slice her, she knows without needing to be told that he would not. And his stare—it’s so weighty that it could almost be another presence wedged between them. His eyes are fixed on her and not his own gradual uncovering, watching to see if she’ll skitter back in revulsion or if she’ll rise to the challenge he’s wordlessly set for her.
Elentari stays perfectly still.
She’s afraid, but not of him and the marks Apocrypha has left on him.
She’s afraid of what she might feel when she lets his bare skin touch her own, because something tells her that it will alter her in a way she cannot take back.
Her gaze flicks up to his, challenging him in return. Well?
Miraak raises his hand and reaches out for hers, but allows her one last chance to back down, leaving an inch-wide gap between them that she must bridge herself. It’s funny, but since he’s such a broad-shouldered giant of a man, she’d expected him to have a swordsman’s hands, all rough and blunt, but aside from a few calluses, they’re almost a musician’s or a scholar’s, slim-fingered and… soft, she thinks as their palms meet. So soft, and so warm, and—
—and so right. In that moment, Elentari forgets how to form words, or even how to think. Her whole being—every sensation and every heartbeat and every bit of air in her lungs—narrows down to that point of contact, and when his frame rocks with a fierce shudder, she feels it as if it’s in her own bones. It’s like releasing a breath, like an onrush of clarity that shifts the world from greyscale to glorious technicolour, like she could sprout a pair of wings to rival the solar radiance of his Dragon Aspect, like—
—like her soul has somehow been waiting for this longer than she’s had a body.
“Krosis, mal dovahdin. I have not done this before,” he says, and his voice is hoarse and strange. He betrayed no reaction when she leapt out of her rented bed brandishing the strongest flame spell she knew, one that would have surely burned both him and the inn in which they stood to ash had such a thing been possible in a dream, but now, she has rattled him with a single soft touch of her fingers. “Dreh ni vos zey bo. You must not let go until I say.”
I won’t, she thinks she replies, or maybe she doesn’t need to. Maybe it’s enough that she remains where she is, undaunted and unflinching even when his magic takes hold of her.
Light glows from the centre of his chest and twines itself down his arm in tongues of molten gold and luminous ethereal blue. It pools where their hands connect and in the tiny chinks of space that separate him from her, shining as if they’re keeping a star caged between them, then wreathes around her wrist, the crook of her arm, the place where her shoulder meets her collarbone, until it reaches her heart. She can’t contain her gasp as it pours inside her, all flaring heat and dizzying energy, and must close her eyes against a rush of power so intense that it almost sweeps her away with bliss and terror both. Once it becomes too much for her to bear, once she’s certain that she’ll take flight and soar if she endures it even a second longer, she sees before her a clawed-out word blazing as though written in soul-flame, and knows its meaning as she knows her own name.
“Dov.”
[rinisili = my same-soul krosis, mal dovahdin = apologies, little dragon-maiden dreh ni vos zey bo = do not let me go]
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tyrantchimera · 23 days ago
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⭐️ about Finders Keepers! I’d love to hear anything you have to share from behind the scenes! :D
"Send in a ⭐star⭐  to have the author select a section they’ve been dying to talk about!" Welp, I see a star there! Plus a request for behind-the-scenes info? Here I go!! Let's start with a fun bit of statistics: Finders Keepers was originally published April 13, 2022. Interestingly, between April 1, 2019 to April 12, 2022 (AKA the 3 years previous to release), it seems that 45 works were made/updated for the Rockman ZX fandom tag on AO3. Since then (for just over the three years after release), I searched and found about 76 works published/updated after FK's release date. It may be a coincidence, or just me not using AO3's search function properly, but it's also possible that Finders Keepers has been responsible for helping revive the MegaMan ZX fandom!!
The crazy part about this is that I almost didn't publish the fic. I'd originally intended to finish writing the thing first so that I could edit older chapters as ideas popped up, or as ideas in later chapters required foreshadowing in earlier chapters. (Nowadays if I miss an idea that I wish was in an earlier chapter, I will write a bonus ficlet for FKK.) But then @delightful-69 published these images as a response to, I believe? Discussion about the manga chapter released in March 21, 2020. (This was the reprint of the Megaman/Rockman ZXA manga, which featured a chapter with Model O Aile! I think that's when it released though I might be off on that number.) After seeing that, I felt it would be fine to publish the first chapter or two, just to show that I was feeling the hype too! ....And then things snowballed.
Wait. I've been publishing this thing for 3 years already? Yikes! Time sure flies!!
Now for actual behind-the-scenes info! I have actually written up to chapter 27. I'm currently working on 28, and suspect this fic will end somewhere in the 30's. Adding to that, I currently have 2 bonus chapters for FKK ready to go to! That's a buffer of 9 chapters! Now why do I have such a massive buffer? Well, to be brutally honest, sometimes I can't get myself to write for literal months. So it's nice to have some chapters ready for backup! If I write a chapter or two in a month, usually I will update every month. But if I don't write anything, I usually update every 2-3 months. On that note, you can expect the next FK chapter at the beginning of July!
Now for something I think is fun to talk about, but no one has actually noticed: Vent is 'racist' towards mavericks. This is an extremely understandable perspective mind you! Most civilians, and even a lot of non-civilians, view mavericks as little more than mindless monsters. You can see this most obviously in chapter 20, where Vent is thinking about Aile's father and goes, "It was just a maverick." It feels like no one really caught this!! It's sort of a reflection of one of my biggest gripes with the MegaMan series: The bosses are so cool design-wise, but they're never anything more than a roadblock to the player? Cool design, couple of lines, and that's it. The Pseudoroids, mutos reploids, etc, they never feel like they're treated like the characters they deserve to be, just a sideshow and challenge for the player. For anyone worried about this, don't you worry! Vent will get a tune-up. I just felt like this was a perspective that would and should be looked at when doing introspection on the character's motivations for Finders Keepers.
I hope you've all enjoyed this behind-the-scenes tidbit! Feel free to message me if you'd like to know more about any of the scenes!
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08melancholie · 7 months ago
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Hello! I've read a lot of your works, and I love them,
I was wondering if you could write something that has the reader’s admiration and almost worshipful awe for Micah’s boots(like licking them, being stepped on, etc.) with him also maybe hurting or insulting the reader as well, fully aware of the effect he has. A bit of hair-pulling would also be nice.
Thank you so much!
OOOH i love the filth of this sm 🙏🙏
i like to push the boundaries of my writing and i feel like this type of thing will do it perfectly for me as ive never written anything related to boot worship just yet and i absolutely needed an excuse to try it :) as always, thank you for the ask!
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Spurs and Leather. — Micah Bell/Reader
tags: Micah Bell Being an Asshole, Micah Bell Is His Own Warning, Top Micah Bell, Dom/sub Undertones, Hair-pulling, Boot Worship, Sexual Tension, Blow Jobs, Grinding, on the boot... yeah., this fic is making me realise some things about myself, Degradation, Praise-Degradation, Spanking, Overstimulation, Orgasm, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Not Beta Read, no beta we die like micah bell
summary: Your knees turn a lighter, bruised color from kneeling on the floors of your tent so long, but his degrading words and harsh manner make you stay put. His boots shimmer at you, making you want more. Worship him like a God, and you might get yourself a small reward this night to go with your colourful bruises and other love marks.
a/n: oh boy this is something to write about.... feel like ill need a long overdue visit to church. EDIT: i finished this four hours before i had to wake up for church. yeah it didnt feel right at all
words: 2,472 | AO3 LINK
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Things tend to always escalate with Micah around. Whether jobs and missions or sex, it'll go somewhere you wouldn't expect it to. Likewise for tonight, where he's got you fully nude before him while just watching, still clothed himself. Micah was a man into many different things in bed—spanking, per say. You don't remember which night, so far, left your ass the same color as the rest of your body—mostly always ending a more bruised color from his harsh slaps and blows, always soothed with his rough hand caressing your cheeks.
But you were no saint either; you had your own array of sick fantasies yourself, too.
"Well, 'ya know you want to, sweetheart,"
His words echo in your head, looking up at him on your shared cot from your spot on the ground, kneeling for him. His hand is on the top of your head, first gently running through the many locks of hair on it, before he makes a ponytail with the strands and tugs back slightly. "and I know it too. Get to it, give in." Your hair is let to rest slightly, though his hand doesn't fully release it just yet.
The sliver at the tip of his boot reflects the light of the dim-lit lantern in a corner inside the tent, and you can almost see your own reflection in it, only if they were polished better or washed more often. His hand kneads at your scalp and he sprays his legs a bit more out; closer to you. You know what to do.
Your back arches with you when you lean downwards to his shoes, not daring break eye contact with him. The metal tip is always the cleanest of any other part—thankfully, because of yourself and this usual endeavour. His erection twitches in his trousers when he sees your tongue flatten out over his shoe, licking a quick yet fine stripe on the metal. That flushed, embarrassed and downright humiliated look on your sweet face makes it even harder for him to not bend you over the cot and fuck any other thought out of your head; to leave himself and himself only on your mind, all the time. Oh, how he'd love that. Even if you look embarrassed, he knows your sweetness is a façade; you're loving this. You want to keep doing it, he knows how hot it gets you to treat his boots like a starved man would bread and water. He palms himself through his jeans, watching that hypnotising motion of your tongue painting saliva over his boot. Your focus is on only one of his two shoes, which is simply unfair to Micah. He pokes the tip of the other into your cheek, watching your eyes dart between them with a sinister chuckle. "Give 'em both some of your sweet, sweet love, hun."
