#lets list out all the construction work he did for them shall we

[paintingformike]

apart from mlevens trying to claim the van scene as el’s genuine feelings for mike, one thing that also gets on my nerves is the way they make it seem like all of mleven’s relationship issues in s4 were resolved because mike and el had stellar “communication”....as if the second love interest didn’t do 90% of the work for them 😭 PUT SOME RESPECT ON WILL’S NAME!

[rockinlibrarian]

Post-Umbrella Academy S4 Reaction Part 6: Miscellaneous Thoughts and Master List (spoilers under cut)

Well, here we are! If you're just joining me, I've been spreading out my Season Four reaction essays over the past week, and now I'm finally done. Let's wrap up what we've already gone over, shall we?

"Part One: Reacting More to the Fandom than the Show," is me expressing discomfort at having enjoyed myself watching, and then coming online and seeing HATE HATE HATE. Oddly enough, as moods mellowed in both directions, it seems that I and the angry people actually have most of the same criticisms, so it's a...glass half full thing or something? Forest for trees? Horror for tenticles?

"Part Two: Still Not a Show Write-up, a Fraction of a Fanfic Instead," is when I got the most BRILLIANT (if possibly something only I would care about) idea for a fix-it, and shared the scene (from the middle) I'd spit out that day. I have gotten lots more ideas since, too! Expect a proper first chapter sometime...in the next month or so! (That's "soon" in Me-language).

"Part 3: Viktory!…ish," is me expounding on the thing I loved most about Season 4 (though also giving some tips on how it could have been improved).

"Part Four: On How to End a Story," is me expounding on the thing I liked LEAST about Season 4 (though also in a constructive way!)

"Part Five: On Love Triangles," is me expounding on probably the most controversial aspect of Season 4 (for which my opinions are mixed! Just to annoy the two extremes! Or just because that's what my opinions are, mixed, sorry)

So finally-- I couldn't stretch this out to an even seven posts, sorry Viktor-- I present to you ALL MY OTHER THOUGHTS THAT AREN'T COMPLEX ENOUGH FOR THEIR OWN POSTS! Under the cut, because I'm still trying to be unspoilery on main.

One Viktor thing I forgot to mention in his essay is that his voice has dropped like an octave (one of the reasons they had to skip a few years between seasons, I wager. The other obvious one being that there's no way Aidan Gallagher passes for Being in the Body of a 13yo anymore), and this still THROWS me. Apparently I keep character voices in my head when I’m writing, listening to their lines in their voices to keep them sounding like them, but I didn’t realize how FIRMLY the old pre-testosterone Viktor voice WAS lodged in my brain until suddenly it SOUNDS DIFFERENT. I have learned something about how my brain works with voices! It’s a bigger deal than I thought! I’m still struggling to replace the voice in my head, but I just keep immediately going to the old voice.

I’m really not sure about the career paths anyone took in the preceding six years. Ben getting mixed up in cryptocurrency, that is pretty funny— intelligent enough for him but also jerky. Allison as a(n actually) working actress, yes. Diego’s delivery driver, oddly yes, but wouldn’t it make more sense for him to have sought out janitorial work first, since he actually has experience? I already mentioned how I’m sad Viktor never got back into music— maybe a different instrument, if the violin is too traumatic. Maybe just teaching in general—he outright says in the available excerpts from Extra Ordinary that teaching was his passion. Whatever inspired him to open a bar? But at least I’m pleased he was so successful at it. Five as a CIA agent, yeahhh, that was one of the secret careers I figured all his theoretical physics students suspected him of having, but it might be a little TOO Commissiony to have sought out if he had a choice in the matter. I do think he enjoys going undercover at Keeper events though because they’re the only people crazy enough to listen to him when he tries to tell his story. But he’d never admit that. Lila is obviously unhappy about full-time momming, but why did she go that route in the first place if her parents live with them? Does Klaus not have a job? Why is it assumed he wouldn’t have a job? He’s sober now. I am still very pleased with myself for making him a VA counselor in “New World Symphony,” and I feel like everyone should embrace this headcanon of mine, because it’s genuinely good. I really don’t get Luther as a stripper —an exotic dancer— at all. I guess he was just THAT PLEASED about getting his human body back, but otherwise, how is that anything like the character we’ve known previously? Unless he’s making a point of trying to be NOTHING like his old self?

The deleted scene of Luther and Diego talking did a lot to show Luther’s mindset, and ties him back to the person he was, and it would have made his character make so much more sense if they’d included it. But it still doesn’t explain the stripper thing.

I recognized Klaus’s subplot from the comics, and was kind of proud of myself for doing so (I don’t think I’d read the comics before S3). I just wish it had anything at all to do with the rest of the story. Klaus’s deleted scene at AA is the biggest example of one of the deleted scenes making a huge difference in how different parts of the story might have landed— it wouldn’t have made his subplot affect the PLOT, but it WOULD have wrapped up his arc on a CHARACTER basis, and he would have seemed to be in a much better place to get annihilated from.

The timeline-hopping subway could have been used SO MUCH MORE, and more integrated into the main plot! I feel like they maybe intended to when they first came up with it but then never got their plot to tie together properly. At least there’s SO much fanfic potential in the concept!

I laughed aloud at the King Reg restaurant. There really should have been more of that— the end of Season 3 promised a lot more Reggie being Capitalist King of the World. Where’s Har-mart? I want my Har-mart in there. (That’s another “New World Symphony” reference).

Speaking of the promises of the end of Season 3, the Ben on the subway was so not an intermediate stage between Ben walking out of the garden and Ben getting out of prison. Who was he really, what was he going to be doing? If that’s the timeline-hopping subway, that opens up so many possibilities that were squandered!

Another Ben missed opportunity: Jennifer was in a squid. Ben has a squid(-like monster) inside him. This feels intentional but they never really followed up on it. This should have connected the two of them, not just that ANY Marigold-baby who touched Jennifer would set off the reaction. It should have been more clearly, specifically BEN. I’ve always loved the theory that “Jennifer” was the Horror’s name, and ended up using it in “A Captain with Seven Children,” so now I’m toying with the idea of what if there’s only one Squid, and Jennifer was inside the squid that was inside Ben, on some weird interdimensional level, and that’s why they feel Insta-Connection, because they’ve unconsciously known each other all along???? Doesn’t anyone else see this?!

Speaking of Jennifer, I remember somebody posting info about Season Four casting calls on Elliott’s House, and someone complaining why’d they have to scrounge up a new Love Interest Character anyway. MY theory was that she was actually a human Delores, and it wasn’t a NEW Love Interest Character at all. Well, I was half-right, it WASN’T a new Love Interest Character, it WAS someone we’d already heard about who was actually intrinsic to the plot, and I like that.

Speaking of Love Interest Characters, Sloane and Ray were done so dirty. There was no in-story reason why Sloane didn’t get remade with the others at the end of Season 3 after all. They just didn’t want her around anymore. Which, okay, you want to focus on your original cast (but then, Lila? You let Lila stick around, so why NOT Sloane?), but you could at least find a way to write her out that has some modicum of logic to it. Like, make her a Food-and-Travel writer and send her to Italy (sorry, yet another "New World Symphony" reference). And, look, I know being married to Allison is probably not a walk in the park, but Ray is not the type of guy to give up on his wife. If she’d been married to someone else, yeah, it makes sense that they’d leave her, but RAY? Totally not in character.

Speaking of previously established but not fully formed before Love Interest Characters, ABIGAIL. I said in the endnotes of the last chapter I posted of “New World Symphony” that because I was writing a straight-up AU, nothing that might happen in S4 would affect that story, but the one thing I WAS afraid of was that I might have gotten the characterization of Abigail (who, spoilers, will be showing up in Chapter Five) completely off. I had made her LESS cruel than Reggie, and she did seem likely to turn out to be a Bad Guy— but good news! Her Bad Guy turn feels not at all contradictory to her less-Bad-Guy presentation in my fic! I actually hit her personality fairly accurately!

I love the Allison and Klaus match-up— I feel like they always were friends, and they should have shown more of it in the past! It’s interesting that they seemed to be the only ones staying (deep) in each other’s lives at the start of the season. But I’m curious how they got back in each other’s lives in the first place. What made Klaus seek her out versus any of the siblings who apparently lived closer by? And what kind of overtures had Allison made to any of the others and them to her in those preceding six years? It seemed like some conversations must have taken place for things to be awkward but not so awkward that she doesn’t get invited to her niece’s birthday party.

I kind of liked Viktor’s calm “we’re not friends and that sucks but,” in order for them to get past their MASSIVE unresolved issues, but it didn’t feel quite past enough by the end. We may never be friends, but we will always be family, and I will stand by you, sort of thing, would have been enough.

I think the writers mixed up October and December. Why is Gracie’s birthday in December, when Lila was already several months pregnant at the beginning of April? October makes more sense. And yet Ben apparently died in October, even though the weather was pretty Decemberish at his funeral. Although, come to think of it, that could also have been a subconscious Viktor effect. Doubt Reggie rushed home to him and went, “Before we tell you what happened to your brother, take an extra dose of your pills! Just to be on the safe side!” Hence, a slightly unseasonal snowfall centered around Hargreeves manor.

Watching the teen Hargreeves interact is always fun. I liked that Viktor and Ben were hanging out— lends credence to the common assumption that they WERE friends (if not as close as V & Five were) as kids, and I appreciate that as someone who submitted a “567 are friends” fic to Masked Author this year. I also liked the alternate timeline Academies Five and Lila ran into.

Speaking of teenagers, or preteens, or however old she is, I never expected Claire to have such a big role, and I love her. She is clearly her mom’s daughter, yet remarkably well-adjusted.

Speaking of offspring, I wanted so much MORE of Diego and Lila’s kids. Gracie is such a brilliant mashup of her parents in what little moments we saw of her. But I couldn’t tell you anything about the twins, and I wish I could. Give me more generation-two cousins!

As you’ve probably gathered by my insistence on bringing up Legion throughout these essays, I always think of TUA as being tangentially connected to what I tend to think of as The Hawleyverse, what with there being SO much overlap in the crew and writers. It’s odd that the only actor overlap we got was Kate Walsh and Nick Offerman, both of whom had small side roles in one season of Fargo each, though. And I'm thinking of Fargo now, because I thought there was something very Fargo-esque about the introduction of Jean and Gene. They’re very Fargo-esque characters in general, really. I didn’t like them that much though. And I hate that Cher song they danced to.

I also hate “Bad Touch.” Really, I expect better from this music team! Oh, I just looked it up, Maggie Phillips only picked songs for the first season, that explains it. 😅 (Even Jeff Russo was phoning it in a bit though, I have to mention because a Legion background music song just came on my computer and it’s SO DANG GOOD and the music in TUA didn’t really give me that feeling this season). That said I DID like all the songs I HADN’T heard before, the subway song especially. Also, I appreciated them using Tommy James’ “Think We’re Alone Now” in the final scene, that seems like something the Proper Timeline got right, erasing that Tiffany version from our memories. Sorry! That album was such a cringey part of my childhood. I don’t like that the “oldies” station is now playing the Tiffany version instead of the Tommy James version.

But to end on a good note: The Deli of Fives. How utterly entertaining is that. Also, if “Max” is the name Grace would have given him if he wanted it, it fits him. King of All the Wild Things. May that brilliant kid now move on into a long and storied career. Or may he focus on college and get a Real Job, whatever works for him I guess.

That’s all I can think of off the top of my head. Feel free to converse with me on any of these thoughts! I really like being conversed with! It helps me know I’m not invisible! Viktor-complex, you know.

[richardsphere]

Leverage Redemption Log: The Tower Job

Episode title reminds me of the Tarot card, representative of destruction and calamity. (Dont quote me on it, but I've been told the card represents the tower of Babel?) Which then reminds me that in episode 2, Harry's old boss mentioned a client that worked in construction and cut safety regulations and cut safety regulations. Could be this episode? --- Episode starts: Man is yelling at his employees at a construction site that they're not cutting enough corners for his liking. (I smile smugly) floors start shaking, lights are flashing (I stop smiling, but remain smugly) The building collapses, workers inside while asshat overseer hides behind a taxicab (I mourn... smugly) --- Three years later the guy still has his company, a girl is standing outside with flyers trying to tell people about how 4 workers died in the collapse. (this is not believable. The upper floors were crowded with workers, Only the boss is seen getting out and the entire thing collapsed quite completely. The death-count is unrealistically low for the incident depicted.) --- In defense of the prosecutor dropping the case, its taxmoney and the bar of evidence requires a crimescene where evidence is... preserved, and a building collapse tends to, shall we say, destroy all evidence at the scene of the crime. (basically: I dont think this is going to be a case of bribery.) Sophie, you are lying your ass of. you dont usually let your clients find you. Hardison puts feelers on the web and tracks down billionaires with shady actions, investigates further and then finally you contact the clients for a meeting to check if they might have any evidence that's been covered up/not found online. (I understand a show altering the way it shows the process for purpose of narative structure, i do not apreciate a show lying about its process)

Breanna's shocked face when she realises that, publicly available information is in fact publically available. She thinks that Hardison was hacking secret databases (and in her defense he often was) but the realisation that she just had to leave the house and ask.