From one to the other, the two shoes now share a small string of your saliva. You don't even know if you've blinked since you started treating his boots like so, but you can't even focus on that when you have to try your hardest to keep your eyes on his—and not his throbbing cock, practically pleading against the restraint of his zipped trousers. Micah isn't as cruel to himself as to you, as he groans and reaches for the restraints of his jeans, undoing them slightly sloppily. "Think it's 'bout my turn with that pretty little mouth, huh?" He frees himself out of the restraining material of his pants and shuffles them down more comfortably, not having to order you again yet again as you sit up and place your hands on his thighs, waiting for his little signal to taste the throbbing, precum-leaking shaft just inches from your hungry, almost salivating mouth.
Your little facial expression draws a low chuckle out of him, his cock giving another little throb. "C'mere then, bet you're real hungry." With the permission, you lower your head between his thighs and lick the tip, collecting a hefty amount of the precum dripping out of it. The salty liquid paints your tongue, smearing and helping slicken Micah's member when you lick a stripe up the throbbing body part. He gives you an approving nod, and you take the tip into your mouth, your eye-contact not faltering a single time when his mouth parts with a small pop at the feeling of you swirling your tongue around him. "Teasing me, little whore? Yeah, still haven't learned how bad of an idea that is, have 'ya?" He growls, gripping you by the hair tighter, the line between painful and pleasurable blurring significantly. He pushes you down his cock until you gag, gripping his thighs from the motion. "Oh, don't give me that; you always take me like a cheap street slut so this should be nothing for you, 'ya know?" Some of your saliva drips down your jaw when Micah's hips start thrusting up, his tip tapping lightly against the back of your throat with every push of his hips into your face. You see stars, per usual, gripping onto his thighs to ground yourself enough to not gag all over his cock as it pistons in and out of your mouth, the lower abdomen region repeatedly lightly slapping against your face with each quick thrust.
His pace is relentless and almost bruising, but you don't dare move even an inch—anything could make him stop the fun and leave you unsatisfied, before it's even truly started. You stay stiff in your spot, drooling and humming moans against his dick as he face-fucks you, essentially. You're so pent up yourself that your cunt is practically aching, for anything. And anything you will get.
You gasp and gag once more on Micah from the surprising feeling of a cold sensation suddenly pressing onto your clit, that being the tip of Micah's boot. And he just laughs in response, positioning it under you. "Get to it. Get yourself off on every part of me, fuck." He curses at the thought, biting his lip. "Oh yeah, do it." He repeats, brushing the boot against you again. You move up a bit, from the metal to the leather before you give a quick roll of your hips to test it out. It's rough, but it draws you to moan and for your hips to twitch for more, so you comply.
He continues to fuck your mouth in a bruising pace, all the while muffling your sounds of pleasure as you roll your nub and wet pussy over his boot, drawing yourself closer by the minute. "Fuck yeah, girl. Keep moving them hips, oh God," He rambles breathily, punctuating himself with a thrust into your mouth each few words. He grips your hair harder as time goes on, usually the indication that he's close, and to warn you of it. A few moments pass before you feel his hot cum shoot at the back of your throat and hear him groan, using the tight hold on your hair to push you down fully on his cock as he empties his balls into your mouth, not much caring for the protesting gags of your body—but you don't care either, anyhow. Once he finally lets go of you, you slip him out of your mouth and swallow before clearing your—probably bruised—throat, and starting to move off his boot. That's when he grabs you by the arm.
"Oh, no. You didn't cum, did 'ya?" He asks, using the hold on your arm to perch you back over his boot. "What, 'ya think I'm that cruel, won't let you finish?" He says with a small laugh, leaning back on the bed. "Make yourself cum for me. On my boot, nothing else." He orders, and you're torn between wanting his cock or his boot getting you off. And while you love getting fucked into by Micah's thick shaft, those boots do something to you.
You position yourself over his boot, and Micah takes your wrists into his hand—to make sure you get yourself off only on the oh-so precious leather shoe of his. Heat already builds in your abdomen when you brush your clitoris over the material to get situated on him, and it's even more prominent when you start moving again, grinding your sensitive sex on the leather. With Micah's dick out of your mouth, your moans are much more clear; whining and groaning to punctuate every thrust over his boot, hands and fingers clenching, sometimes digging into his hand holding your wrists and preventing you from touching him or yourself to get your orgasm going.
"That's it, move them hips. These boots will smell like your sweet cunt for weeks, won't even wash them." He rambles on as he watches you, his once-more-hard cock twitching and leaking again, eyeing you with mesmerised eyes as you lean your head back and moan almost pitifully from how your sensitive nub drags across the rough leather beneath itself, pleasure quickly mixing with the small stinging leaving you torn between stopping and giving your poor, bruised clit a break—or getting an orgasm out of yourself. Is your orgasm worth the slight hint of pain? Apparently so.
You speed up your hips just enough to draw yourself to that long-awaited orgasm, leaning forward into his lap as you cum over his boot, a whine leaving your parted lips straight into one of his thighs as you lean over onto him, dragging your orgasm out until you have to stop. Micah has been patting your head, like a dog, since you leaned into his lap, watching your hips twitch as you soak his boot. "Well, ain'tchu a sight.." He murmurs, but as always, you don't get a long enough break to count your stars.
Micah releases your wrists to get you up on the cot, laying you flat on your stomach as he places his hands on your hips, positioning them up slightly. Like the asshole Micah is, he gives a firm slap to your backside, laughing when you yelp and arch your back more. "What, you think I'm done? Come on, I gotta help.. ease yer nerves, after all that." He purrs, punctuating himself with another spank. You groan and your oversensitive pussy twitches, hands gripping the sheets. Micah positions your hips a little higher, and spreads your knees so that you're on display for him, gaining himself a good view of your soaked cunt and ass, which he gladly takes in for a moment before he rubs your clit with his thumb. You let out a pitiful whimper, still not nearly recovered from your high. "Micah, I'm not—" You almost huff out loud when he shushes you and awards the next slap to your cunt, your nub stinging from it as you gasp-whimper at him. He soothes the stringing by resuming the rubbing on your clitoris, brushing two fingers perfectly over it, enough to have your knees get weak and muscles to quiver and tremble under his touch. "Mm, look at that.. already shivering for me, and I've barely touched this pretty cunt." He hums quietly, pinching your clit which has you almost drooling into the sheets under you.
He shuffles onto the bed behind you while pulling and pinching, then slowly rubbing over you, before he stops to flip you over. Micah's met with your flushed, sweaty face and uneven, quickened breathing. "This is your best look, sweetheart—trust me on that." He comments with a small chuckle, before he leans down between your now-parted thighs. Your head rolls back when he instantly and roughly sucks on your bundle of nerves. You gasp and moan, arching off the bed as Micah places both hands on your inner thighs to keep them open, stopping your weak attempt at clasping them closed on him. His tongue runs a fine stripe between your labia's, drinking up the aftermath of your previous orgasm as your muscles spasm with every inch of your sensitive cunt his tongue covers. Your hands grasp at his hair, unsure if you want to push his head in closer or away to give yourself a break. Either way, Micah's head doesn't move an inch, devouring your pussy like his life depends on it. Your back isn't even on the cot anymore, it's hovering over the sheets as your moans become even more incoherent, gasping and heaving as you twitch your hips up into Micah's face, the overstimulation causing tears to form in the corners of your eyes. Like shit, you might be meeting God if he continues eating you out like this.
Micah isn't letting up for even a moment, his tongue drags between your lips, circles your clit or fucks into your entrance, as you sob and mewl under him desperately, slowly seeing stars again as your second orgasm quickly approaches, causing your legs to soon practically give out on you. Clearly, this doesn't bother Micah one bit—as he holds you up to his mouth to continue eating you out. You've been reduced to a whimpering mess by now, the tears in your eyes rolling down one cheek from the stimulation, and Micah's determined to get you to cum a second time.
He keeps one hand open on your inner thigh, the other snaking around to knead at your ass as he sucks on your clit hard, raising the volume of your moans to a whole new volume. You're practically howling at this point, and he's still not even tempted to let up.
It doesn't take him too long to finally draw that blissful second orgasm out of you, your legs spasming as you squirt and arch off the bed completely again. Micah fucks you through the orgasm, tongue delving between your walls as if drinking out of your pussy, collecting every drop your orgasm is offering him. He finally lets you rest after your eyes roll back slightly, and he sees you're finally too exhausted to continue. He kisses your mound before parting from between your soaked legs, and the damp sheets underneath you. He almost laughs at the sight of you so out of it, proud to know it's him getting you so foggy-brained. "That's my girl, always lettin' 'ol Micah get what he wants outta 'ya. Good fuckin' lady." He praises as he stands up to get a clean rag for the two of you, coming back and first wiping you down. "Need somethin'? Water, or.. think I got some crackers in 'ere somewhere." You thank him and he gets up to grab you the items, all the while collecting your clothes and tucking himself away, uncaring of the new erection in his pants.
This man can drive you insane, but damn—can he also make you see stars.
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Kudos on AO3 heavily appreciated!!! This fic has been put off for a very long time because I was scared of writing boot worship, as I've literally never done it before, but I think I did fine! Do tell me what you think anyhow <3 Thank you for the request, anon!
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thebardbullseye · 3 months ago
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Steel, Scrying, and the Presumption of Death: “Who Knows What” and “Who Knows When”
From the desk of TheBardBullseye
Editor's Note 3/17/25: I originally privated this post on 3/6/25 bc I was concerned about spreading potential spoilers even with the lengthy disclaimer below, but then I couldn't share it with ppl who just wanted to read it. So I've turned off reblogs. Carry on/enjoy :)
TL;DR: Alright, I think I’ve unraveled some secrets and put some pieces together. I have to talk about Steel as of episode 43 of The Wizard, The Witch, and The Wild One, “Speak With Animals.” But first, I have to talk about scrying. And how absolutely crucial it is to consider the compartmentalization of information: “who knows what” and “who knows when.” And further, “who says what” and “who says when.” Episode spoilers abound; major plot-relevant speculation and theorizing afoot. Do not read this essay if you do not want to read about potential future reveals about Steel (if I am correct in my speculating and theorizing). I have done my level best to be fair, balanced, accurate with citations, and not misconstrue information in my analysis (except where it is explicitly noted as pure speculation). And here’s my caveat that this essay is a crunchy analysis of transcripts and mechanics, and I fully acknowledge that this story is written with improv and dice rolls: things can change, be walked back, or recontextualized in the future for any number of reasons. Strap in, this is a very long essay (over 11,000 words with footnotes, please read those too!).
An extremely critical note before you read this essay: First, thank you very much for reading! 😊 I welcome any and all constructive comments, and please point out anything that I might have not considered. I thought long and hard about posting this argumentative essay publicly after I finished it, even though I put a lot of time and effort into researching, writing and editing it. This is a very, very long essay, and please take time to read it carefully (if you decide to read it). I feel like I put a lot of pieces together that could be revealed in the near or distant future (depending on how the rest of Arc 4 goes), and this will be a fun time capsule for me to revisit in the future. If I am correct, I do not want to spoil this for people who don’t want to be spoiled, and I hope the warning in the above TL;DR combined with the length of this essay will hopefully scare those folks away. As such, please take care if/when you discuss my theory with others publicly who have not read this essay, so as to not potentially spoil others if I am correct (i.e., if this breaches the containment of this essay in the comments/reblogs/and other online discussions—there’s a lot of nuances in here that will get lost if watered down, and I stress that none of this is yet confirmed and you should not take this as gospel). You have been warned; this is not to be self-aggrandizing; I am just Too Aware that you can't un-ring this bell. Further, if I am right, I don’t want to spoil Brennan’s plans to reveal things about Steel at a later point, but all of this information was gleaned and cited directly from the transcripts and episodes that have been publicly released and contextualized within the rules of D&D. He doesn’t strike me as a ‘Game of Thrones (HBO)’ kind of storyteller to throw away a narrative that has been built up just because someone on the internet (maybe) figured it out before it could be fully revealed. And if I’m wrong about Steel, then I just had a lot of fun with some red string and a corkboard. And that’s what makes this podcast so damn good—there’s so many strings. 🧡
You can support and listen to Worlds Beyond Number at: www.patreon.com/worldsbeyondnumber and can use the transcripts to check my work on the fan wiki: https://worldsbeyondnumber.miraheze.org/wiki/The_Wizard,_the_Witch,_and_the_Wild_One_episodes (these are available on the public patreon feed as well, but the wiki is easier to navigate imo).
If you don’t want to be spoiled but want to read a different essay I wrote about this show, you should check out my literary essay praising Just the Recap at the beginning of Episode 10, “Of the Reaching Green.” (FYI this does have spoilers for all of Arc 1, but not speculative)
I also recently posted an arrangement I wrote of The Rain Road and Auld Lang Syne, if you want to give that a listen: https://youtu.be/Z2Hv6p70r7s
Twenty-two Scry spells. Twenty-two failed Scry spells. How many times do you try the same thing before giving up hope? But it turns out that hope is not lost. Then why haven’t you said anything?
I started writing and outlining this essay several months ago when episode 33 of The Wizard, The Witch, and The Wild One aired, but it has been sitting buried and unfinished because of life stuff until now—it took the earthquake that was “Speak With Animals” to unearth it. In “The Witness,” Suvi cast Identify on herself to see if there was any magic affecting her because of her inexplicable shenanigans with the music box. In this scene, she discovers a lot of magical information about herself, notably (for the immediate moment) the modify memory and the Geas, that we the audience (and Aabria) already knew about. But there was one monumental reveal reminiscent of “Barbarian Healing” (see footnote 1, warning for D20 spoilers) to me: there are many failed scrying spells cast on her from the Citadel, four aimed at her father’s Ring of Aerith that she uses to pull and store spells and “two and twenty” (i.e., 22) aimed at her heart; the former set of spells as old as yesterday, the latter from months ago before she arrived in Port Talon, and, why didn’t someone follow up on that? Suvi learns that her necklace with the flawless sapphire pendant stops scrying from not only Great Spirits like Orima, but also the Citadel and was crafted by Wren, Stone, and Galt (see footnote 2). This, combined with the modify memory and Geas (and everything else up to ep 33), is cause for concern and kicks off Suvi’s questioning of the institution of her home. But there’s a more concerning and an important difference to unpack about the two sets of scrying orbiting her ring and heart: what is the question being asked by the Citadel?
Identify and Scry: Who Are You and Where Are You?
The four scrying spells around her father’s ring are mentioned first in the Identify spell and are about a day old. This is because Suvi had cast magic without the reflexive indicative (i.e. a shortened, quicker way of casting using a ‘null clef’ that removes the self from the casting of the spell, at least as I understand it) and had pulled the spell slot from the Aerith (the big communal pool of wizard juice) the previous day. Thus, it follows that the Citadel would have scried to see who was casting these spells, and (pure speculation) perhaps this kind of alert system is automatically triggered (i.e., by a high-level Tamori?), or maybe it was cast by a higher-level (at least ninth) diviner in Kabani. (I’m sure that this will come back at some point and certainly not cause any problems for Suvi…) This is a red flag, a blip on the radar, asking “Who are you?”, and the Citadel gets no reply.
The 22-odd spells from months ago are much, much bigger red flags, the question being: “Where is Suvi?”, and the Citadel gets no reply. To complicate things further, nobody ever mentioned to Suvi once she made contact that the scrying had failed. You would think it would be a Big Fucking Problem that the (first-level-at-the-time) Apprentice to the Archmage Silence is unable to be scried upon or located, especially with so many failed attempts and discovering that in fact she was Alive. Further, it is alarmingly pointed out to her that someone at the Citadel should have mentioned the failed scrying or followed up, but as of episode 43, no one has. I’ll get to the meat and mechanics of this in a moment, but let’s back up a bit.
Checking the Transcripts
Now, this is episode 33. Suvi first met Galani and had the mirror conversation with Steel in episode nine. More than a year of IRL time between episodes (and about two-ish months in-game). My gut reaction was, “Wait, really? Did no one really mention scrying or even just in passing, ‘we looked for you magically and nothing came up’? Hmm. That was so long ago. I’ve done a couple Arc 1 relistens and it doesn’t sound familiar, and I vaguely recall it being a little odd that they had presumed her dead at the time, but it was hand-waved as ‘we’re at war, probably some evil guy got her.’” I checked the transcripts: Nope. No mention of scrying nor an allusion that the Citadel even tried (and failed). Interestingly, the only time “dead” appears in the transcript is when Suvi asks “they all think I’m dead?” Odd. The only word Galani and Steel use to describe her is “alive.” Did they not presume her to be dead?
Looking back on episode nine now, Suvi’s first conversation with Galani is immediately recontextualized. She expresses surprise that Suvi is alive, noting that “[w]ord went out through the Citadel's private channels to begin searching for you about a week and a half ago,” to which Suvi references her broken speaking mirror and replies with indignation that being in the backwoods of Akham couldn’t contact the Citadel until now (“…they all think I’m dead? [Yelling] How little do you all think of me?!” p.19). Galani justifies that with the reason that there’s a war going on and their enemies kill high level wizards all the time, not that they think little of her in particular. Going no-contact for weeks resulted in Steel assuming the worst (due to the tears streaking down her face), and one would assume the Citadel at-large would too, if they knew. Galani then casts dispel magic and arcane sight, to make sure Suvi isn’t under the influence of any nefarious magic, presumably coming up all-clear. In the moment, it makes sense why failed scrying attempts might not be mentioned by Galani: if Suvi was compromised, then it would not be strategic to reveal that in public (or to her).
Then, in Suvi’s conversation with Steel, scrying doesn’t come up directly in her chewing-out (see footnote 3). It might have been alluded to, “and how CLOUDED do you think my eyes are, here in the Citadel?” (p. 43). At first glance, I think the obvious meaning is, “how oblivious do you think I am?” In hindsight, using “clouded” and “eyes” as hyperbole is very evocative of a Scry spell, but I don’t think it’s the first thing that comes to mind or a definitive mention of scrying, and certainly not from Suvi’s perspective (of one being castigated). Steel is justifiably angry and mostly appeals to Suvi to empathize and put herself in Steel’s shoes in this moment (“Do you think it might have been difficult for me? Sending you back to Silbury? Do you think there might have been anything challenging for me, about wondering what might have happened to you on that island? Do you think that there is any part of me, that might have been worried or concerned?” p. 43). Now, for the beginning of this conversation, Steel was not alone on her side of the mirror, so it’s likely she wouldn’t have wanted to bring up the failed scrying since she would see her in person in a few days (and it was not necessarily the most urgent thing to discuss). I’ll get to the flow chart options of “what Steel knows” and the implications later on, but for right now, put a pin in the now glaring omission from Steel anywhere in this conversation, especially when it is just them: she doesn’t say, “Suvi! Thank god you’re alive! How are you alive? I tried to look for you but it never worked! I thought you were dead or captured or worse! Why didn’t the scrying work? I tried so many times.”