"Hardison bet me I couldnt learn the language. He lost" Look Elliot, at this point you need to stop denying you like a lot of the stuff Hardison likes. (bet he also speaks whatever the LOTR elf language is called) --- Male Mark is doing breathing exercises (might be legitimately traumatised from his near-death experience at the tower he cut corners on) female mark claims there is "Nothing they could find" which meanst there is definitly something. --- Breanna asks a valid question on the audience behalf, Harry gives a valid explanation.

Glass is soundproof (ominous detail), mention of a spiral-based fire escape on the roof. (eventual exit strategy for the final heist) and a fire supression sprinkler system.

On the way out Harry meets Male!Mark, and it dawns on me we're about to do one of those "Harry didnt tell the team this is one of his old crimes" story. (this is nonsense, the team did an entire heist all about getting a list of his crimes in episode 2, so having this be a secret that takes them by suprise breaks the established facts.) --- The mark is taking meds for his trauma. (so that means its Chemical Warfare time!)

"Something you forgot to mention?" Yup we're apparently doing this... Like, why go through the effort of establishing that we've stolen his old client list to then have it suddenly take Leverage Inc by suprise? This is shoddy writership. --- Oh we're doing an "Elliot does not get art" joke... Should've been Parker (I know there was an entire episode in which trying to learn apreciation for art was a thing, but i'd rather have flanderisation of established traits then this which is entirely OOC)

Good Old "operation fomo"

Ok, Harry's sneaky contract skills are cool. And now he's being asked to help make the contract with their new funding partners... I cant believe Harry himself doesnt realise the opportunities involved there. --- Ok you just gave Parker a fainting gun. (i think this tech seems a bit stretch-y, but also the explenation makes enough sense to seem theoretically plausible)

It seems like they're trying to go for a "Harry didnt mention the wall-safe to Sophie" thing in this scene, but also he's mentioning it RIGHT NOW, in the scene that IS the planning/briefing so if they are trying it falls flat. --- Elliot is inside, the rumblepacks are in place, and the Mark has an envelope that definitly doesnt contain photoshopped evidence of him cheating on his wife. (Because his true source of power is his wife's money. Destroy the marriage and render him powerless) ---

Minor note to the mirror scene, the use of "our" in "our Mr. Wilson" feels creepy.

I guess the mention of the sound-proof windows was to justify the need to set up a controll-room on the upper floor? --- The safe's papers are workman's comp? Medical benefits for the survivors? Not a smoking gun, but also out of character. Wait is my suspicion of the number of survivors being incorrect correct? Fraudulent survivors used to pocket money from their own health insurance benefits?

The envelope is actualy feigned proof of shoddy workmanship on the new tower. Female Mark and her Financiers are in the elevator. Breanna has already hacked into the elevator back during during phase 1. Stop cheering on Elliot and stop the elevator.

Suicide fake-out before a cut-to-commercial. Honestly, as far as cliffhangers go that one is particularly shameless. --- Yes Parker, the Chute Thing is real (he would not have lied to you in that roll, as you could've just asked to see it)

Ah the classic tricked-confession. ---

[rescuefield-a]

DISILLUSIONMENT ABOUT THE GOVERNMENT, DISILLUSIONMENT ABOUT HER OWN CAREER.

also known has is claire redfield an anarchist?

WELL. perhaps not in the negative form, but she sure has a lot of beef with the us government. let's go with order though.

claire's first encounter with the establishment was during her time in paris - escaping raccoon city had turned her into a final girl, infiltrating umbrella made her a terrorist. journalism spins news however they want, and obviously in a world where corruption is rampant claire's views about changing the status quo are a threat and need to die as soon as possible, even if it means she dies in the process as well.

terrasave as an ngo likes having claire in their team because she's a risk taker, she'll go to the end of the world to make sure things get done - which means she's the one always pushed out to talk about anything. in universe, if you look up on google there are probably hundreds of interviews she's held and speeches she's said, because people listen to he ( and because she's charismatic unlike the actual leaders). while at first it's a privilege, claire quickly realises she'll be a target for the enemies and a scapegoat for the allies if things go south at some point.

the whole terragrigia situation was a huge blow on claire as we see in degeneration, she even goes far as to blame herself for not realising when really it would be interesting to know how the higher ups at terrasave didn't know about it. is claire doing everybody's job around there?

then there's the whole ongoing beef with the government about how sherry and leon are being treated. in my version, claire is using her connections through terrasave to try and get custody of sherry, because she can tell that simmons has ill intentions - and in fact the moment she tries to warn sherry about it, claire loses her visit rights.

then there's leon; whatever way one sees them, it is a known fact that they were somewhat keeping in touch via emails. maybe it was for a few months, maybe it's an ongoing thing off screen, but the point of it all is that claire knows what the government makes him do ( obviously not in details but it's still enough for her to know they're assholes ) and while she carries guilt about how things ended up after she went to paris, it doesn't change that she would fight all those guys for ruining her little found family they way they did.

then obviously least but not last in the list of awful terrible moments in claire's life... neil fisher. objectively i hate the guy with a burning passion so my view of him might be even more negative than it actually is but let's go over it for a second, shall we? he leads terrasave, is in a position of power and we can assume he was very close to claire - still, he thought it would have been a good idea to mediate with wesker about a vaccine in exchange of a few labrats for her experiments because "it's for the greater good". neil is an idiot, plain and simple. and i'll tell you more, when wilson tried to buy claire's silence in exchange for the construction of schools and hospitals in penamstan, she told him to fuck off because she makes no deals with any bad guy EVER.

there's a point in claire's life where her morals, her beliefs and all the good stuff she stands for, are not met even in the ngo she sacrificed most of her life for. so claire leaves, because if you can't trust the so called good guys to do the job then what even is the point? it's not like claire lived in a fantasy world until that moment, but there's only so much corruption she can tolerate, and the moment it taints her life work she simply peaces out moving on to other organisations - except that umbrella, and everybody around it, have a shadow so dark that sometimes it's really hard to recognise who's friend and who's foe.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Betrayed" *Chapter 22*

[There aren't a lot of appropriate Lucia gifs, this is the most relatable image I could find. Rafael's not in this chapter much.]

Chapter 21

Chapter 23

Heyyy y'all.

I know this was a long time, and it's also not as long as some have been, but it's been another long week.

Trigger warning: (?) Mention of mental and physical abuse.

Yeah, this one's a bit angsty, I'll make it up to you I swear my babies!

PS- There's a hint of a reference to another Raul project, see if you catch it.

Tag List

@madamsnape921

@lolliepopsicle

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@milkshqke

@wanniiieeee

@gibbs274

@sassyada

@aprildecker-blog

@bookishfanfic

@stars-in-the-skies-world

@stars-trash-18

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@objection-argumentative

@thatesqcrush

@shittanyy

@mrsrafaelbarba

@fandom-princess-forevermore

—-------------

You were headed back to the elevator when you came upon Mrs. Barba. She was standing off in a corner of the hallway, and she was crying. She immediately tried to compose herself as soon as she saw you approaching her.

“Ahem,” She cleared her throat awkwardly; she was just as bad at being emotional in public as her son. “I was just leaving,”

You watched her awkwardly walking away from you and something just snapped inside you.

“That’s what you have to say for yourself?” You spat at her.

“Excuse me?” She asked, taken aback by your attitude.

“You used your son for a human shield and all you can say is you’re leaving?” You crossed your arms.

“Look sweetie, you have no idea what you’re talking about. So, I suggest–”

“Then explain it to me,” You crossed your arms. “Explain to me how I don’t understand. It seems pretty cut and dry to me,”

“Let me ask you something, Miss Reynolds,” She now crossed her own arms.

“Y/N,” You clarified. ‘Miss Reynolds’ was clearly established as a pet name for you to Rafael, as weird as that was.

“Right,” She nodded. “Well, Y/N: Do you remember anything clearly from your childhood?”

“What?” You looked at her strangely. “Yeah, who doesn’t–”

“How about when you were maybe 5, or 6?” She pressed. “Do you have picture perfect memories from then? Could you describe a memory perfectly to me?”

“What?” You still looked at her like she was crazy, but you tried to think of a memory, nonetheless. A perfectly clear memory from being six– what could you possibly remember?

“Uh well–” You ran through every memory you had as a child as quickly as you could. “Well, I mean maybe not perfectly–”

“Exactly!” She exclaimed. “Children interpret situations completely differently when they’re young. I’m sure there’s things from your childhood you remember that are completely misunderstood,”

“I’m sorry, are you saying Rafael ‘misunderstood’ what you did–?”

“Yes!” She cut you off, starting to cry again. “I wasn’t doing it to protect myself, I was doing it to protect him! Like I told him! I have no idea where he suddenly got the notion that I–”

“Alright, well explain that to me then,” You gestured forward with your hand as if to pull an explanation out of her.

“Can we not– here?” She looked around uneasily.

“Alright fine,” You sighed reluctantly as you noticed two chairs in a mini waiting area between sections of rooms. “Shall we?” You gestured to them.

Mrs. Barba followed your lead to the chairs and smoothed out her dress while sitting in one across from you before continuing her story.

“Look I don’t like to discuss private matters with strangers,” She stated uncomfortably. “Especially ones about my family,”

“But–?” you raised an eyebrow.

“But for Rafael’s sake, I’ll tell you,” She finished.

“More like yours, but okay,” you tried not to roll your eyes.

“When Rafael was a child, around four or five, his dad was in an accident at work,”

“An accident?” your harsh tone vanished.

“He was a construction worker,” She clarified. “A beam fell on him, and his back was severely injured,”

“Oh,” you said in a small voice, now starting to understand.

“He was put on medical leave and given OxyContin for pain management,” She explained.

“OxyContin,” You repeated. “Isn’t that that drug that caused some kind of ‘epidemic’?” You asked. You had heard about it back in the 90’s, but you weren’t exactly into watching the news back then.

“Yes. It was some new ‘miracle drug’ that you could take and ‘not’ get addicted to,” She scoffed. “Load of mierda,”

“Ah, I see,” you just nodded, knowing where this was going.

“He did get addicted to it. And it made him an entirely different person,” She went on. “I know Rafael doesn’t have any good memories of his father because he was so young when he– changed. But he was a good man! A good father,” She took a breath before continuing.

“But then he started drinking on top of the pills, and it just made things ten times worse. He’d come home in the wee hours of the morning just completely blitzed, and angry. About everything,”

“Mmmhmm…” You just let her continue, trying to keep your comments to yourself.

“After about a year, occasionally he’d start going into Raffi’s room when he got home and just start…” She paused once more while looking down at the floor. You could tell she was trying desperately not to start sobbing in front of you.

“I really did start having him sleep with me so that maybe his papa would ‘get it out’ of his system with me. He was never as hard on me as Raffi,” She went on.

“A lot of times it would work. He’d just see the two of us sleeping there, and just burst into tears about how sorry he was, and how our family deserved better. But other times; he was just so…angry about everything that had happened to him. He couldn’t help himself,”

“He couldn’t help himself?” You finally had to scoff. “Are you kidding me?”

“I’m not condoning it, Y/N,” She retorted. “I’m just– I’m saying it was hard on all of us,”

“It was hard letting your son get beat every night?” your fists began to clench at the thought of poor baby Rafael being hurt by anyone.

“It wasn’t every night!” She protested. “In fact, it only happened severely maybe once or twice. He’s made it up in his mind that it was so much worse than that,”

“So, he’s ‘making up’ the scars on his body?” You challenged her.

You hadn’t pointed them out before, but the two times you had seen Rafael sans clothes you had noticed distinct deep scars along his chest and collar bone. They were hidden by chest hair, but the way you memorized everything about him, you saw and noted every little thing about him.

“That…” She became even more nervous. “That was the last time,”

“The last time?” You eyed her skeptically.

Mrs. Barba took another long, deep inhale and exhale before looking back up at you.

“Look Y/N, Rafael doesn’t know this– in fact, no one knows this. No one living, anyway,”

“...Okay…” You started to get very worried about what she was about to say.

“One night,” She started very slowly and softly. “One night, when Rafael was six years old, his father came home blitzed out of his mind. But I had gone to the bathroom when he reached our room, so I wasn’t there to calm him down,”

She took shallow, ragged breaths before continuing, making you nervous.

“He just…lost it,” She blinked back tears. “I-I-I don’t know what happened. What he had been doing that night, or who he was talking to, or what about, but he just came home…angrier than I’ve ever seen. And he just– he lost it on Rafa,”

“Oh my god,” you whispered.

“All I heard was Rafael screaming bloody murder while his dad hit him,” She was crying now. “I tried to get him to stop, but he was too strong and too aggressive,”

“So, I–” she looked around nervously. “I went into our closet, where I knew his dad kept a gun,”

“Oh god…” You muttered uncomfortably.

“And I shot him,” She broke down completely.