So there’s some narrative reasons why scrying wouldn’t be explicitly mentioned, and I’ll expand on the implications of that later, but this story is not told just by four people yammering into microphones with wonderous sound design, it’s a game of D&D. I know WBN can and does edit out dice rolls and filler for narrative purpose (and it’s one of the many, many things I love about this show). So it’s possible a saving throw for Scry was edited out (I am reminded of the ominous “give me a wisdom saving throw” from Neverafter) or that it wasn’t even asked for in the first place, presuming Brennan has known from the beginning the properties of the amulet. In terms of D&D mechanics, the math really ain’t mathin’ here.
Mechanics, Math, and Motivations
To start, how does Scry work in D&D? It’s a 5th level divination spell, can only be cast on a creature on the same plane (e.g., it does not work on dead people), and the target makes a wisdom saving throw (against your spell save DC and modified based on your connection and knowledge to them). If the target succeeds, they are unaffected, and you can’t cast it on them again for 24 hours. (There are other details about how it works, but this is all that is relevant in this particular scenario, since it will never succeed.) It is very important to note that wizards only unlock the fifth level spell at level 9, so only high-level wizards in the Citadel would be casting it. You also need verbal, somatic, and material components just to cast the spell: “a focus worth at least 1,000 GP, such as a crystal ball, a silver mirror, or a font filled with holy water” (Player's Handbook). (This quite possibly explains the four Scry spells on Suvi’s Ring of Aerith: in episode 18, the Aerith depository in the Tower of the Glove is described as, “a massive…emerald gemstone set into a brass basin within the wall… [i]t stands just inside the doorway, almost like a receptacle of holy water… in the shape of… a bird bath or some other kind of basin.”).
Thus, it is easier to cast Scry on someone you know well and have the closest physical connection to, and even if it fails the first time, you get to try again the next day. For the hypothetical number crunching, I am going to assume that Steel was the one casting Scry every time, because of anyone at the Citadel, she would be the one most likely to succeed (or make it so that Suvi is more likely to fail the saving throw). We also know Steel travels with a mirror, presumably silver. This. Has. Plot. Implications. Because of her knowledge (familiar), Suvi subtracts 5 from the roll. Steel would also have the highest connection (like a lock of hair) for -10 to the roll, or at the very least second highest connection (possession or garment) for -4 to the roll at a minimum. At level one, Suvi’s wisdom saving throw modifier is a +5 (very impressive). Added together, at worst she has a -10 or at best a -4 to the twenty-sided die roll. Already the chances of a successful Scry is looking pretty good.
What is the spell save dc for Steel casting Scry? To calculate this for a wizard, the formula is 8 + proficiency + INT. Unfortunately, I have to make more assumptions than I would prefer to answer this question because we don’t know what level Steel is or what her intelligence modifier is. So, basically all of the variables are unknown. Great. For the purpose of math (because the values do standardize somewhat over a range of levels), I’m going to make a couple of educated guesses, based on Steel’s age, rank, and station.
I think it’s safe to assume that Steel is at least between levels 13 and 16; she’s the highest-ranking non-arch-war-mage, is the Sword of the Citadel, and is probably in her late 40s/early 50s given the age of her biological daughter Cadilla (and Suvi is 21). This would give her a proficiency bonus of +5 and two fifth level spell slots. You can definitely make the case that she is a higher level than 16, but this would only increase the difficulty of the roll, and I want to make fair and reasonable assumptions given the missing information. Steel is also a wizard (she may have a second class, but this doesn’t really affect the numbers), so she probably has a very high INT score to be able to cast magic. At this point in leveling up, let’s say she has at least between 16 and 20 INT, so she adds a +3 at the lowest, +5 at the highest. Again, it could be higher but trying to keep it fair.
I would be remiss not to mention that Steel would hate to know that she is in a D&D game and that I am using made up numbers to infer anything about her. As such, she obviously would not think about Scry in terms of these specific die rolls and ability modifiers, instead she understands that Scry only works a certain percentage of the time when you cast it, especially when cast on people who may have a naturally high wisdom modifier and/or have magical means to avoid it. But she also likely recognizes that Suvi is her daughter and a young un-namecloaked wizard (and would know her full name, Suvirin Kedberiket) and should be fairly easy to successfully scry upon. She could maybe scry on Ame (since she knew Suvi was going to see her), but she would probably know that she wouldn’t have nearly enough connection to her (i.e., enough to subtract from the roll), might realize Ame has high WIS, and on top of that, Steel is also actively involved in war and may not want to use that spell slot. At level 13-16, she has two fifth level spells, and would already be using one of them to scry on Suvi. (NB: You can cast Scry on a location you’ve visited before, like Grandmother Wren’s cottage, but they left soon after Suvi’s speaking mirror broke, and it’s likely the cottage has wards against that anyway.)
Steel’s spell save DC (8+ proficiency + INT modifier) would be anywhere from a 16 to 18 DC for Scry. Subtracting either 10 or 4 from the roll overall, Suvi would have to roll a natural 20 for Scry to fail (in the best-case scenario, i.e. lowest modifier and lowest DC, if she rolled a 19, the save would be a 15 and would fail). The probability of Suvi passing the wisdom saving throws for a single Scry is 5% (1/20). It should almost always work, unless something is interfering. As Steel casts it again and again, the chance of it not working approach zero. The probability of Suvi passing TWENTY-TWO wisdom saving throws, consecutively over as many days, or rolling 22 natural 20s in a row is 2.384186e-29. That’s a lot of zeros following the decimal point. If Suvi has advantage on the roll, the odds improve ever so slightly, but not enough for this to be credulous. (Above the table, we also know that Aabria’s dice were rebelling against her, especially in the first arc!)
How would one mechanically avoid Scry if you don’t have a one-of-a-kind magical amulet blocking it that the caster may or may not know the properties of?
There are a couple of ways. The most accessible spell to counter it is a third-level Nondetection, which explicitly blocks scrying and divination but only lasts 8 hours (and Suvi doesn’t have access to it and won’t for a while). An even more powerful spell is the eighth-level spell Mind Blank, which grants immunity to divinatory spells for 24 hours. There’s an edge-case where Grandmother Wren cast Nondetection or Mind Blank as a precaution when Suvi first arrived, for some unknowable reason, but Wren was also gravely ill (see footnote 4).
But for this to be the case over twenty-two castings, then someone close to Suvi (as the range for both is Touch), would have to be continually casting either one 3rd level spell every 8 hours, or burning one 8th level spell slot per day. This is not a logical conclusion—what insane circumstances would have had to arise to warrant burning those magical resources?
Occam’s razor says that the simplest explanation is probably the correct one. As each Scry fails, it becomes more and more likely that the creature is dead or not on the same plane: the primary conditions for the spell to succeed.
One final thing to consider about avoiding scry with a magical item in D&D. We know that the Citadel and Empire keep records of magical items (e.g., Suvi logged the items taken from the Azure Battalion in episode 8), and Suvi’s amulet has a powerful abjuration on it, above anything that would be standard issue. Steel, at the very least, would know what items had been issued to her by the Citadel (like her staff). Suvi is very protective of her amulet and has stated multiple times throughout the show that she keeps it hidden and has not mentioned it to anyone.
The Compartmentalization of Information: Who knows what and who knows when?
Following that summer at Grandmother Wren’s, it is established that Suvi has not left the Citadel in the intervening time. There would be no need to scry on her when she is there for obvious reasons (and we know they did not because there were no older spells mentioned in the Identify). When she teleports to Silbury, this is when the Citadel would have first discovered that they could not scry on her. They try again, and again, and again, to no avail, and after 22 attempts, start search efforts. Now here’s something you may have noticed: I’ve been using Steel and the Citadel somewhat interchangeably, and that’s on purpose. The Scry spells described in the Identify are marked as from the Citadel, not a specific person, which (purely speculating) may have to do with the reflexive indicative, or a similar identifying/obfuscating component of the lingua arcana, marking and masking the individual user as being a member of the Citadel. I think there is a case to be made that someone other than (or in addition to) Steel cast Scry, but I do think Steel cast the first one, at the very least. I will elaborate on this, but let’s break down the information available to Steel:
Steel now knows the following when Suvi turns up alive at the Chantry in episode 9:
Suvi is not dead or on another plane,
Because of Galani’s abjuration checks, she is not under the effects of any spell and is who she says she is,
Grandmother Wren is dead (i.e., someone who could’ve repeatedly cast Mind Blank or Nondetection),
She was not traveling with a high-level caster who could have cast either of those spells,
There is not a standard issue magical item given to Suvi by the Citadel to prevent scrying,
And the 22 scrying spells failed not for any of those reasons.
We now know, of course, that Suvi’s necklace blocks scrying from the Citadel and Great Spirits. So, this raises several crucial questions, especially if you haven’t been relistening or combing through transcripts (like I have):
Q1) Does Steel know about the necklace?
Q2) Does she know what the necklace can do?
Q3) Why didn’t anyone mention the failed scrying?
Q4) Does the Citadel proper or anyone else at the Citadel know about Suvi’s necklace or the failed scrying?
Let’s go down the line and examine each possible answer.
Question 1: Does Steel know about the necklace?
Yes. Stone told Suvi not to show the necklace to anyone, and she has not, to her knowledge, done so on purpose, except for one time: when Suvi showed it to Steel when she picked her up from Grandmother Wren’s cottage at the end of the Children’s Adventure. And although she didn’t outright say “my mom gave this to me,” it is heavily implied. When Steel gave her Soft’s ring, Suvi showed Steel the amulet, and put the ring on the same chain. So, Steel absolutely knows that this necklace exists and inferred that it was from her mother given the context and significance of the moment. But Suvi herself did not know any of the properties of the necklace when she showed it to Steel and wouldn’t find out until the end of Arc 1 (great spirits) and in the moment of the Identify casting (the Citadel).
Question 2: Does Steel know what the necklace can do?
Before I can answer this directly, I need to revisit those assumptions from the earlier Scry calculations.
Question 2a: Who cast Scry twenty-two times on Suvi?
I keep repeating myself, but 22 is a really large and specific number of castings for such a high-level spell, and it borders on excessive. Obsessive, even. Wizards don’t unlock their fifth level spell slot until level 9, so whoever was doing this is definitely high(er) ranking at the Citadel. Let’s start from the framework outlined earlier, that Steel cast all twenty-two Scry spells. This means that while at war, for twenty-two days straight, she burned a 5th level spell slot (of which she has two) to cast Scry. This is not trivial. Consider the sequence of events and headspace that Steel would be in that would lead to her casting it this many times.
To me, the first Scry reads as a mother’s worry, “Oh I’ll just check on her, make sure she got to Wren’s OK.” Check the speaking mirror, no answer, “I can cast Scry, so no need to bother Kabani with this.” It fails. “Ok, well if she’s with Grandmother Wren, then maybe Wren took precautions, no big deal, I’ll try again tomorrow or in a few days.” Second Scry fails. Even more concerning. Fails a third time. The speaking mirror still isn’t working, so Suvi can’t even be ordered to submit to the spell. Scry again. And on and on and on. At what point does she divulge this information to anyone, to the diviners in Kabani, or to Silence? Suvi is her daughter, an extremely valuable and high-ranking member of the Citadel, and now she is a ghost on the wind. Steel let her go, Steel gave her the staff, Steel went out on a limb and let her leave the Citadel for the first time since she returned from Grandmother Wren’s. And the only plausible reason it fails twenty-two times is if she is dead or on another plane, or a very-high level magic user is casting magic to prevent it (for good or evil is moot), and let’s first presume that she does not know that Suvi has a one-of-a-kind magic item to specifically prevent Citadel scrying. Regardless of her duty as Sword of the Citadel to report the loss of an asset, does she? Let’s assume she doesn’t know about the necklace and doesn’t report the failed scrying to anyone. What are the implications of this, and is there circumstantial evidence to support this idea?
After twenty-two Scries (cast by only Steel), we know from Galani that a private order goes out to begin searching for Suvi, and Galani makes no mention of whether that order included anything about her presumed status (that field of the BOLO could have been left intentionally blank). But the timeline is a little fuzzy, so it’s possible that twenty-two days had elapsed before the order went out, which was a week and a half before Suvi showed up in Port Talon. Let’s say that a week and a half is 10 days, for a total of 32 days, or just over a month since Suvi left the Citadel/ Grandmother Wren died. I think, if Suvi had been gone for over a month, Galani and Steel would say, “Suvi you’ve been gone for over a month,” not “weeks.” But they don’t, because she hasn’t been gone that long.
Galani: “What have you—so you've been traveling around Akham for a week and a half? Two weeks? For a long time.” Steel: “I am glad you are alive. Now, the last time we spoke, I said "No rush in getting back to me. Take your time." Because I was sending you to see Grandmother Wren, who I had heard was deathly ill. So I said, "Oh, I want to give her a day, or two, to settle in." It's been weeks, Suvi. It's been weeks.”
So, given the timeline, Steel is likely not the only one to be casting scry. Let’s divide twenty-two into a couple parts to see what fits the timeline:
If two people cast Scry on Suvi per day (maybe at alternating intervals to catch her unawares, to catch a missed Nondetection or some other reason), then that is 11 days of casting, plus ten days of searching, for 21 days (three weeks) since Suvi left the Citadel. That seems plausible, and for the best odds of success, the other person casting it would probably be Sonder. If this is the case, Steel may have cast the first Scry, and in a normal conversation with Sonder about their surrogate daughter and her first solo adventure, mentions the failed Scry and asks for a second opinion.
If three people cast Scry on Suvi per day, then that is 7 days of casting, plus 1 for the first failed casting by Steel, plus 10 days of searching, for 18 days (two and a half weeks). Building off of that, then the three wizards would probably Steel, Sonder, and a closely trusted diviner in Kabani (who may have other means of boosting the chances of a successful Scry). This could be Scholar, who was the diviner that Steel visited to ask about Ame’s prophecy about the coven (episode 18, Steel: “I talked to Scholar. I talked to the Wizard Scholar, she's been—she was very clear.”). This is also highly plausible given the timeline. Any larger number of people casting Scry is possible but not plausible given the restriction of information, the timeline, and the resources needed (e.g., the ability to sacrifice a 5th level spell slot on a failed attempt).
Now, I reiterate that if we presume that Steel does not know the properties of the necklace, then the reasons for Scry to fail so many times spell disaster for Steel and the Citadel (i.e., death, abjuration of the Scry by a high-level caster, or a magic item they don’t know about). And, the compartmentalization of the information that Suvi cannot be scried upon is extremely important and sensitive: if the Citadel’s enemies or others wishing to kneecap the next Archmage of the Citadel found out not only that she is missing, but also cannot be magically located, then that is a Big Fucking Problem.
And word of Suvi’s disappearance did go out, but only through private channels, and it is notable that Galani was the one who showed up at the Chantry (rather than literally any other wizard). Galani must be at least level five, since she could cast two third level spells (or maybe she has some souped-up Citadel magic items to allow multiple slots of that level as an abjurer, anything’s possible), and she is characterized as “the Head of the Des Moines Agricultural Bureau” to Suvi’s “intern at the White House.” It is revealing that Galani is trusted with that information, not just because of her level and rank, but it shows that she was the most trusted person nearest to Akham/Port Talon, and that she knew (or at least knew of) Suvi when training at the Citadel. Basically someone (Steel) went, “who do we have on the ground, preferably an abjurer, in Akham that can be trusted not to divulge that the Archmage Apprentice is missing and can get to Port Talon to check out this rumor quickly? Also, who would Suvi know and feel safe reaching out to?” That Suvi was missing (or even had left the Citadel) probably wasn’t disclosed to many others, given that Akham is on the fringes of the Empire’s influence. Even more importantly, Galani claims she only knew to look for her in Port Talon because Morrow blabbed to anyone who would listen. Steel then made a beeline for Port Talon by air from wherever she was on the war front, since teleporting to Silbury would be even slower. So, considering all of this information from episodes 9 and 33:
Back to Question 2: Does Steel know that the necklace prevents Scrying by the Citadel?
Based on the above evidence, I can conclude that no, she does not, if she presumed her to be dead (see footnote 5). If she did, then why attempt to scry in the first place if she knew it would fail every time? Why attempt to scry another twenty-one times? If you argue that she does know the properties of the necklace, then Steel is either the biggest idiot on the planet to waste a fifth level spell during wartime (and possibly repeatedly) or the most conniving manipulator, which is so blatantly disrespectful to her character and relationship with Suvi (what, she scried knowing that it would fail so that she could drop everything to go yell at Suvi? And manipulate her into doing what exactly? And to guilt trip Suvi into feeling bad that Steel thought she was dead? To what end?). Besides, we’ve already met a wizard who has shown themselves to be one of the most conniving manipulators: Keen.
Question 3: Why didn’t anyone mention the failed scrying?
This is the question that prompted this entire essay, and I’ve been slowly teasing it out. Once again, it boils down to “who knows what” and “who knows when.” I am very confident that at most, three people at the Citadel know that the scrying failed as of episode 9: Steel, Sonder, and Scholar. The compartmentalization of that information is likely very high, so it’s possible that more people may know or have figured this out by episode 43, but we can’t know for sure. However, there’s even more context needed to answer why none of those three mentioned it to Suvi.
Q4: Does the Citadel proper or anyone else at the Citadel know about Suvi’s necklace or the failed scrying?
Given the reasons outlined above, no, apart from anyone who may have assisted Steel with scrying in the intervening weeks (i.e., Sonder or Scholar). All of the scrying spells aimed at her heart are two months old, from the time between the speaking mirror breaking and “when [Suvi] was on foot, with Ame, in Akham” (ep 33). No other pending scries, no other wizards attempting to scry on her before or after that time period. I suppose, it’s possible that they expire after a year or something, but I highly doubt that anyone tried or had any reason to, since she had essentially lived at the Citadel her whole life apart from that summer. We know for certain that once the search for Suvi began, no one from the Citadel attempted to scry on her again. Finally, given the mechanics of Scry, it is clear that there are not random unnamed wizards going, “Hmm, I wonder what the Archmage Apprentice is up to right now” and actually casting Scry.