“Oh, Mrs. Barba…” You put a hand on her shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to kill him, I just wanted him to stop hitting Rafael,”

“I understand,” you nodded. You had to admit if you were in same position that bastard would’ve been dead long before it had gotten that bad.

“So, I…” She tried to compose herself enough to finish her tale. “I scooped Rafael up and took him to the emergency room; He had blacked out from the pain. Then I called my mother in tears from the Hospital, explaining what I had done,”

“Oh,” You nodded again.

You realized that’s what she meant by “No one alive” knew her secret. You knew Rafael had lost his abuela a few years ago; alright so MAYBE you had googled his family back in the day. She didn’t need to know that. NOBODY needed to know that.

“She told me that she would take care of it,” She sniffled. “So, I stayed with Rafael overnight in the hospital while they fixed his shattered collarbone and broken arms and legs. My poor baby,”

“What did you tell the hospital?” you asked.

“I told them he had been hit by a car,” she said solemnly. “A hit and run,”

“Oh god,” You murmured.

“I didn’t know what else to say, Y/N!” She exclaimed in tears.

“No, I get it,” You put a hand on her knee to show her you were serious.

“So, the next day when we returned home, his dad’s body was gone. The floor was scrubbed, there were no traces of anything. And then there was a note on the bed,”

“A note?”

“My mother— well, someone, wrote a note from his ‘father’, explaining that he just couldn’t take it anymore, and that he was leaving. And never to contact him, ever,”

“What?” You gasped. “And you…you just what, let Rafael read it? Believe it?”

“Well, he didn’t understand it at the time!” She exclaimed. “And– and like I said, he doesn’t remember things exactly as they happened. He either blocked out the memory from that night, or passed out before it happened,”

“So, you just let your son think his dad ran out on him?” your voice started to raise again.

“What would you have done, Y/N? Huh?” She challenged you now.

“What would you tell your six-year-old son if you had murdered his dad? To protect him. I knew he’d just blame himself. Would you want him carrying around that guilt?”

“Well, he obviously feels guilty that he left anyway!” You argued. “He thinks he made him leave, and that you resent him for it!”

“That’s–” She looked down at the floor again. “That’s not true,”

“It’s not true that you resent him or it’s not true he thinks that? Because I assure you, he does,”

“So, you think I should tell him ‘Oh hey Raffi, you know I know you think that your dad just took off on us, but actually I murdered him to save your life’?” she asked sarcastically.

“Yes!” you threw your hands up.

“...Ay dios,” She sighed. “Look, Y/N I told you all of this because–” She stopped speaking and looked off into the distance for a moment.

“Because…?” you questioned her motives.

“...I don’t know why, actually,” She confessed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I didn’t realize how much damage I had caused Raffi by not telling him the truth. Maybe by ‘protecting’ him I made our relationship worse. But telling him now would only torment him with his ‘duty’ to the judicial system,”

“Oh right, you think he’d turn in his own mother for saving his life?” you rolled your eyes freely now.

“No, but I think he’d wrestle with it for the rest of his life,” she pointed out. Well, she had a point.

“Okay that still doesn’t explain why you would tell me, of all people,” You dismissed her comment.

“Well, maybe because I needed to tell someone,” She thought out loud. “And I know that you don’t want Rafael to hurt any more than I do, so you won’t tell him,”

“That is low, Mrs. Barba,” You let out a sarcastic laughing exhale. “I can’t believe I was actually starting to feel sorry for you,”

“I don’t need your sympathy, Y/N,” She regained her cold composure. “I just need to know you’re not going to tell Rafael,”

“I’m not going to tell him, Mrs. Barba,” you shook your head. “Because I would never betray the trust of someone, especially not family,” You heard a loud disapproving exhale at the word ‘family’.

“And we ARE going to be family,” you reiterated.

“Yes well, that’s also why I told you,” She replied.

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow. “...You’re not going to try and convince him otherwise?”

“Well, I can’t very well do that now that you have something over me, can I?” She pointed out.

“.... Is that why you told me? To save you from yourself? Because you knew you would try your damndest to get him to leave me, but you know that ultimately that would be the worst thing for him?”

“...You know you’re smarter than you look,” She finally gave you a genuine smile.

“Thank you?” You half laughed. “Look Mrs. Barba–”

“Lucia,” She put a hand on your knee. “Just don’t call me ‘mom’,”

“Right,” you rolled your eyes with a smile. “Lucia, I’m not going to tell Rafael. But I really think you should,”

“I don’t know...” she looked down at her lap nervously.

“Rafael loves you, Lucia. A LOT. I may not know tons about him, but I do know that for sure,” you told her.

“And how do you know that?” She looked up at you quizzically.

“...Because of how upset he got when you left,” you admitted.

“I think he’s had a lot of pent-up guilt about his dad, and you, and then adding on Alex and Yelena. Honestly, it’s a miracle he turned out the good man he is,”

“Ay,” She shook her head. “Si, I suppose I shouldn’t have given him such a hard time about them. I know how much that hurt him,”

“.... Don’t tell me you had something to do with that too,” your eyebrows raised in fear.

“No!” She scoffed in offense. “No, but– I knew something was off about her from the beginning. I should have taken better care of Raffi than that. Warned him,”

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna say it–” You joked, then had a thought. “...And how do you feel about me?”

“Well…” She eyed you up and down slowly while she spoke. “Seeing as the only thing I know about you is that you’re substantially younger than my son and make him…’exert’ himself–”

“Mrs. Barba, I swear to you that was ONE–okay TWO times out of a whole…two weeks, we’ve gotten to know each other—-” The more you spoke the signs on Mrs. Barba’s face let you know you were digging a bigger hole by the word.

“Alright maybe I should start over,” You began to fidget nervously, feeling your face run hot.

“Your son helped bring my cousin’s killers to justice seven years ago,” You explained. “The NYPD wrongfully shot and killed him,”

“Ah, I remember that case,” Mrs. Barba nodded as she listened. “It weighed heavily on Raffi for a while,”

“Yeah,” You agreed softly. You hadn’t really known that until Rafael had mentioned it back at your apartment, but you did now.

“Anyway,” you waved your hands as you continued. “I um– I may have ‘kept up’ with him after all these years,” You tried thinking of the best way to word “I’ve been stalking your son for almost a decade.”

“Oh?” she raised an eyebrow at your explanation. “And by ‘kept up’ you mean what, following?”

“Not like, to his house or anything,” You tried to make it sound better, but as soon as it left your mouth you just felt like it made it that much worse.

“So,” She tried to stifle a laugh. “Do you mean to tell me you’ve basically been stalking my son for seven years, Y/N?”

“I mean, ‘stalking’ is such a strong word…” You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly as you began to sweat.

“Well,” She had to smile at the thought of someone being so enamored with her son. “I guess I can’t be too mad for someone loving my son as much as that. It’s what every mother wants for their son, mmm?”

“I hope so,” You smiled a bit.

“They were taking him upstairs to a normal room when I left, would you like to come with me?” you asked her sweetly.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Mrs. Barba picked at her nails. “I don’t want to upset him any more than I have,”

“I really think it will do some good, Mrs.—Lucia,” you recalled her telling you to use her first name.

“...Alright,” She finally agreed.

—---------

You both headed up to the fourth floor where a nurse at the desk told you the room number Rafael had been taken to. You walked down the hall to room 405 and knocked softly.

“Come in,” you heard Rafael’s weak voice through the door. You opened it and walked in the room with Lucia right behind you.

“What’s she doing here?” Rafael’s voice turned cold when he saw his mother.

“Raffi,” his mother ignored his tone.

“Mother,” He replied snidely.

“Rafa…” You gave him a look.

“What?” He shrugged. “I don’t want to–”

“I think you and your mom need to talk,” you cut him off.

“I’m sorry, what?” Rafael blinked in disbelief. “What–what exactly has she said to you?”

“Nothing!” You sat on his bed and took his hand. “Well, not nothing–”

“I knew it,” he scoffed, shooting his mom a glare. “You manipulated her too? Are you trying to make her leave me, just like dad left you? Is that what I deserve?”

“Rafael!” You scolded him, making his face go from accusatory to horror. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Great, now you're my mother,” He muttered angrily.

“Is this what it’s like being with me?” You joked at his dramatics. “Because I gotta say, I don’t love it,”

“Oh sure, everything’s funny now,” He huffed.

“Alright I don’t know what has turned you into such a petulant child, but you are going to calm down and listen to your madre, Rafael,” Lucia finally stepped in so you could stop being the bad guy.

“I will not be–” He started to snark back at her.

“Your dad didn’t leave, Rafael,” You blurted out.

“Excuse me?” Rafael asked in astonishment.

“Excuse you?!” Lucia asked in anger.

“Sorry,” you apologized to Lucia. “I just wanted him to listen–”

“Oh great, what story have you spun for her now, mami?” Rafael huffed.

“Look I’m just gonna go,” You stood up with your hands out as if you were surrendering to the situation.

“Wait, Y/N–” Rafael whined like a puppy.

“No Rafael, you two need to have a serious conversation,” You leaned in close to kiss his cheek. “Just text me when she leaves,” you whispered cheekily.

“But–” he protested.

“I love you,” You blew him one more kiss and were out the door before he could protest any more.

As soon as the door closed behind you, you were almost knocked over by Dr. Wolowitz.

“Oh!” You exclaimed in surprise. “Sorry doctor, I didn’t–”

“It’s fine, Miss Y/N,” He dismissed your apology. He had more important things on his mind.

“I'm afraid you'll want to come with me,"

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 12: Changes •

A/N: The missing gaps in time are on purpose since they will be in book 2 as flashbacks, which will include references to events you have not read yet. All fluff and shenanigans this chapter to make up for last, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: brief mention of nausea and gore towards the very end, but otherwise, tooth-rotting fluff!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧

𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧' 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

              - David Bowie, Changes

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

- 𝗠𝗜𝗗 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

    "I still can't believe you went after Bowers," Richie scoffs.

    As he steps off his porch and onto his lawn he looks over at his best friend and takes another gander at the bruises and welts littering her skin. Her lip was still busted and despite his and his mother's efforts to clean her bottom lip of blood, it must have started bleeding again sometime during the night as more had crusted over.

    "Yeah, well," she shrugs. "It felt good,"

    "Yeah," he snorts. "It looks like it,"

    "You know what I mean," She elbowed him and he nodded with a little laugh.

    "What d'ya want to do? I mean, we could keep standing around here like a bunch of idiots, but-" he shrugs, hands falling into his pockets, and Y/n smiles.

    "I dunno," she shrugs. A wince falls over her face, a painful-looking one at that. "But I don't think I'm gonna be welcome back at the Capitol Theatre any time soon."

    Richie nodded, a ghostly look falling over his face at all that had transpired in the past twenty-four hours alone. He still couldn't believe she had done that. He still couldn't believe a lot of things but her being in his corner after what she had found out seemed a little harder to believe right now. Especially after the junkyard... But - Jesus, that was already a week and a half ago, it felt like only hours.

    He could hear her words from the park the other day in his ears and he suddenly felt the urge to pay her back. He smiled his charming crooked smile and hoped for the best.

    "You still craving fries?"

    "Always," she answered, a look of suspicion written in her features. "Why?"

    Y/n didn't know why she kept asking these questions when she knew the answer. She didn't at all like the look growing in his eyes or the stupid feeling of guilt growing in her stomach.

    "Cause I'm prepared to make a deal with ya toots,"

     "Oh, yeah?"

    "Sure am," he says, patting his hand over his left pocket. "I'd been saving up for a long weekend at the arcade but that's a bust. And I just got a raise on my allowance ━ that's again, toots. Allowance. It's the money you get when you do stuff for people, you might never have heard of it--"

    "Is there a point here, Rich? Cause if so, you better get to it faster,"

    "Point is, I'm packing and I'm also craving milkshakes. So how's about I treat you to the biggest pile of fries your staved ass has ever seen--"

    Y/n shoots him a knowing look, ready to detest when he holds out a finger.

    "If," he continues. "you take me there."

    "Take you there?"

    "Take me there," he nodded. "By piggyback."

    Y/n gave thought to this, all while hiding behind an unimpressed look. As much as she hated to admit it, she was starving.

    Richie shrugged. "Hey, you're the one always saying you don't want to feel like charity. Well, this ain't charity, this is work with a reward. Take it or leave it,"

    Her unimpressed look grows stronger in an attempt to buy her time. But it's useless, her stomach answers for her with a long growl and a smile sneaks up on her.

    She steps forward, crouching down a bit for him to jump on her back. "Alright, let's get this over with."

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

    "You know, I was really worried about carrying you, but dude, you weigh like nothing. You're a fucking bean pole," Y/n says.

    She comes to a slow before straightened her back letting him slide off her back and onto the ground. The two of them had arrived at the nearest diner in the town square where they now stood.

    "Well, not to brag or anything, but," he fluffs his collar. "I took a massive shit before we left,"

    "Ugh!" a shocked and uncomfortable laugh breaks loose from Y/n and she sticks out her tongue in disgust. "Regretting this already."

    She threw open the doors and the two found themselves inside one of Derry's lesser diners.

    It smelled like sausage and coffee beans, and it had a vibrant red and black theme. There were maybe nine or ten people there, little kids included and they could hear the jukebox blasting a David Bowie song. Y/n had a hard time enjoying it with the combination of a full bladder and an empty stomach so she turns to Richie and nudges him with her elbow.

    "I'm gonna run to the restroom. Get us a booth?"

    "Do your thing," Y/n nods and disappears around the corner. As his eyes follow her, they land on the corner in question she had disappeared around where there sat the jukebox.

    He wanders over, eyeing the machine as Changes reaches a crescendo. A mischievous smile blooms as the lights from the window illuminated his face.

    "Three plays for a dollar, huh?"

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

    When Y/n returned from the restroom, she had expected to find Richie lounging in a booth somewhere, feet up and bugging the employees. She did not expect to turn the corner and nearly collide with the boy as he stood at the Jukebox and feeding all his money into it.

    "Dude! I carried you here, you owe me fries!"

    "And you shall get them my liege," answered Richie in a Shakespearean tone. "But first!" He dropped the act and looked away from the Jukebox for the first time, wearing an almost evil grin. "A social experiment,"

    Y/n's brow furrowed as she watched Richie punch in the same Tom Jones song over and over and over. It was then she caught on to what he was doing. She held out a hand as her eyes watched the Jukebox.

    "Hey, hey, hey, wait," she said, stopping Richie in his tracks.

    He looked up at her with a pout. "Relax, toots. I saved just enough for their biggest basket of fries, you'll get them." Then Richie saw the look on her face. He could practically see the gears turning.

    "No, not that. It's just..." she said, eyes never leaving the list of songs. "Before you put in more, you should throw in one It's Not Unusual,"

    And that's when the afternoon went from good to great.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

    By now, the duo had ordered and waited. They now sat tucked into a corner booth with a great view of the street corner and the passers-by of Derry. Changes had long since ended, and the remaining songs in the queue had trickled out. Richie memorized the song queue and was silently counting down until the big moment as he sat across from his battered-up best friend.

    Her busted lip poked out in a bored pout, her chin propped up on her palm as she balanced her head on the table while looking out at the graying town landscape. It always escaped her how Derry could possibly look so gloomy on even the hottest, brightest days of summer. Until recently that is, the truth all too clear to her and her friends now.

    The thought of the Losers scattered all over this hellhole only added to the gloom. They should all be here, together. Pointlessly debating which condiment goes best with fries, not fighting over... Over what they had fought over.

    Y/n's eyes finally broke away from the manhole at the center of the little intersection outside and wandered over to Richie. He had stolen the salt and pepper shakers from a few empty (and not so empty) tables and was currently doing his best to construct a salt and pepper shaker tower. His tongue was sticking out from between his curled lips and his glasses were sliding to the end of his nose at the angle he looking. The tower was nearly three shakers high and Y/n could hear him muttering, 'where's Haystack when you need him?' under his breath.

    The gloom Y/n had been thinking so intently on was suddenly ebbed away at the sight, and the corners of her lips hooked into a small smile.

    At least she had her favorite Trashmouth.

    "If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I'm gonna catch a cold," said Richie, never once looking up from his tower.

    Y/n snorts. "You're unbearable,"

    Richie shrugs defensively. "Hey, you're the one who said we're stuck with each other," he clicks his tongue and winks. "No going back on that kind of deal,"

    "Oh, I meant what I said," Y/n releases her chin and folds both arms on the table. She hated getting all serious again, but she just needed to be sure. Her voice softens, trying to catch Richie's eye. "All of it, okay?"

    Richie's hand around the salt shaker stops, and he pries his eyes off the tower and to his best friend. Despite her intentions and promises, everything that transpired the day before -- good and bad -- flooded over him and made him tense.

    She suddenly offered him her pinky and a small smile.

    "Stuck forever?"

    Richie rolls his eyes. He didn't quite know who to blame, maybe just the losers in general, but he was going all soft and lame.

    "Like my ass and a toilet seat, toots,"

    He locked his pinky with hers and the deal was sealed forever.

    Y/n leaned back on her side of the booth and took a large swig of the complimentary water as her eyes returned to the streets. The chatter of the diner had died down a little. There weren't as many people since they got there, but they were still filtering in and out. But when Y/n had a hard time shaking off the images she had of her best friend in the state he had been, she deems it safe enough to lean forward and lowered her voice.

    "You know," she began picking at her napkin, making slow and tiny tears here and there. "I--" she sighs, not knowing how or where to begin. "I wouldn't blame you."

    Richie, having abandoned his shaker tower, frowns.

"I wouldn't blame you if maybe, it was -- or is hard to be..." she shakes her head again and rubs her forehead trying to find the words. "I wouldn't blame you if it was hard to be around me and Eddie," She blurts.

    "I'm gonna stop you right there," Richie says. "We're not gonna do that, okay? You have exceeded your sappy meter and you're gonna need to wait about 48 hours for it to charge up again. I think we've both had enough, right?"

    Y/n swallowed her words. She swallowed any promise she was holding out to him that their feelings for Eddie wouldn't change anything. That she wouldn't ever want to stand in their way, however true it was. And instead, she made a new one.

    "Let's just agree, whatever happens, happens. Let that be whatever it needs to be. Even if that means neither of us gets to see that adorable, asthmatic pipsqueak ever again. Deal?"

    Y/n fought the bittersweet smile threatening to appear. She could see it now. Richie knew what he needed to know about himself now, and that was already a lot for him to handle. She could see in his eyes he wasn't ready for the possibility of whatever was his feelings for Eddie Kaspbrak.

    Y/n's stomach turns to knots when the thought crosses her mind, but that only confirms to her it was time.

    She looks around the diner, looking for prying eyes and she still finds none. She leans in, voice lowered as she fiddles with her napkin again. "I'm uh--," she clears her throat. "I've never told anyone this, but..."

    She lets out a sharp breath. "Well, let's just say Eddie isn't the first Loser I've ever had feelings for,"

    Richie shakes his head, making a "what am I supposed to do with that?" face at her sudden shyness. She only gives him a solid stare until it finally clicks.

    Richie collapses against the seatback with a gaping, triumphant look.

    "No. Fucking. Way," Richie slaps his hands on the table and leans forward, and an ugly excited laugh comes barreling out of his chest. "You big homo!"

    "Would you fucking shut up?!" Y/n hisses, reaching over and shoving him back against his seat by his forehead. She looks around the diner and determines no one had heard that. Maybe except one guy in his forties, but that was most likely about him knowing they did something to the jukebox. He was sat with his young kids, looking tired and all too suspicious of their laughter at the jukebox. Finally, she laughs a little. "Beep, beep you moron."

    "You telling me you and Little Orphan Annie...?"

    "I'm saying," Y/n sighs, shrugging her shoulders. "I meant it when I said you're not alone, alright?"

    The look in Richie's eyes hardly changes.

    "No!" She answers. "No, nothing's happened but..." Y/n shook her head. "I had feelings for a really long time, up until about two years ago."

    "Wowza," Richie sighs, leaning back into his seat and plopping one hand on the table. He sighs. "We sure know how to pick em,"

    "Yeah, you could say that," Y/n laughs.

    In fact, that's all she could say. A million things ran through her head, things she wanted to say to Richie but couldn't. Cause when she looked in Richie's eyes at that moment she -- they both -- knew everything unsaid could remain that way. With one look they knew. They knew that they could both count on each other, have each other's back. And that included Eddie too. They knew that no matter who held Eddie's heart, they could both agree that Eddie's happiness -- and each other's -- was most important.

    The sound of brass instruments invaded the atmosphere, pulling the duo's eyes to the jukebox across the diner. Their faces lit up in matching grins, both of them nearly forgetting the psychological horror they had just unleashed upon the diner.

    "What's new pussycat? Woah, wo~ah,"

    And thus began the best meal they ever had.

- 𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

    Y/n relished at the demanding burst of cool air that bombarded her sweaty skin as she stepped inside Keene's pharmacy. The grip on the money she had scraped together tucked tightly in her right palm grew tighter when the shopkeeper's bell announced her arrival. Her eyes fell to her injured leg, and by now her feet have already begun their journey forward towards the first aid supplies. The last of the bandages secured around her leg, and she winced at the faded and stained cloth that was in dire need of a change.

    Her eyes pick up from the ground when she hears a choked gasp only to find the boy that had been occupying her thoughts standing before her.

    "Y/n," His voice is meek and heavy with sadness, and you can hear the absence of breath in his lungs that she always seemed to create.

    Despite the staggering stampede of emotions she felt, she found herself releasing a chuckle. "Hey, shrimp."

    The name itself would have been strong enough to send hooks into the corner of his lips, tugging them into a half-smile had it not been for the sight before him; she was a wreck. Looked as if she had been put through an actual wringer and his heart stops for a moment, in fear. At that moment he is grateful he has his inhaler, Y/n had a talent for taking his breath away but he never would have dreamed of it happening this way. Already his mind is going at twice its speed, a mad swarm of thoughts that dizzy his head, and as quickly as he can he tries to pluck one - just one - thing to say to her. When he finally speaks, he is thankful that his voice has returned to him.

    "How's your leg?"

    He doesn't have to ask, the first thing he saw - the very feature that tipped him off about her - was the blood-soaked bandages wrapped around her left calf. He couldn't imagine why it would still be bleeding, much less this profusely given how long ago it had been. Perhaps it had opened back up. And Eddie felt it best not to address the new set of scrapes and bandages that were scattered across her arms and legs, though each one filled him with worry. But her eye... it was completely swollen, and several shades darker than a usual bruise.

    She grew rather sick looking at the question and instantly he was filled with dread. Had It gotten to her again? Was it something new entirely? Either way, he felt a great deal of guilt he hadn't been there, and more than anything he wanted her safe. Maybe, if it wasn't too crazy, be the one to look out for her. To protect her.

    "I just," she swallows thickly, eyes darting around to avoid his eye line.

    Eddie tilts his head, encouraging her to continue. She looks as if she's about to unload a great deal off of her chest, but after a moment she shakes her head.

    "Nothing," she lies. "Just need new bandages."

    Eddie's horrified expression does not waver, but only intensifies, zeroing in on her. He just simply can't ignore the state she's in. And while every instinct inside him screams to jump in and help, he knows that's not his call nor his place. But he had to ask, he had to know.

    "Are you okay?" He blurts suddenly. He mentally slapped himself. Of course she wasn't. "What happened...? You're leg? You're eye? Are you in trouble at home? Was it...?"

    She grows tense, and Eddie scolds himself once more when he sees her walls rebuilding themselves. He hated his stupid word vomit sometimes.

    "No, Eddie!" she says tiredly, sighing at her slight outburst. "I'm..." she sighs again, staring at the floor, looking almost... calculated.

    Finally, she picks her head back up, her expression flat, but her tone a bit softer. "Just Bowers. The usual."

    Eddie couldn't help but feel like she was lying. And that hurt him. But he understood. If she had pressed him about things at home he probably would have done the same. Eddie sighed deeply as well.

    He missed the way things were.

    He missed Y/n.

    He missed the feeling he got around her, the storm of butterflies and mind-numbing fits of laughter they'd bring out in one another. He missed the way his skin would tingle like every blood cell was on fire when their skin accidentally brushed together. Eddie missed the way he'd lose himself in thoughts about her like he was now.

    Eddie didn't realize it until that last thought crossed his mind, but this was the first time in weeks he felt something other than anxiety and fear. And maybe he was crazy, but when he looked in Y/n's eyes now he thought he saw it too -

    "I'm sorry, Eddie," she says, breaking him from his daydream, sending him falling back down to earth. "But I really need to take care of this."

    He glances down at her leg, the bandage still soaked with blood and he feels fear squeeze his chest again. She was leaving. And that meant he had to, as well. He would have to say goodbye and go back home to his mother. He could hear her haunted cries, whining at him and wailing. What took you so long, Eddie? Don't you know what you're doing to my heart?

    Eddie goes rigid at the thought when he realizes; the last time he saw Y/n... Those horrible things his mother had said to her and he... Jesus, what she must think.

    "Y-Y/n," he sputters desperately as she begins to limp around him. She had gotten no answer for once again he had gotten lost in his thoughts. But he couldn't have it end like this. He just couldn't. "Y/n, I'm sorry."

    She stops in her tracks and looks back at him, thoughtfully. A sad smile graces her face.

    "I know, shrimp,"

    Her eyes hold a thousand words, a million things she wants to say to him as he wants to say to her. But they die out, and she turns away.

    "Y/n!"

    He couldn't let her go, he just couldn't. Then why was this so difficult? He always had a mouthful to say, but around Y/n L/n, Eddie was always speechless.

    "I wanna..." he gulps, a pleading, sincere look in his eyes. "I wanna see you again." He admits.

    Y/n smiles sadly. Like she doesn't want to let him go either. But still, she gives him a pleading look after gesturing to her leg.