The only other thing I’ll briefly mention here is that Sly was also seen in Suvi’s Identify (he fits the description to the letter). Sly appears to be able to divine things about her: he refused to give Suvi bad news, knew that she was key to success at the coven meeting, and knew that if Eursulon didn’t get a shield, both Ame and Suvi would die within the year. There’s an important difference here that scrying looks at someone in the present time. On a successful Scry, the following happens (from PHB):
“On a failed save, the spell creates an invisible sensor within 10 feet of the target. You can see and hear through the sensor as if you were there. The sensor moves with the target, remaining within 10 feet of it for the duration. A creature that can see invisible objects sees the sensor as a luminous orb about the size of your fist.”
Since Sly specializes in catastrophic futures and prophecy, he likely wouldn’t be attempting to Scry on her in the present-day. I can’t say for certain whether he would know about the necklace or its properties or not, for other divinatory reasons.
However, Identify was 10 episodes ago, and a Citadel wizard could have attempted to scry on her in the intervening time. I cannot say for certain whether this has happened or not (e.g., during the rescue mission or after Suvi left Bracken with those two failed luck checks, though I’m sure the literal and metaphorical fog of war doesn’t help), but this neatly brings us to Eioghorain.
Scrying, Eioghorain, and the Presumption of Death
Okay, I’m far enough into this essay that I’ll let anyone reading this know: if you were expecting me to speculate about Steel’s involvement or responsibility (or lack thereof) in Soft and Stone’s deaths, you’re out of luck. Instead, I must talk about her behavior thus far regarding Eioghorain, because he is a HUGE wrinkle in all of this scrying business (see footnote 6). So far, I have assumed that Steel does not know the properties of the necklace, and as I have outlined, it is logical to conclude that by using “Who knows what” and “Who knows when.” However, I have mostly been using evidence from episodes 33 and 9 so far, and we still have the unanswered question of why Steel hasn’t mentioned the failed scrying yet. With all of this information, we must now consider what was revealed about Eioghorain in episode 16 (“Everything”), when Steel finally has a conversation with Suvi about him. (see footnote 7)
In episode 43, Suvi asserts that Eioghorain killed her parents, and that Steel was the one that told her that on the day that she picked her up from the cottage:
Suvi: “The last time I saw you, they sent me away, you went off to do whatever you do, and then a six-year-old girl was picked up by Steel, and told that her parents died at your hands. And I’ve been waiting to see you ever since.” Eioghorain: “If I had, we would settle it here and now… I betrayed your parents, but I didn’t slay them. I don’t know how they died.” Eioghorain: “Steel told you, point blank, that I killed Soft and Stone?” Suvi: “Yyyup.”
Unfortunately, Suvi is partially and meaningfully wrong here about what Steel told her. First, Steel did not mention Eioghorain by name or refer to him or his culpability when she picked Suvi up from the cottage, only that her parents died as heroes. Eioghorain is briefly mentioned by description in episode 2 and doesn’t get mentioned again until the very end of episode 14  (although I could be wrong). In a flashback, Suvi finally has her conversation with Steel on the balcony of the Tower of the Sword in episode 16, “Everything”:
Steel: “It is my belief that Eioghorain is responsible for the death of your parents…” [Steel explains why she thinks that, and the circumstances of Soft and Stone’s final mission. Further, she admits that she doesn’t have definitive proof, except that she claims she wasn’t there and Eioghorain was. Until recently, she thought Eioghorain was dead, which is why she thinks he was responsible in some way.]
It’s possible Suvi is misremembering given everything that has happened, but strategically, it’s also a more forceful accusation to say, “Steel said you killed my parents and I’ve been waiting to see you since I was a child,” to get a reaction and answers from Eioghorain, than to say “Steel said you were responsible and she only told me this a month ago.” Further, I believe that it matters less what Steel said about Eioghorain’s culpability; because while discussing Eioghorain, Steel told Suvi about an instance when scrying failed to work and Steel knew that the reason was NOT because the target was dead:
Suvi: “I’m going to ask the questions now that I think are why you didn’t tell me this story earlier. You think he’s still alive? You haven’t found him? Do you know where he is?” Steel: “I’m telling you this now because I have come to the certainty that I cannot find him… I think that there are means at his disposal to keep him hidden from the Citadel. Obviously, we have tremendous power at our disposal…” [Suvi mentions the diagrams of Eioghorain that she and Ame looked at in Episode 2, that Steel had given Suvi to show to Grandmother Wren] Steel: “Several weeks ago, I made the determination that Eioghorain was still alive, something that I was unsure of up until recently. [Steel asserts that him being alive means that he had to be responsible because he is violent and deranged.] Steel: “The diagram that was going with you to Grandmother Wren was me conceding defeat and asking for help from one of the world’s most powerful witches… If magical power could solve this, then the Citadel could solve this. What we’re dealing with is something outside our sphere of understanding. He has some form of abjuration on him, but we have probed around the edges. We’ve talked to all of the Diviner’s College. We’ve seen everything we can trying to go after him. We’ve found locked doors, which is not the same as finding a wall… So it’s just about who has the key… And Grandmother Wren, when she was still alive, there was a chance that she would tell me it was impossible. In which case, I never would have told you to have you go berserk with something like this hanging over your head.” Steel: “Instead, with her gone, we’re left with an open-ended question. Perhaps a witch could find Eioghorain. Perhaps a spirit could find Eioghorain. Perhaps Soft and Stone gave some ability to you to bypass those locked doors. I don’t know. What I do know is this, and I need you to hear me, Eioghorain would kill you, as you are today.” Suvi: “I hear you.” [Aabria has stated that she meant this as a challenge, or at the very least that Suvi would need to level up a couple times before she should go after him for answers.] Steel: “…So I’m out of options. And there’s elements of this left to explore, that we can explore when Ame is awake again.” [They did not explore this with Steel because of the attack at Fort Kieran and WitchCon.]
Um, what the fuck. Before I pulled up this transcript to check the facts about what Steel said about Eioghorain, I did not recall this many specifics about Steel’s attempts to find Eioghorain, only that she thought he was dead and realized he wasn’t. I completely forgot that Steel mentioned scrying (while the spell was not explicitly mentioned, the evidence that she tried to scry is plain as day) to Suvi’s face, IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWING the events in Port Talon and Suvi’s return to the Citadel. Not only that, we now know that the EXACT CIRCUMSTANCES of the failed scrying on Eioghorain and presumption of death were the EXACT SAME for Suvi, and though we now know that it failed for Suvi because of the amulet, we don’t know what made it fail on Eioghorain (other than he also has a powerful abjuration on him).
Further, something changed Steel’s mind about Eioghorain being dead BEFORE Suvi left the Citadel to see Grandmother Wren.
Until I looked back at Episode 16, I thought I had put most of the pieces together, and had an answer for this open-ended question:
Why hasn’t Steel mentioned to Suvi about the failed scrying attempts on her? She’s had so many opportunities to say something, but it hasn’t been the right place, the right time, or the right amount of information.
It is really strange that Steel talks about scrying and abjuration in episode 16, with (presumably, as I’ve argued) full knowledge that she had scried on Suvi several times, but Steel explicitly wants to wait to talk about abjuration and scrying until Ame is awake. Why not mention it now? Any number of reasons intersecting with her role as mother and member of the Citadel: she just dropped a bombshell allegation against Eioghorain, she doesn’t want to scare her, she doesn’t want to overwhelm her, she doesn’t want to plant a seed of disillusionment. And if she didn’t make the leap in logic that the reason Suvi couldn’t be scried on was the necklace, we know that Steel, by her own admission as with Eioghorain, would not want to divulge that she only had part of the picture to anyone else until she was desperate or exhausted all options.
Following episode 16, several relevant things and conversations occur. Shortly after Ame wakes up, she and Eursulon essentially flee the Citadel before any conversation with Steel can happen about Eioghorain. Then in episode 23, Suvi has another conversation with Steel about divining, concerning the prophecy (Steel: “We just always have to—we just all have to always be saying what we know.”—I don’t know if she recognizes the hypocrisy here). Scholar, a diviner in Kabani, is name-dropped. Steel appeals to Suvi about “wizards are known by their secrets,” then immediately bites her cheek until it bleeds, and Suvi insights Steel, gleaning what Steel thinks: about how diviners can be tricked or be wrong, and how there are “all these edge cases and marginalia” (to be clear, Steel does not say that, Suvi learns this on an insight check). Gee, I wonder what Steel was thinking about in that moment. No mention of Suvi’s failed scrying. They talk about Sly, among other things. Then Suvi is off to WitchCon, with a Geas and a Modify Memory in tow. No time to explain anything. WitchCon is not fun for anyone. Suvi casts Identify on herself. Shit hits the fan: fleeing the Conclave, rescuing Silver, getting through Hallicker Forest. The next time Suvi talks to Steel is in Bracken in episode 41, but that’s neither the time nor the place to reveal that. Steel will be there in a couple days, so just stay put, and we’ll have that frank conversation. But the cracks in the justification machine are widening, and so Suvi heads to Twelve Brooks, gets half-arrested by the Empire for abandoning her post (Silver, you RAT), and then is abducted by Eioghorain. And then these pieces fall into place.
Now, like Steel, I am left with so many more open-ended questions, but instead of asking them, I will lay out the timeline and facts regarding Eioghorain, Suvi and Steel.