    "Eddie, I gotta take care of this,"

     His head sunk to the floor and he nodded, embarrassed. Of course, what the hell was he thinking? She didn't need him coming in and messing things -

    Her sudden sigh broke his thoughts. "Meet me outside in five? I could use some help,"

     A nervous smile broke out, stretching and hurting his cheeks and Eddie nodded when he met her eye. He was out the door without another word, back in the alley where he had first bandaged her up all those months ago.

    His mind raced with possibility and more unanswered questions. What would he do, what would he say? What had happened to her, and could he have been there to stop it? His face still burned with embarrassment when he thought of the things he let his mother say to her, how livid he was with himself.

    It was all he could do not to bounce off the walls from the jitters. The crates from the last alley visit, or at least some like it, remained and so Eddie eagerly took a seat. His knee bounced up and down at unnatural speeds as his mind raced, his eyes wandering the alley as the wind swept in a familiar summer breeze against his cheeks.

    "I really need to focus right now," he orders, his hands making delicate work of the bandage over the new kid's stomach.

    "You need to focus?" Richie snorts over his shoulder, causing Eddie's cheeks to burn.

    "Yeah, can you go get me something?"

    "Jesus! What do you need?"

    "Go get my bifocals. I hid 'em in my second fanny pack."

    Y/n leaned forward, balanced on her knees with a crooked smile that would with Eddie for days. "You have a second fanny pack?"

    The burning in his cheeks grew, and Stan joined in. "Yeah, why do you have two?"

    Eddie didn't dare meet anyone's eye, let alone Richie or Y/n's.

    "I need to focus right now and it's a long story. I don't want to get into it."

    Besides! He was telling the truth! He needed to focus. Who knows what kind of shit has gotten into this kid's system by now?

    Eddie had nearly finished with the new kid's bandages when he heard the jingle of the store bell.

    "Yep. Thanks." Came the hardened voice of Y/n backing out and towards the alley with a pressed and forced smile before turning for the alley and away from whoever she had been talking to. Eddie was the only one to have caught the small whispered words under her breath from the silence of the alley. "-for nothing, I guess..."

    Eddie shot up from his seat, subconsciously straightening out his shirt.

    "Everything okay? What was that all about?" He asked as Y/n finally joined him. Eddie sputtered, mentally kicking himself for prying. "I mean, you don't have to tell me or anything, it's just you seemed frustrated. You know what never mind, you probably want to get your leg fixed up, right?"

   Eddie stopped again, shifting on his feet when he realized Y/n must be waiting to talk. "Sorry," he mumbled. And to his great surprise, she smiled.

    "Don't be. I've missed your word vomit," she joked.

    Eddie could feel the corners of his lips twitching up in a smile, and something happened to him he hadn't felt in a long time; flutters invaded his chest, making the air he breathed feel lighter and his stomach was doing flips. And he would have fallen harder had he known Y/n's stomach was doing flips right along with him, and a burning sensation lighting up her neck and ears.

    "Well, here-" Eddie said, snapping out of his daze, no longer able to stand by and ignore the gash in her leg. He supposed it really was like old times. He stepped aside, gesturing for the crates and taking the bag of supplies Y/n had handed over.

    "For real though," Eddie began, eyeing her nervously as he unzipped his fanny bag and begun fishing inside for hand wipes. "What happened, Y/n?"

    Her smile fell, and her eyes dropped to her lap where her fingers fiddled together. To Eddie, it felt like a long time before she finally answered.

    "A lot's happened since Niebolt, I'll leave it at that,"

    Eddie nodded, and stepped forward, lowering himself to his knees before her injured leg, and began unwrapping the first of the supplies from her grocery bag. "It feels like years ago,"

    "Yeah, it does," Y/n croaks.

    There's another small silence and Eddie feels a tug in his chest when her eyes linger over him. He only spares a moment to meet her eyes back before taking a deep breath and holding it. With a wince, he unraveled the cloth and quickly discarded it. He tried not to linger on the injury; the edges of her claw-like scars remained, but it looked as if they had been messily pried back open.

    Like deja vu, Eddie found himself battling to keep his lunch in his stomach, but the overall worry in his system for one of his best friends triumphed over it this time around. He dismissed the urge to gag and instead darted his eyes to Y/n in between his work.

    "So..." he asked, realizing he didn't really know where to start. "how have you been? Other than, you know," he laughed nervously.

    To his relief, Y/n smiled.

    "It's hard not being around the losers. I only ever see Richie anymore. Even Bev and I haven't really spoken since the fight, which has been really hard. We've been in each other's lives for so long,"

    As Eddie finishes cleaning the wound, his heart sinks a little at her words. True, he missed Beverly very much. But he also knew all too well what Y/n spoke of, and judging by the look in her eye as she softens at him, she knows it too. She gives him a gentle nudge with her foot.

    "He misses you too," she says, growing another small smile. "Won't shut up about you, in fact. Which is saying something... Guess I'm one to talk, though," she adds, watching him nervously out of the corner of her eye, and Eddie's heart skipped another beat.

    "What about you, shrimp? Dare I ask?" She says with a smile.

    Eddie, Y/n noticed, had been unusually quiet. By now, on any other occasion, he would have talked laps around her by now but something was keeping him. Maybe he just feels a bit out of step, she thinks, as she did. It had been far too long since things had been normal for either of them. But something told her he was now particularly quiet perhaps because he wasn't all that eager to share how things had been for him since the losers split. She couldn't imagine things had been well at home with his mother given everything that had transpired.

    So she didn't pry. She changes the subject, hoping to get his mind off of whatever might be bothering him. Her mind returns to his previous questions, and she bites the bullet.

    "Quitting my job." She says finally, stunning Eddie enough to pull his attention away for a split second. "You wondered what I was doing there. And aside from restocking, I was um... I was quitting my job."

    "You got a job at Keene's Pharmacy? When?" Eddie asked, reaching for a strip of gauze.

    Y/n seemed to think about it for a minute, counting the days in her head before shrugging. Leaning forward, she holds the gauze in places Eddie begins applying the bandages. "I guess a little over two weeks after Niebolt. I did little things around the store, this and that really,"

    "How come I never saw you?" Eddie asked, and Y/n shrugged.

    "He had me running errands most of the time," and she smiled a little. "But sometimes I'd stick around a little longer. I'd offer to sweep or restock the shelves or something. It's stupid, I know, but... I don't know, I guess I was hoping to see some admittedly cute... shrimpy little dude come walking in to refill his inhaler. Is that stupid?"

    Eddie paused, unable to hide the smile or the raging blush taking over his face. Y/n smiled to herself when she saw it, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't feeling a little bit of it too. Finally, Eddie spoke. Or at least, he tried to. His voice came out hoarse and he cleared his throat, quickly shaking his head as he secured the bandages in place and began disinfecting his hands.

    "No. No, that's not stupid at all. I mean, I don't know if I'd say shrimpy, necessarily, maybe a little skinny but-"

    Y/n laughed, smiling hard at the boy she hadn't stopped thinking about for weeks. Like Eddie, she hadn't realized just how much she had missed him until now. But, she hoped, maybe she could change that.

    Eddie trailed off, his ears burning at her laugh but a smile on his face all the same. At this moment, everything was perfect. Or seemingly so, at least. And then...

    "Thanks, Doctor K,"

     He smiled, a sinking feeling in his chest knowing what was coming next as she hoisted herself back on her feet. "Yeah, of course."

    A silence falls over the two, a silence they know won't last.

    "I guess I should get going," Y/n says finally, gesturing down the alleyway. "I'm meeting up with Richie later, he's swinging by my place." And for a moment, she looks hopeful and Eddie already knows what she's going to ask. "You're welcome to come. We both really miss you,"

    Yet again, Eddie Kaspbrak finds himself with a million thoughts racing in his head, but no words on his tongue. What could he say that wouldn't hurt her? What could he say that wouldn't essentially admit he was still a coward who couldn't stand up to his own mother? What could he say?

    But evidently, he doesn't have to. Y/n can see it in his eyes, and any trace of hope deflates with her. She nods sadly, eyes now on the ground and her freshly bandaged leg. "I get it, Eddie. It's fine. You don't have to say anything."

    "Y/n..." He didn't know what felt worse; knowing he let her down, or the sound of her using his real name.

    "Really, it's okay,"

    But it wasn't okay. And Eddie knew that. Today he had been given a second chance with Y/n, and already he had fucked it up. Or so he thought...

    A smile returned to her face just before she left; it wasn't nearly as bright as it had been moments ago, but it was as real as any other he had seen all summer. And then she spoke. She spoke the three words over her shoulder as she disappeared out of view that returned a familiar spark to his chest.

    "I'll call you."

    There was hope yet.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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[grimoire-of-seven]

𝑶𝒃𝒆𝒚 𝑴𝒆: 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒆 𝑾𝒆𝒅?

Part 3.1: Solomon's Route

Ratings: SFW

Word Count: 910

Characters: Solomon + Gender-Neutral Reader

Notes: Hello, darlings. We decided to provide the trinity their own route to help you [or not?] as to who would you put a ring on.~ I hope you would enjoy this short little tale before your wedding with one of the boys. Vote away too here.~

To have silver or gold cutlery for the reception. 

That is fairly an imposing question for tomorrow's feast. 

Able to take yourself momentarily out after a few last minute questions with regards to your own wedding, a breath of fresh air was it to be outside. 

"You know, we could just always elope.~" 

"And miss out all the hard work I put in?" 

Chuckling at his own remarks only to stop with yourself frowning over, the silver-haired human reached out for your hand and entwined his. 

"The preparations are all spectacular, love. Just like you.~" 

Cheeky as ever, his sentiments only brought more thoughts of the planning in your head, somehow wanting to re-check the list when Solomon intruded seeing you knitting your eyebrows together; “Darling, why are you still fretting?”

Embracing your shoulder with his arm outstretched as the two of you walked to the twinkling lights by the street, nudging your shoulders with his warm touch, you noticed there were lesser crowds passing by. Eyeing the windows of every shop, it became apparent that only those who could afford could enjoy waltzing in them. 

Alas, it could never outshine where you are crossing, with snowflakes falling to your nose and hair, the winter nights in Devildom surely are serene - and cozy if with a special someone. Caught up with the place, Solomon softly added in;

“There is not much to worry, love.. We have all the demons we have a pact with, your brilliant mind, the whole kingdom wanting to see us giggle at the altar, how about let’s just talk about where we are headed off after getting married? Besides, you are so skilled with these festive events.~” 

For a moment, all of what he mentioned was true - a slight hint of pride filled you with that compliment and having more than a village that could help you both to the preparations, more so of constructing your ideas to a reality considering Solomon is able to command his demons to create something fruitful to the future for you both. Alas, it necessarily did not take that much longer for the venues and preparations to be set.

Sighing and taking your eyes from the pathway to him, flustered to even talk about honeymoon when his lips had a smug feature which only made you second-guess whether it was genuine or sarcastic despite his tone suggesting the former; 

“Skilled, you say?” You cooed. 

“Well,” he smirked, “Diavolo himself has always been dependent on you alongside the demon brothers… Maybe except with regards to swapping clothes, no?”

Hitting his waist with your elbow, he laughed and so did you after getting even, seeing him raise and wave his vacant hand in surrender before planting a kiss on your head;

“I tell you what, doll, how about I carry you off for dinner?”

Stretching his arms to open a door where you both momentarily paused and stood, the place was overwhelmingly lavished with exquisite furnishing, making your steps stammer entering in. Inside, the air was filled with a rich delicious aroma as waiters elegantly dressed walked around with delights onto their tray, and it did not take long before your tummy would roar in demand to consume and be filled - making your partner laugh if it were not a soft small pinch on his arm.

"You and your tummy are adorable, love.~" was all he whispered in your ear. 

Walking towards the receptionist, the sorcerer motioned a table for two and were accordingly guided to somewhere vacant, a non-existent difficulty considering how there were more tables unfilled than occupied. Settling down, menus handed over whilst the cutlery and table mat were placed to your seat. 

Opening it up, with one look, it was evident all of them costs more than your monthly budget, both in your world and Devildom where you could make the brothers work for you. Nudging his toes below the table with your shoes as your love’s eyes were fixated at the menu, he soon spoke before the attendee could return to their station, relieved that he got your queue.

“How about we will both have the best in your restaurant?” 

Hold on..

Eyes wide shot as you looked at him in disbelief considering how both of you are not carrying enough grimoires to pay for tonight’s meal. Wondering if it were ever too late to pray for the Avatar of Greed’s card to magically appear on your pockets or to just run away and pretend to have some prior commitments to attend to, Solomon only dug two graves deeper. 

“You see, my lovely fiance/e and I are to be wedded and we were wondering which restaurant would cater for our reception and we saw lovely reviews about your food that we decided to have a try on it.~”

Fiddling over where your coins were in your pockets, they were definitely just pennies compared to the prices per meal at the restaurant, let alone could it afford a cup of coffee with your balance as changes from last minute shopping for decors. 

More so, have we not agreed having Luke and Barbatos arrange for the graces at the after party? 