A Timeline to Remember (What We Know and What Can Reasonably Be Inferred)
Since Soft and Stone were killed, Steel has been unable to find Eioghorain, by scrying or other means. Steel and all of the diviners in Kabani presumed him to be dead because they could not scry on him. Stone’s necklace protects Suvi from scrying by the Citadel and Great Spirits. Prior to the events of Episode 1, Suvi has lived at the Citadel her whole life and the only other place she had ever been to was Silbury (where she got the necklace) and Toma, where she was under the protection of Grandmother Wren. It is very likely that no one at the Citadel attempted to Scry on Suvi before she left the Citadel for the first time since that summer. Several weeks before Suvi went to visit Grandmother Wren, Steel changed her mind about Eioghorain being dead. Steel sent Suvi to see Grandmother Wren and show her the scroll case and book. Suvi did not have time to show these to her. After Grandmother Wren died (and the interaction with the Man in Black), Suvi’s speaking mirror broke, and Steel discovered that she could not scry on Suvi and that she is alive. In Episode 16, Steel does not mention that to her, but does mention that scrying does not work on Eioghorain and he is alive, and does not explain how she knows this.
Logical Conclusions and Mechanics
Mechanically, in order to scry, you need Knowledge (Secondhand, Firsthand, or Familiar) and Connection (Likeness or picture, Possession or Garment, Body Part or the like). It will always fail if the target is dead, but if you have imperfect information (i.e. not adding the highest modifiers to the roll), then concluding the target is dead could be false. What components did the Citadel have in order to attempt to cast Scry on Eioghorain? His Likeness: which is a 150-year-old document depicting a garran, a similar creature to the one Eioghorain shapeshifts into (giving a -2 modifier) and some variance of Knowledge: Citadel diviners would give +5 (secondhand if they never met him, unless it was cast by a diviner who was a member of the Acadator, who would have a higher bonus) and Steel would give -5 (familiar). At worst, the modifier is +3 and at best, it is -7. We know that Eioghorain succeeded on every single save. As outlined, it would be reasonable to presume that he was dead, but this is not conclusive.
In the weeks leading up to Grandmother Wren’s death, something changed Steel’s mind about Eioghorain’s presumption of death. Logically, the thing that would have changed Steel’s mind would be a change in the components available, and mechanically, the modifier. What would give you definitive proof of death? A body part or the like, not just his likeness. Thus, we can conclude that until this point, the Citadel did not have a body part or the like to cast Scry with.
Moreover, if Steel casts Scry with a body part or the like on a dead person she knows well, the spell AUTOMATICALLY fails because it cannot target them. So, what happens when you cast Scry on a PRESUMED dead person you know well with a body part or the like? It doesn’t AUTOMATICALLY fail: something else happens (per Steel, “we have probed around the edges… we’ve found locked doors, which is not the same as finding a wall.”). This is a false negative or type II error in reasoning, where something is declared false when it is actually true.
What body part or the like of Eioghorain’s was just discovered?
In episode 18, “Between the Lines,” Suvi, Eursulon, and Ame investigate the scroll that the Citadel was using for scrying on Eioghorain, though they do not explicitly glean that this could be its purpose, but they get close. The document is 150 years old, depicting a garran, and there is a NEW smell that has been added to it, and Ame can discern that it was added recently. Eursulon figures out that it is biological in nature, with the scent of blood and bile, mixed with the scent of iron, which taken together doesn’t smell exactly like a garran, but it is similar to it. It makes sense to conclude that in sending that document with Suvi to show Grandmother Wren, Steel wanted her to check her work and confirm that Eioghorain was unable to be scried on and alive (and Suvi posits this as well in the episode, “maybe Steel replicated his smell so Grandmother Wren would know him specifically?”), and to see if there was a way around the powerful abjuration (a “key”).
Missing Pieces and Limitations
Editor’s note: I cut an entire section of this essay right here and changed the above heading, because it was quickly and dangerously veering into off-topic speculation about the connection between the curse and the smell. There is too much to unpack and too little definitive information about either at the moment, and I realized that any theories I might have now shouldn’t be included in this essay that is fundamentally about Steel and Scrying. However, the fact that Eioghorain has the same smell as the contingency expectorant of Ame’s curse is going to be very important, and there’s certainly another full essay I could write using the “who knows what and when” framing when we have some more information.
With all of that said, there’s definitely Steel-involved interactions that I have omitted from this essay: basically any other interactions in other episodes not mentioned here or other parts of her conversations that I did not include for relevancy’s sake. I also did not discuss the other characters’ (Suvi, Ame, Eursulon, etc.) perspectives or views of Steel, such as how trustworthy she is, what they believe her values to be, or her relationships to them. This is because of the framing of this essay, which is to look at what Steel knows and when she knows it (and why she doesn’t disclose it). In admitting this, I leave open the possibility that I may be cherry-picking evidence or reading way too much into this. I’ve tried to be as balanced and thorough as possible in my analysis, and I think my logic and conclusions are sound. I also want to acknowledge how insanely good Brennan is at burying plot details in plain sight and inconspicuously in an improvised medium, and now he has free reign to do this in a long-form campaign (see footnote 1). We’re only 43 episodes in and the characters are only level four; there’s so much more to come, including the rest of Arc 4, which has been teased as, “a series of the *wildest* sessions [they’ve] ever played” (per Brennan’s Instagram). I don’t think I’m ready for that, but I’m beyond excited to see what happens next.
Discussion
On that note, if I am correctly reading between the lines of Steel’s conversation in episode 16 and understand that the mechanics of Scry on both Eioghorain and Suvi failed due to some kind of powerful abjuration (whether or not these abjurations are related), then my earlier conclusion that Steel definitively does not know about the properties of Suvi’s amulet (that it can protect from Citadel scrying) is almost certainly false, presuming Steel has put all of these pieces together (by episode 16). To throw fuel on the fire, Steel definitely knows about the abjuration on Suvi protecting her from Great Spirits, though she may not know these are related. In episode 12, “Prisoner’s Dilemma,” Suvi tells Steel that Orima could not hear her but does not know why (this is before Suvi figures it out on her own with Orima, and as far as I know this interaction regarding Orima has not come up between them since).
The reason Steel knows about the properties of the necklace (beyond what Suvi has told her) is that she would have come away with the same answer about Suvi that she did with Eioghorain, especially if she maxed out the Scry modifier and cast it enough times to be certain that the probability of failure without magical interference was zero. Remember, neither Steel nor Galani said outright that they presumed her to be dead, just that they were glad she was alive. Why didn’t they presume her to be dead or mention that presumption? Galani may well have presumed Suvi dead when she first received the search orders, but upon hearing rumors that Suvi was in Port Talon (before confirming she was alive), she may have concluded that Suvi was under the control of powerful magic or had means of obscuring her location from the Citadel. However, to rub salt in the wound, for Galani, just like Silver, questioning orders like that is above her paygrade. (Editing-Bullseye remembered something important about the presumption of death, although it doesn't really change the conclusions that Steel would have drawn. Word may have reached the Citadel or the Empire she was alive when the party tried to charter a boat in episode 3 using the Citadel's name with Captain Karkoth. This might change the math of who was casting Scry, but I don't think there is enough evidence to support that right now. Worryingly, Captain Karkoth was headed to Carrow, where the Glass Coronet is. There are SO many factors at play; it's insane!).
Steel would not have presumed Suvi dead when she issued the search orders because she had magical evidence that contradicted that assertion, and thus would have known that Suvi was alive but missing, because she couldn’t scry on her. Since Suvi was not dead, when scrying was attempted, Steel did not hit a wall, and instead found a locked door. As outlined earlier, she knows that Stone gave Suvi the necklace, and Stone was an abjurer. Only a powerful abjuration would manifest like this on a failed Scry. (Steel, episode 16, “Perhaps Soft and Stone gave some ability to you to bypass those locked doors. I don’t know.”) So, she quietly issued search orders to contain that information. Further, this may be why Suvi’s namecloaking was expedited, not just to get around the court martial when Suvi threatened the Azure Battalion, but also to stop anyone from probing into the time period when she went missing. Thus, the focus of the Citadel and the Empire at-large shifts from how Suvi ended up in Port Talon to thanking her for minimizing the casualties and being honored with a namecloak. I may be reading too much into this, honestly, and also find myself obfuscated by this compartmentalization of information: “who knows what” and “who knows when,” especially when crucial pieces of the picture are left out.
I started writing this essay as a deep dive into Steel’s psyche to figure out why the scrying still hasn’t come up yet. She is Suvi’s adoptive mother and so far, has not turned out to be the mustache-twirling evil villain that some claim her to be (with little to no supporting evidence). Withholding this knowledge from Suvi is not damning of her character, but it is fascinating, given the number of opportunities to divulge it. Steel is characterized as being methodical, rational, intelligent, and tactical, but she is human (obviously), and displays genuine emotions: care, anger, laughter, sadness, joy, pride, disappointment, concern, etc. (Steel, ep. 14, “I just hope everybody’s thinking carefully.”). She was a member of the Acadator and a true friend of Stone. Part of me thinks that she wouldn’t keep this hidden from Suvi unless she had a very good and logical reason, but she is human (and played by one), and even very intelligent humans do dumb things for not very good and illogical reasons. Especially given the conversation with Suvi in episode 23 about ‘wizards being known by their secrets’ and then very obviously holding something back (biting her cheek until it bleeds), there is part of her that wants to be forthcoming and not keep this secret. In her mind, it just hasn’t been the right place, the right time, or the right amount of information to be able to share what she knows (Steel, ep 23, “When you have all the information, that's when you can make the right decision.”) Unfortunately, I don’t think there was or will be a “right” time or place, or if there was, she may have already missed it, since Suvi has essentially found out for herself with the Identify spell. What could be the reason to not say something? I think it is that Steel is missing or hiding an additional important piece of information, and she is protecting Suvi by not telling her and by compartmentalizing “who else knows what” at the Citadel, especially from its leadership.
This is my absolute pure speculation about what that might information be related to. Consider the Acadator’s discovery: that the League of Whispers was both sanctioned by the Citadel and believed to be warping its mission. Suvi, the daughter of two former Acadator members, and surrogate daughter to another, is now on the leadership track of the Citadel. Soft and Stone were remembered as heroes. Why and how do you think Suvi got to her position as Apprentice Archmage at such a young age, apart from her own innate talents and hard work? I think this could connect to why Steel has not said anything to Suvi about the scrying, but this is purely speculative and I cannot know for certain. Again, her reason to withhold this could be very good or very bad or very ignorant.
Finally, I must stress that the nature of The Wizard, The Witch, and The Wild One being an actual play show means that it is difficult to point to the specific wording a character uses and read between the lines and go, “this is canon and will never change or be retconned,” but in order to do any kind of analysis like this, you have to assume that, and also assume that the storytellers are paying as much attention as you are. There’s a through-line in several episodes regarding Steel and Scrying that has too much evidence, both plot-wise and mechanically to be dismissed outright as of episode 43. The thing about WWW is that these seeds can be planted now and grow in the long and short term, and we’ll just have to wait and see what crops up when. We also may never know, depending on the choices the players make and the direction the story takes. For now, I have written over 11,000 words about this with supporting evidence, and I understand a lot more about Steel, except that I’m left with no definitive answers to the question:
“Why haven’t you said anything?”
Concluding Thoughts and Asking Questions
The audience for this essay is me: I wanted to explore what makes Steel tick because it is so easy to make a snap judgment and proceed with looking for evidence to confirm, not disprove it. It is a reminder to myself to not jump to conclusions, to think critically, to read charitably first and cynically second, and to look for all sides, but I acknowledge that I am posting this publicly. So, dear reader, I’ll leave you with this advice: the next time you feel the urge to post anything divisive or reactionary about this show (…or really anything), take a second (or more) and stop and think about the whole picture. Relisten, look at the transcripts, take care, and pay back the respect to your intelligence the story is showing you. If things don’t make sense or don’t line up, take note of it, and know when to start and stop speculating. Assume the best before assuming the worst. Maybe that rumination will spawn something like this, because you need to fill the gaps and the space yourself with supporting evidence and not with implication or vibes (albeit maybe not with this many words). And honestly, I find that a more fun and fulfilling way to engage with this show (see footnote 8).
Footnotes:
1) Spoilers for Fantasy High Junior Year: “Barbarian Healing,” the five-years-long reveal from Brennan on a natural 20 investigation from Riz, answering the question, “How did Ragh get that curse? How did Ragh actually become able to see Kalina?”, and plays a clip from Sophomore Year, that Porter had put the curse on Ragh through “barbarian healing” and immediately after, was able to see Kalina for the first time. Barbarians can’t heal mechanically, but a multi-classed barbarian can. As the barbarian teacher, Porter was assumed to be just a barbarian. And Brennan reveals a lot more plot-relevant information and setup/payoff that I won’t spoil here. All I’ll say is that Brennan is really, really good at dropping hints through both story and mechanics, not pointing out the players assumptions about those hints, until the exact right time: then he asks the players a simple question, challenging their assumptions, that contextualizes everything prior. It looks like the exact same thing he did to Aabria/Suvi in episode 33; he just hasn’t fully revealed everything yet.
2) FWIW, Ame/the audience knew that the amulet was crafted by Stone, Wren, and Galt already, but it had not yet been revealed to Suvi at this point because of interpersonal drama (objectively).
3) The first thing Steel asks Suvi is “Where in the firmament, across the wide world of Umora have you been?” Now, I’d like to think that I have a pretty good vocabulary but sometimes you think you know the definition of a word but you look it up and it’s different, like meaningfully different? I thought firmament meant “earth” or “the world” (like terra firma). It doesn’t. It means “the sky” or “the heavens”, and I just think that’s really lovely and evocative of Steel’s relationship with the yet-to-be-namecloaked Wizard Sky (even if it was yelled). Just wanted to shout out Brennan’s adept word choice here.
4) We learn that Wren and Stone worked on the enchantment of the flawless sapphire in the amulet, and that Galt is the one who sourced it (in episode 23). My personal theory mechanically is that this is a version of the wondrous magical item, “amulet of proof against detection and location.” Wren crafted it as a permanent talisman (witch class feature) using the Mind Blank spell, cast either simultaneously or as part of a ritual with Stone using the lingua arcana without the reflexive indicative.
5) This is a shining example of how game mechanics enhance the story being told. In any other medium, you couldn’t use reverse-engineered (made-up) numbers to figure out a character’s motivation, perspective, or amount of knowledge. You can analyze what the characters say and do and infer their motivations in any story, but the mechanics of an actual play story (in this case D&D) add a sliding scale of confidence: it’s impossible, it’s 50/50, it’s an absolute certainty (and everything in between). For example, examining mechanically how things (like Scry) work or fail, so that reveals like this aren’t hand-wavy or not set up within the constraints of the game. There’s a codified magic system baked into the game and the story. It further demonstrates how a close examination and interpretation of the rules in the context of a story can lead to very compelling story beats and character motivations. After all, the WBN tag line/motto is, “we play games to make stories out of sound.”
6) This essay is so long already, but I needed this much space to fully flesh out all of the moving parts and what is known (and I likely still didn’t mention everything). I had originally added this footnote (“This essay is long enough”, i.e., I’m almost done) because I was only going to briefly talk about Eioghorain, and then I checked episode 16, and my brain exploded. I have often audibly gasped when listening to the episodes on first listen, but NEVER when reading the transcript!! When I started this essay last year, I was mostly looking at episode 9, since ep 9 was the first time scrying could have come up, and the fact that it didn’t immediately get mentioned was really strange. I didn’t get any farther in my research than that, until I reopened this draft (more of an outline, really) after I listened to ep 43. Had I finished this essay before then, it’s likely I would’ve checked episode 16/other Steel conversations eventually, but the reason I looked up ep 16 was to check exactly what Steel said about Eioghorain, and then I kept reading…
7) This isn’t as relevant to the scrying business, but it is relevant to Steel’s character. I wanted to mention the other part of Eioghorain’s story from ep 43, which involved the situation with the League of Whispers and offers insight into Steel’s motivations and morals. That I can speculate on, since he provided a lot more context (and at the very least, the perfect Nat 20 insight check means that he wholeheartedly believes this information to be true). The compartmentalization of knowledge and of the Citadel itself (through its courts, academic tracks, roles, responsibilities, and its connections to the Empire) makes speculating on how Steel factors into any of these situations a black box, because we just don’t know all of the moving parts. It’s likely that she is not entirely in the dark, given her station, but she’s also not one of the Archmagi, so she likely also doesn’t have the full picture. Her title illuminates her place in this: she is the Sword of the Citadel, she is the one to take action, to do the striking down, perhaps to cut out rot, but at any given moment, what actions she can take rely upon knowledge, time, and space. She’s a really interesting mirror to Suvi’s arc of being able to take action when everything lines up and there is time. This is really demonstrable too, of this story’s underlying moral philosophy: you may know (or think you know) the right thing to do, but will you do it? If you don’t have the knowledge, time, and space, is it even possible to do the right thing? If not, what should you do with what you have? For example, Steel had a plan for how to handle Port Talon: free Naram without destroying the derrick or flooding Port Talon, arresting Morrow and his collaborators, and figuring out who in the Empire sanctioned it. Instead, quest fever happened and she missed her window to enact her plan, so she could only “[write] a letter to the Imperium saying that the Citadel disavows magic this dangerous… handling it fast and dirty got us a letter.” We will never know if Steel’s plan would work, if it was a morally good plan, or if it would have resulted in a better outcome. As we learn from Eioghorain, the Acadator (including Steel) was successful in their mission of exposing the League of Whispers (a suspected cabal in the Citadel doing research that would warp the mission of the Citadel) outside of the chain of command, only to find out that it had been sanctioned by the “leadership of the Citadel” (i.e., the Archmagi).
This is why it is so fraught to assume ANYTHING concrete about Steel’s involvement (or lack thereof) in Soft and Stone’s death right now (i.e., for those of you that heard Eioghorain’s story and went, I knew it! Steel is the Bad Guy!). There is barely any information so far about “Who knows what” and “Who knows when” regarding where, how, and when they died, to draw any sound conclusions on the matter right now. This doesn’t even consider the possibility of memory modification or erasure, given that it has already happened to Suvi, at Steel’s hand. I do think theorizing and coming up with wild speculation about that is really fun and cool and am not saying you shouldn’t do it! There just isn’t a lot of evidence to support it right now because we’re missing almost all of the information about what was happening in the rest of Umora during the Children’s Adventure.
8) Ok, I’ll get off my soap box. I know I am just a tad obsessed with analyzing this show (three lengthy essays and counting), but it is ASTOUNDING to me that just a handful of episodes and a couple pages of dialogue can birth the depth of character analysis like this. This show is a gold mine.
*Final Disclaimer: I wrote and formatted this in MS Word, converted to RTF/HTML, then pasted this into Tumblr and made final edits/formatting to the paper for readability. I pray to Enzo that there no weird formatting or spelling errors (and my apologies if there are, I proofed this so many times). Thanks for understanding!
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