“Oh,” seeing the worker flustered either to the compliments or his smile, “Well, sir, I could talk to the chef and we could perhaps make an arrangement so you could have a taste of our specials, no charges need.”

Eyeing the person accommodating you two before opening your jaw, Solomon winked and grinned, his hand outstretched to entwined with yours.

“Now, Shall we instead.. talk about our honeymoon?”

[probably-haven]

A bit ago, I saw a reblog(wasnt sure if u were comfortable with me tagging you or not) of my first Archon War Era Venti post that asked how I came up with the phrases, so I figure I could explain those two and maybe construct a few more sayings or language things from the archon war as another example.

So for the first one "a riptide of mortal blood". I started out with an intention, wanting to display the violent nature of the archon war so I knew I wanted the saying to have something to do with blood. And since a lot of Venti's character tends to blue the lines between mortality I wanted to stress the fact that he is very much immortal. This is where the distinction between ichor and mortal blood was formed. And because apples are a simple thing, after a few tries I decided the meaning of the phrase would have to do with insignificance.

So I had a few components at my disposal- ichor, mortal blood, violent origins, and insignificance. So to stress insignificance by distinguishing mortality from immortality I looked at a few options. An event, a technique, a saying, a misunderstanding, an object, a person, a simplification, and just general morbidity that could have occurred, since these are where idioms and sayings often come from. And I came up with the idea of slaughtering mortal followers(inspired by the idea of burning and salting crops during invasions).

So then I played around with the order of the words for a bit, dwelling on "outweighed" and "balance" and "spiralling" before eventually my mind focused on the modern phrase "the tides of war" and other variations. And since blood is liquid and all, I decided to use a water metaphore. Then It just came down to refinement and expansion

Ichor washed out by mortal blood/the finest ichor (erosion synonym)/ the thickest ichor/strongest/purest(I did like this one cuz of the simultaneous blood purity connotations)/ and eventually settled on "most potent ichor"

And then I brought up power thesaurus and looked up a bunch of synonyms for tide- like current, waves(waves of battle made this one tempting), dam(breaking dam and similar metaphors), leak, and eventually settled on riptide for the more dangerous vibes it gives off.

Then came the joiner- again, I sorted through a lot of things like outweighed, imbalanced, overcome, drowned, squandered, hidden, but then I remembered a thing about sharks smelling blood diffused into an Olympic swimming pool or something like that so I latched onto the word and there you have it

"Even the most potent of ichor diffuses amongst the riptide of mortal blood"

-

"Storm of many clouds" was on the spot because I was like 'oh I should get something from Decarabian's era. Oh storm god! Wow team work! Sounds like a song lyric or something so hard could have said it, lmao clouds go brrrrrrr. And threw that one together so I'm not all that proud of it, especially since I used the same "noun of adjective noun" structure as the first one which was kind of repetitive on my part but oh well! Onto the next one!

-

So examining our options we have: An event, a technique, a saying, a misunderstanding, a simplification, an object, a person, and just general morbidity that could have occurred. And keep in mind that a lot of sayings come from either metaphors, or from literal sayings losing their meanings.

So what we do then is put yourself in the context of the archon war and start listing the things mentioned before, brainstorming different things that could fit into our option categories. And while you're at it and thinking of imagery, brainstorm associated words.

Event: Sal Vindagnir, Fall of Decarabian, A specific alliance, A specific betrayal, salt goddess's fall, guizhong's death

Technique: (I could brainstorm for hours don't tempt me)

Saying: (hard to brainstorm if you don't actually know any- sayings that can be shortened)

Misunderstanding: a God's powers, who did certain things, intentions behind an action, false evidence, divine manipulation

Objects: temples, altars, sacrifices, divine weapons, specific powers

Person: Guizhong, Salt Goddess, Xiao's God person, the Yakshas, adepti, Decarabian, Andrius, Barbatos, Celestia

Morbidity: God's revived through karma, executions

Words: Fire, steel, heavenly principles,

So I could probably keep brainstorming but let's look at what we have and pull out some favorites. For now I'm going to focus on "a betrayal"

now I'm not sure if we know any specific instances of betrayal during the archon war, but if there were, there could be a saying or phrase in which people would refer to someone who seemed shady or untrustworthy with a phrase like "they could be a [insert name of whoever the betrayer was]" which many idioms are actually oddly short like "loophole" which came from holes in walls that archers would use but that were big enough for small people to sneak into place through.

-

That's simple though so let's make another

This time we'll focus on gods revived through karma

so Xiao’s story describes these as “countless manifestations of their vengeful remnant souls, but in doing so, he caused these souls to become increasingly fractured”

so we can latch onto a few things from this: “souls” and the idea of broken things persisting

now- there will be an initial phrase or idea and then a simplified version

so as the origin: dead god’s who after being slayed had a vengeance that continued burning so brightly that their soul continually returned to the material plane only to be fractured time and time again. 

now how can we painfully over simplify this to make it apply to normal life. 

replace a few terms and frame them as concepts:

[people] [defeat/offended/minor inconvenience] [a reoccurring thing] [annoyance] [persistence] 

so whatever this phrase ends up being- it can end up referring to a minor inconvenience that just refuses to go away. 

and now to pick out words and make the actual phrase

so we already have some strong words in the previous description: soul, fractured, dead gods, vengence/vengeful. but lets add some more descriptive terms to stress the violent nature of the saying’s origins: slaughtered, divinity, revived, vestigous, wrath

and lets puzzle piece these words together- (wheeze- this is so much easier if i let myself use the word “of”

“vengeance-sworn soul”/ “divity’s shattered/fragmented will”/ “lingering vestige of slaughter”

and now to use filler words because these dont really make sense

“divity’s fragmented souls shall carry on through unending slaughter”

which i could probably go back and make it sound better, but it seems very human to refer to that fly thats been in your room for the past week as an “unending slaughter” or a “fractured divinity” or something so- yeah- 

its not my best work but thats the gist of how i come up with them. 

-

if anyone who happens to see this wants to try their hand at archon war sayings then feel free because i just think this kind of thing is fascinating

[thiswasinevitableid]

Indruck 22 for the meet uglies?

Here you go! I went SFW on this one

you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship

“...such a waste of money. I mean, why spend all that to get something tacky on your skin?”

Indrid rolls his eyes at Barclay from across the counter of the Amnesty Lodge coffee shop, the cooks arms and hands sporting a plethora of tattoos rivaled only by Indrid’s collection.

“I dunno, l like the one I got.” The other man--who seems to be on the worst first date of his life--shrugs.

“You honestly think you and Juno couldn’t have spent that money on something else in college?”

“I mean maybe but, uh, we were earnin our own cash, figured we got to decide what to spend it on.”

“Hmmmm” the first guy sips his coffee, “sounds like a typical excuse for someone who doesn’t want to admit a mistake.”

“C’mon, that ain’t fair-”

“Ugh, stop saying ain’t! I can’t take someone who talks like that to meet my family.” Before the target of his disdain can respond, he snaps his fingers, “hey, buddy, can I get a refill or what?”

“The station for black coffee refills is right there, sir.” Barclay indicates the very obvious corner of dispensers, his voice the kind of calm that Indrid knows means he’s memorizing this guys face to warn other staff about.

They earn a brief reprieve while The Asshole leaves the table. When he returns, he’s shaking his head.

“God, have you looked at the photos they’ve got up? Who the fuck wants to look at bones?”

Indrid quickly glances at his friend to be sure he’s permitted to start a fight. Barclay nods.

“Quite a lot of people.” Indrid spins on his stool. “I’ve sold a number of them just from the display here. So perhaps you could keep your rude, unclultured, close-minded, obnoxious mouth shut.”

The man balks, looks to his companion for help. He offers none, mouth trying to form words and only coming out with halves of ones (except for the “fucks” which are plentiful).

“Oh my fucking god, you agree with him! That’s it, I’m out.” The Asshole pushes back from the table and storms out. The remaining man leaps up, panicked.

“Fuck.”

“It’s okay man, shitty first dates happen to all of us.” Barclay offers from beside the bakery case.

“I mean yeah, they do, but that wasn’t one of ‘em. That was my boyfriend of three fuckin years.” He dashes out of the shop, sparing a final glare at Indrid as he does.

Indrid trades a sheepish look with his friend, “Oops.”

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

“I’m glad you finally get to meet Duck!” Aubrey grins over her shoulder as she and Indrid wind down the hall at the office Kepler magazine.

Founded by childhood friends, Kepler worked a combination of print and video content that saw its subscribers and revenue climb while other publications struggled to stay afloat. Aubrey was head of the video team, though she contributed content to the magazine in the form of interviews about environmental activists of color and sustainable gift guides.

Kepler has three sections: travel, science, and environmental writing. Indrid now has the honor of being one of their primary photographers. He started two weeks ago and is thoroughly enjoying his work and the company of the other staff. The only person he’s yet to meet is Duck Newton, one of the founders and main reporters, as he was off on an assignment.

Aubrey knocks, gets a friendly “come in” and ushers Indrid into the office.

Looking at him from behind the desk is The Asshole’s Boyfriend, whose face goes from open and friendly to confused, then to perturbed.

“You okay?”

“I, uh, fuck, n-ye.” Duck sighs, “remember how I told you Alex and I split after a shitty date in a coffee shop?” He points at Indrid, “this was the fella who, uh, expedited the process.”

“Ohhhh.” Aubrey frowns, then shrugs with a smile, “whelp, he’s our new photographer. We’ll see you around.” She hurries them outside once more, shutting the doors. As they head back the way they came, she whispers, “his ex was a huge fucking dick, so if word gets out everyone is gonna think you’re a fucking hero.”

“He didn’t seem to see it that way.”

“It was only a few weeks ago, so it’s still pretty fresh. He’ll heal from it okay, Duck’s a tough cookie. And I’m sure you guys’ll get along eventually.”

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

“Juno, please, you gotta come with me.”

“I would bud, except it’s April and I’s fifth wedding anniversary that weekend. And no, we already have plans, so we can’t just take over this assignment as part of the celebration.”

“Fuck” Duck leans back in his chair.

“...You really asked everyone?”

“Ye-no, fuck-”

“Duck.”

“I ain’t asked Indrid yet.”

“There it is.” Juno smirks, “you gotta ask; besides, we were gonna have him do illustrations for the feature, but photos would be even better. And we both know it ain’t his fault y’all broke up.”

Duck nods, promises to ask Indrid after lunch. He finds the photographer flipping through his files from his shoot for next issues cover. His silver hair is pulled back, red glasses sitting on the desk beside him so he can gauge color correctly.

Duck kind of wants to pull the silver locks just to see what happens. It’s not his fault Indrid looks like his Sophomore roommate who he had a raging crush on, only with more tattoos and a much more captivating face. Pity he helped fuck up Duck’s last chance at a stable relationship.

“Hey, Indrid, you got a minute?”

The photographer cocks his head.

“I, uh, so we got a feature on this whole chunk of places touting themselves as ‘sustainable romantic getaways. I booked a bunch of places, but a lot of ‘em will turn me away if I turn up solo. And the person I was supposed to go with ain’t an option any more. Neither is anyone else. You get my drift?”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “you realize this is a terrible idea, yes?”

“Hey, we been workin together just fine. Ain’t we? Wait, fuck, I ain’t been treatin you bad even when I’m tryin to be professional, am I?”

“No, you’ve been perfectly polite. But there’s a world of difference between being cordial in an office and going on what’s functionally a vacation together.”

Duck crosses his arms, “I ain’t about to lose eight hundred bucks in deposits.”

Indrid blinks, then chuckles, “Fair. What day do we leave?”

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

The temperature rises and the air dries as they speed south on Five. Indrid fiddles with games on his phone as cover for the list of “will this be a disaster or not” he’s mentally constructing. So far the signs are positive; Duck isn’t very chatty, but neither is Indrid. They have similar tastes in music, which makes much more sense when Duck explains he was a burn-out in high school. He also isn’t agitated by Indrid stimming, which makes it easier for the photographer to relax and enjoy the drive.

But they haven’t spoken about the elephant in the car, and Indrid resolves not to be the first to do so. No point in poking the sore spot if he doesn’t have to.

They stop at a Sinclair for gas. Duck reaches into his glovebox for something as Indrid climbs out, comes away with a photo instead. It’s one of those ones from a photobooth, faded but unmistakably him and his ex. His face falls for a second and Indrid scurries into the Dairy Queen attached to the convenience store.

As he waits in line, he turns one fact over in his mind like a picture he’s trying to make sense of; it would be easier to let their awkward first meeting go if he did not genuinely like the other man. He’s charming, in a quiet way, and very friendly. He’s built like the guys Indrid always got useless crushes on in college, usually third tier frat boys or--if he was lucky--a bear a few years older than him who liked his men on the odd side.

He doesn’t like seeing Duck sad. The sadness isn’t something he can fix. The stalemate between these two facts annoy the living hell out of him.

He’s next in line, glances up to confirm what he wants, and gets an idea. Last week, he overheard Duck talking with Aubrey about roadtrip snacks of their youth.

“One chocolate dipped cone, on me.” He holds the treat out to the other man.

“Oh. Uh, thanks. These are my favorite from when I was a kid.” Duck’s smile returns.

“I remembered. Or, ah, that is, I remembered you saying that.”

The smile changes, “you didn’t need to.”

“I wanted to. Shall we?”

“Yep. Uh, you gonna be able to drive and eat that at the same time?”

“Do not doubt my ability to consume ice cream under difficult circumstances, Duck Newton.”

They make it to their first stop unscathed. It’s what Duck refers to as, “eco-bespoke,” a fancy spa and hotel built in a former school, the kind that was made in an era of beautiful instead of grim educational architecture.

“Goats!” Indrid claps his hands, delighted, at the two animals stabled near the main building. One of it’s supposed sustainable elements is the small farm that helps feed the on-site restaurant. Duck smirks and Indrid suddenly feels the gulf in their upbringings, “Ah, I suppose they’re not exciting to someone who grew up in a rural town.”

“Nah, but they’re damn cute.” Duck checks the tag on their room keys, “okay, we’re in the green building, room 2B.”

Indrid snaps some photos as they cross the grounds, more to remind himself of things he wants to come back to later than anything else. He’s busy studying a strange mark on the wall by their door when Duck says, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“Why--oh” he stares at the single bed, “in retrospect, we should have seen this coming.”

“Yeah.” Duck drops his bag near the closet, slides the door to look for spare linens. Indrid summons his courage, finds it lacking, and so bolsters it with nonchalance.

“It’s a king, we could easily share.”

“You’d, uh, you’d be okay with that?”

“It is only narrow definitions of masculinity that mean something like sharing a bed is inherently sexual.”

He’s not entirely sure that made sense, but Duck nods, “You want the right side or left?”

“Right, please.”

“Great. And, uh, Indrid? Thanks for rollin with all this. I, uh, I know it’s fuckin weird but this is a huge feature for the magazine and we woulda been fucked if we had to pull it.”

Indrid gingerly sits on his side of the bed, “You’re welcome. And I don;t know about you, but” he smiles, catches Duck watching him intently in the mirror, “I’m enjoying myself so far.”

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

“Why has an activity that renders one incapable of using their thighs been deemed ‘romantic?” Indrid mumbles, face-down on the bed to offer his burning legs relief.

“Fuck if I know.” Duck groans as he sits next to him, “Kinda fun, but if I was doin this to get you in bed, I’d be fucked.”

“I am in bed” Indrid teases.

“And if I tried to put the moves of you you’d toss me outta it. Assumin I could even move myself that close.” Duck nudges him, then clears his throat, “uh, I mean, not like we’d be doin that-”

“Nono, point taken.” Indrid rolls over. The horseback ride was one of the “couples exclusives;” a trot out to a beautiful oasis for a gourmet picnic. Indrid got some excellent shots, including one of Duck with honeycomb dripping down his chin, which he will not be offering up to editors but may keep for himself. For it’s beautiful composition, of course.

Mercifully, their next stop is the pool. Indrid settles himself in the hot tub while Duck types some notes on his phone. Then his friend doffs his bathrobe and Indrid may as well be in a dream. In the steaming, echoing paradise of multi-colored tile and ecstatic shouts, Duck stands like one of the angelic fountains at its heart has come to life.

“You okay there, ‘Drid?”

“Yes.” He hopes his lack of glasses means Duck will mistake his blatant staring for trying to get his vision in focus.

“Then scoot your cu--uh, your butt over so I can sit down.”

Indrid gladly moves aside, finds he’s so comfortable with Duck pressed against him that he begins nodding off in the warm lull of the water. When the other man nudges him, saying it’s time to go, he finds a strong arm draped over his shoulder and Duck’s smile the most relaxed it’s been all trip.

Their last task at this location is to locate the speakeasy somewhere on the premises and order the “lovers delight” (only available to couples). To do so, they follow clues purple light bulbs, doors that lead to tiny, art-filled rooms, secret staircases, and a false supply closet to a dark wooded, dimly lit, incredibly pleasant bar looking out over the property. The drink turns out to be a massive goblet (more a bowl that someone stuck on a stem) of ginger syrup, prickly pear juice, and silver tequila.

It also turns out to be incredibly strong. So much so that when they get back to the room, Indrid loses his balance getting his shoes off, which makes Duck laugh, which results in both of them flopping onto the bed.

“S’fun. You’re, you’re real good at the clues. Should, should go to an escape room when we get home.”

“Wasn’t, hic, that hard. They, they want, hic, want you to find it.”

“Take the compliment, goofus” Duck pushes his shoulder.

“You’re, hic, the goofus.”

“Nuh uh.” Duck sticks his tongue out. Indrid does the same, then licks his cheek just to hear him laugh.

Duck rolls onto his back, giggles dying down to a contemplative sigh, “He woulda hated this.”

“Your ex?” Indrid crawls to stay close to him.

“Yeah. Everythin I like, or, or thought was fun, he thought it was a waste of time or just plain worthless. He, he wasn’t like that at the start. Dunno what changed. Probably me. Probably got borin. Got worse.”

Indrid is not so drunk that he believes he can fix this. But he’s just drunk enough to stroke Duck’s cheek and murmur, “No. Nono, hic, you’re th’best.”

He doesn’t remember falling asleep after that, but he must have, because his phone is beeping at them to get up and face the day. They do so with to-go coffees in one hand and their bags in the other, neither speaking of the night before until Indrid has turned the car into deeper desert.

“Sorry for gettin on a thing about Alex last night.”

“It was a three year relationship; goodness knows you’re allowed to have feelings about it.”

“Even relief?”

Indrid glances at him, “Of course.”

His friend leans back in his seat, sipping from his travel mug, “That’s half the reason I been in such a funk. I feel like I oughta be sad, then I feel guilty for the fact I’m relieved instead. But if I really was that unhappy in it, why did I hang around so long? Maybe that was the best I deserved, y’know?”

“I know the feeling, yes, but I can’t say I agree with your statement. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are and adores it, not someone who loved what you once were and became bitter when you grew.”

Duck looks at the console between them, at Indrid’s chipped black nails and the hand he hopes isn’t shaking. He squeezes it a moment longer than necessary, “Thanks, ‘Drid. It’s nice to hear that from someone who’s still gettin to know me. Juno and them, they’re my friends, I know they’re in my corner but, uh, sometimes I worry that anyone new is gonna find me dull or somethin like that.”

“I’m sure some people would, just as some take one look at me and decide I’m a weirdo who they don’t want to deal with. But I can say with certainty that I don’t find you that way.”

Duck grins all the way to their destination. It’s a quirky trailer park full of amenities and built mostly from salvaged materials, doing it’s best to run off the grid. It also gives each trailer a theme, and Indrid flaps his hands when he sees they’ve been booked in the “The Cramps” themed one.

“Hell yeah.” Duck mirrors his excitement as they open the door. Their haven from the desert sun is full of kitschy horror artifacts and a much smaller bed than the previous spot. There’s no debate this time; Indrid settles on the right, Duck on the left, and they settle in for a nap before venturing out to work.

They take in the bar, the arcade, the mini-golf course, and the “couples supply room” (“damn, didn’t know they made eggnog scented massage oil” “ooh, I like how that smells”), but Duck turns out to be most excited to rent a stargazing kit and guide Indrid out into the dark desert. They’re on their backs, shoulder to shoulder and munching chocolate covered fruit, when he discovers the source of his glee.

“There!” Duck points to a crackling streak of silver.

“A meteor” Indrid wiggles happily as a second one speeds through his view.

“It’s the Perseids, and this is a damn good place to watch ‘em. Look, there’s another one.” He’s breathless each time and Indrid’s heart threatens to beat hard enough to crack the earth at the sound.

“Did you ever wish on stars when you were little?”

“Yep. Never asked for much worth notin, though I’m pretty sure I wished once to just wake up and be a boy. Or, uh, guess for everyone to see me as one. What about you?”

“I wished...I wished for someone to do things like this with, some who’d kiss me and tell me that they didn’t need to wish because what they wanted was right here.. I love the world, I want to see so much of it, that’s half the reason I chose my profession.. But when I was young I thought I’d be with someone when I did. I thought it was easy to find that kind of love. To be worthy of it.”

“Hey now” Duck rolls onto his side. He’s backlit by the moon, meteors zipping behind him as if they, just like Indrid, are pulled to him, “what happened to all the stuff you said in the car about deservin someone who adores you?”

“It’s easy to apply such things to you, harder to believe them about myself.”

“How come?”

“Because you are everything a sensible person could want in a man and I am not.”

“That’s where you’re wrong” He sets a hand next to Indrid’s shoulder, “Can think of at least one sensible fella who wants to get to know you a whole hell of a lot.”

“He’ll get to know me plenty, we’re co-workers.”

“There are different kinds of gettin to know someone.” Duck dips down, brushes their noses together, “for instance, the last few days I’ve gotten to know you’re a damn good travel companion and that Ned was smart to hire you. But I’ve also gotten to know there’s some things about you I really wanna know.”

“Such as?” Indrid’s fingers find Duck’s sides.

“Such as whether you wanna go on a date with me when we get back. No assignment, just the two of us gettin some time together.”

“I want nothing more.” He leans up to kiss him, feels him shudder happily when their lips meet. Indrid wonders how long it’s been since someone kissed Duck like they meant it, and resolves to make up any deficits with an enthusiasm that would put horny eighteen year olds to shame.

Indrid nips Ducks ear, “you know, were it not for the threat of mosquitos and scorpions, I’d suggest we make good use of the non-food items in that basket.”

Ducks grin lights Indrid up like a comet, “Then howsabout we go test just how conducive our trailer is to romance?”

Indrid kisses him adoringly, “Lead on, sweetheart; I’ll follow you anywhere.”

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Born To Die Vol.1 Tsukinami Carla [Track 2]

Original title: かつての繁栄

Source: Diabolik Lovers Born To Die Vol.1 Tsukinami Carla [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Toshiyuki Morikawa

Translator’s note: As soon as they got ‘locked’ in the basement, I wondered why Carla couldn’t simply blast through the door or use his Founders powers to get them out. Seems like our MC was not quite as clever though, because she totally got herself fooled. These kind of interactions between the two of them are rather cute though. I feel like I could like Carla much more if his voice didn’t make me think of an old man. T _ T

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5

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Track 2: Former Prosperity

*Creaaak*

“We’ve arrived. You could say this is a villa formerly used by us Founders. Located deep inside the heart of the forest, it was used to enjoy a temporary moment of peace and enjoyment, away from all other clans.”

You note the house is very clean despite not being inhabited in forever. 

“Hmph. So you’ve noticed. I have a group of Familiars keep this place neat so it could be used whenever I want, at any given time.”

*Rustle* 

“With little to no Founders left, this place had lost its use. Originally I would have not minded simply letting it rot away, but I simply could not bring myself to do so. More importantly...”

Carla looks over at you.

“You want to hold a party, no? There is a kitchen and a dining room in the back. Furthermore, everything from your list has already been supplied by the Familiars. If there are any additional items you need, feel free to tell me.”

You head towards the kitchen.

“Heh. Look at her smiling so brightly. Even though I am the one being celebrated, what an odd woman she is. ...’The precious day of my birth’, huh?”

*TIMESKIP*

*Rustle rustle*

“...What do you think? Do you have everything you wanted?”

You frown, realizing you forgot one thing. 

“Hm? What seems to be the matter?”

You answer.

“A tablecloth? Hmph. I see. You want to drape it across the table to create a festive mood, no? If I recall correctly, we should have one of those in the storage room. I shall show you the way.”

You seem hesitant.

“No need to be humble. I am offering to escort you. So stop complaining and follow me.”

The two of you head towards the storage room.

*Creaaaak*

“This is the storage room.”

You look around, asking him where the tablecloth is.

“No. I only know it should be somewhere around here. Let us look for it together.”

You shake your head, refusing to make him work on his birthday. 

“...Hmph. There is no need to pamper me simply because it is my birthday. Besides, it would be somewhat dull to simply sit still and wait, no?”

You agree.

“Well then, I shall search over here. You can do the same there.”

You nod, starting to look around.

*Rustle rustle*

“To think someone would get so serious over a single tablecloth...”

*Rustle*

“Hm? This is...?”

You walk over to Carla.

“No, I found a book I have read in the past. I read it over and over until I had memorized the contents by heart.”

You ask if this place holds a lot of memories for him. 

“Yes. By looking around, I might come across other nostalgic goods as well. However, right now I have another task at hand. I shall put this back.”

*Thud*

“Exactly. I want to prioritize my time spend with you, rather than taking a trip down memory lane.”

You smile.

“Heh. Why are your cheeks flushed? Even though I have been by your side for quite some time, you continue to show me those pure, innocent reactions. However, that expression stirs up a man’s sadistic side.”

You get even more flustered.

“Why are you getting flustered? I have to lean in this close, or otherwise I simply cannot get a proper look at the face of the woman I cherish, no?”

Your eyes widen in surprise at his words.

“Exactly. You are the one who taught me this feeling of loving someone, aren’t you? So I will not allow you to get embarrassed and push me away me now.”

You avert your gaze.

“Oi. Don’t turn away. Look at me.”

You shake your head.

“Hm...You are quite stubborn. Can you not lock eyes with me?”

*Rustle*

“If that is not the case, then simply turn your head my way.”

You flee, rummaging through the cupboards once more.

*Thud*

*Rustle rustle*

“Hmph. You suddenly start looking for the tablecloth again? In other words, you are trying to cover up your own embarrassment? (1) You are so naive. (2) ...I suppose you give me no other choice. I shall look for it as well.”

You suddenly seem very excited.

“...Hm? What is the fuss about?”

You hold up the tablecloth. 

“Ah. You found it. In that case, our job here is done. Let us return to the dining room.”

You nod, following suit.

*Thud thud*

“What’s the matter? Hurry up and open the door.”

*Thud thud*

“Do not tell me...The door will not open?”

You nod.

“I see. It will not open, will it? While it has been maintained, this building itself is of age already. It would not be strange for construction errors to pop up.”

You try once more.

*Thud thud*

“Fufufu...Why are you getting so desperate? There is no need to panic, is there?”

*Thud thud*

“For one, you have to push that door, not pull. You must be rather confused at the moment.”

Your cheeks flush bright red at your stupid mistake.

*Thud thud thud*

“...Hmph. I suppose neither pulling nor pushing does the trick. What a shame.”

You grow frustrated, wondering how Carla can stay so calm.

“Calm might be an overstatement, but I am well aware of what would happen if I were to lose my cool. Furthermore, I informed Shin and the Familiars of our whereabouts before coming here. If we fail to come back, they will eventually come looking for us.”

You ask him what he will do. 

“If the door refuses to open, we simply have to accept and fate and recognize we’ve been locked in. Staying put until Shin and the others come looking for us is the wise decision.”

You pout, realizing this ruins the birthday plans. 

“You...You are worried about my birthday, even in our current circumstances? Even if we have to spend the rest of the day here, I would not mind. Therefore, you have no reason to feel gloom either.”

You insist on celebrating. 

“Hm...You wanted to give me a fun time regardless? Heh. Now that you mention it, you had quite the line-up of ingredients prepared. Were those to please me as well?”

You nod. 

“...You wanted to cook, huh? In that case, I do not see the problem. I am sure we can find delicious food down here as well.”

Carla walks over to you. 

“A first-rate product, that is.”

You look at him in surprise.

“Why do you seem so dumbfounded? I am obviously talking about you.”

You seem shocked.

*Rustle rustle*

“No point in struggling. I no longer care about escaping this place. If you want to please me, then keep still and offer me your blood. ...I shall suck it from your collarbone. It might hurt a little when my fangs hit the bone, but I am very much looking forward to seeing your face twist in pain as well.”

Carla bites you.

*Sluuuurp*

*Gulp*

“...Haah...So you will fight back, even while I am sucking your blood? Hmph. You never know when to give up. However...”

*Smooch*

You flinch.

“Fufu...You just flinched, did you not? Does it feel good when I place a gentle kiss against the bite wound? Heh. You have become rather obedient to the pleasure, it seems. Even though back when we had first met, you rejected my fangs so strongly. The more I suck your blood, the more you are swept away by the pleasure. When exactly did you become a captive to my fangs?”

You bite your lower lip.

“Seeing as you start mumbling, I assume you are still having a hard time admitting it. However, what will you do from here on out? I am not that broad-minded of a man to continue giving a stubborn woman what she wants.”

*Rustle*

“Well then, expose your true self, and give in. If that is what you wish, I shall give you my fangs.”

You insist that looking for a way to get out of the room is more important right now.

“Hooh...For a second, I was convinced you had given in to the pleasure, but you still prioritize our escape? However, are you sure that is what you want? This body which has only been partially satisfied still feels heated, and seems to be quivering.��

You deny his words. 

“Hmph. It is shaking in my eyes. In that case, let me pose you the question one more time. Will you seek out the pleasure? Or attempt to get out of this room? Forcing my fangs upon you is no fun, I want to hear it from your mouth.”

You beg for his fangs. 

“...Hm. So you have finally become honest? In that case, move your clothes aside and offer me your body. I shall pierce you with my fangs, just as you wish.”

*Rustle rustle*

“This nape will do, right?”

Carla bites you once more.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“Haah...Your body has heated up. Does it feel that good?”

You nod.

“I see. In that case, continue to entrust your body to me like that. Haah...”

*Sluuuuurp*

“Hah...Just as I thought, your blood is of the fintest quality. No matter how many times I suck it, or how many times I cleanse you, I simply cannot help craving for more.”

He continues sucking your blood.

*Sluuuurp*

*Gulp*

“...Hm? ...Haah...Do not call my name in such a painful tone. I will no longer be able to control myself. However, I suppose I should leave it at this for now. It would be quite troublesome if you were to fall unconscious because I sucked too much blood.”

*Rustle*

“What seems to be the matter? You look rather down to me.”

You explain.

“...Hmph. Those are some rather admirable words. Even though I am the one who urged you to give in to the pleasure, you are still worried about my birthday? After being shown such a noble attitude, I simply cannot remain silent forever either.”

 Carla walks towards the door.

“Hm.”

*Thud*

“...Hm!”

He forces open the door.

“Hmph. What’s the matter? You are making a rather silly expression.”

You feel cheated. 

“I did not deceive you. I simply chose to remain silent about being able to open the door. You looked so funny getting all flustered and panicked, I simply could not help myself.”

You puff out your cheeks, complaining.

“No need to get so upset. You were rather adorable while frantic as well, you know? Furthermore, I will not interfere with you any more. You need to prepare for the party, no? ...Let us go.”

The two of you leave the storage room.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) 照れ隠し or ‘tere-kakushi’ is when somebody either tells a lie or does something to try and cover up for their own embarrassment/something they feel ashamed of. The word itself is a combination of two verbs: 照れる or ‘tereru’ which means ‘to get flustered/to blush’ and 隠す or ‘kakusu’ which means ‘to hide/conceal’. 

(2) 可愛い or ‘kawaii’ usually means ‘cute’, but it can also be used to refer to someone’s naive, innocent personality. Since Carla mutters it in a somewhat mocking tone, this seemed like a more fitting translation here. 

[thetravelerwrites]

Eikichi and Sterling (Lemon)

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Oni/Male Tiefling Additional Tags: Exophilia, Polyamory Negotiations, Polyamorous Character, Oni, Tiefling Content Warnings: Sex, Double Penetration, Oral Sex, Power Bottom, Light Bondage, Light BDSM Words: 4990

 A commission for @faeryamber​! A woman and her oni boyfriend search online for a third to add to their relationship. They end up meeting a perfect gentleman who completes them.Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

“What would we even say on our profile?” You asked your boyfriend, Eikichi. The two of you had been dating for almost five years and had an open relationship, but recently the two of you had been talking about adding a third.

Eikichi was an oni who had immigrated from Japan several years ago. He had been the kami, or god, of an old town that no longer existed and presided over construction for his parishioners for several hundred years. Laborers and carpenters from that town used to come to his temple to pray to him for success in their ventures. When the town died out, he was left homeless and joined the human society when other yokai from his region decided to do so. He was no longer a god, but being the CEO of his own construction company was just as good, he said, and he was just as happy now as he had been when he lived in the temple.

Despite a significant age difference, the two of you had fallen in love over tea and books, and the fact that he was gorgeous. Six foot five, two hundred and fifteen pounds of pure muscle, ivory colored horns rising up out of his white hair, red skin like ripe cherries, and yellow eyes. He was stunning. It still amazed you that he chose you to fall in love with. How would you get that lucky twice?

“Just be honest,” He said, his Japanese accent fairly heavy. “That we’re poly and looking for a male to complete our family. Make it clear we’re not looking for a unicorn.”

“A real unicorn or a figurative unicorn?” You asked jokingly.

“A figurative one,” He said with a smirk. “A real one might actually be cute.”

“Real unicorns welcome,” You typed. “Hehehe.”

“Are you being purposefully vague again?” He asked, putting tea next to you on the desk.

“It’s my favorite thing,” You replied.

“I thought I was your favorite thing,” He shot back, kissing the top of your head.

“Close second,” You said, laughing. “Don’t you have work soon?”

“I’m the owner, I can go in whenever I feel like it,” He retorted. “Are you working today?”

Eikichi owned a construction business, and you sold handmade clothing online by commission only.

“Not today,” You said. “I’ve been putting the housework off and I really should get to that mountain of laundry.”

“We could just throw it all away and buy new clothes,” He suggested.

“Don’t tempt me,” You replied, shooing him. “Go on. What are you thinking for dinner?”

“Spaghetti?”

“Again?”

“What? I like the way you make it.” He gave you a kiss on the forehead, cheek, and lips before picking up his jacket. “I’ll be home a bit early. It’s expected to rain.”

“Okay. Be safe.” You hugged him and saw him out of the door.

You sighed and looked around the house, demoralized by the sight of the housework you’d been neglecting. Both you and Eikichi were a little slovenly, you had to admit, but it was an acceptable amount of clutter. Usually.

Before you could bend down to pick up a pair of pants Eikichi had shucked off the day before as soon as he got in the door, you heard a ping on your phone. Looking down, you’d been matched with someone.

“Already?” You asked. You unlocked it and pressed the notification from OkCryptid. You saw who had matched with you and your jaw dropped.

“No way.”

It was, indeed, a unicorn, although he listed his race as tiefling. Where Eikichi was devastatingly handsome, this man was breathtakingly beautiful in a completely different way. He was thin, slightly taller than you but much shorter than Eikichi, and as pale as milkglass. His hair was long, white, and shimmery like spidersilk. A single horn spiraled out of the crown of his forehead. Pointed ears stuck out from under his hair, and his eyes were indigo in color. In his picture, he was dressed in an elegant, pale lavender suit that complemented his skin perfectly.

“Whoa,” You said under your breath. You took a screenshot and sent it to Eikichi. >You’re not going to believe this.

>You’re kidding! He replied quickly. >I was just joking!

>Me too! Should I message him?

>Hell yeah, he’d be perfect, look at him!

>He’s prettier than I am!

>Not possible. But he is gorgeous. Message him and see if he wants to meet up.

>I will.

You switched back to the app and started typing out a short message.

Hi. My boyfriend and I are in an open relationship, and you matched with us. Would you be okay meeting up sometime? We’d both love to get to know you.

You bit your lip as you hit send. You hoped he wasn’t the type who thought he was better than you or Eikichi because he was pretty or wore suits and such. You put your phone back in your pocket and returned to your housework, putting the lovely tiefling out of your mind.

A few hours later, while you were folding some very large boxer briefs, you got another ping. There was a message from the tiefling. With your heart in your throat, you opened it.

Hello! I’m Sterling. I’m very much open to the idea of an open relationship. I’m free this weekend on Saturday, if that works for you and your partner. Please let me know as soon as you can.

Your heart jumped and you felt giddy. You immediately texted Eikichi.

>He wants to meet us Saturday! You don’t have plans then, do you?

>I do now. Tell him we’ll be happy to meet him. You want to do that Japanese cafe?

>You just like that place because that kitsune owner and his girlfriend are pretty and you like looking at them.

>So?

>Maybe we shouldn’t ogle other people while were wooing someone.

>Perhaps you’re right. Sigh. Okay, then the Italian place you like.

>Ooh, I’m always happy with that.

>I know you are. LOL

You smiled. He did know you pretty well. You switched back to the app and messaged Sterling again.

That Saturday, you and Eikichi waited at your favorite restaurant, sipping some wine, when Sterling arrived. He was dressed in a suit again, though a dark burgundy one this time. His bright, gossamer hair was pulled back into a tight plait. Gods, he was pretty.

“Hello,” He said, his voice lilting. “I assume the two of you are my dates tonight?”

“We are,” You said, standing up. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

He took your outstretched hand and folded it into both of his, smiling sweetly. “Very nice.”

“Eikichi,” Your boyfriend said, holding out his hand in turn.

“Well, aren’t you strapping?” Sterling said with a grin, shaking Eikichi’s hand firmly. “Let’s sit, shall we. Oh, thank you for ordering me a glass as well.”

“Of course,” Eikichi said.

“So, tell me about yourselves,” Sterling said, taking a sip of his wine and raising his eyebrows appreciatively. “What am I getting myself into?”

The two of you told him about your jobs and life together and he listened attentively. “What do you do, Sterling?” You asked. “I would hazard a guess that it’s something to do with fashion, given how you dress.”

“Very astute of you,” He replied, pleased. “I’m a tailor, in fact. I own a menswear shop downtown.”

“Really?” You said with interest. “I’ve only ever made dresses, never suits.”

“Well, we will have to compare techniques, then, won’t we,” He said with a charming smile.

“Fashion is something that’s well over my head,” Eikichi said. “But you work with your hands. That’s something we all have in common, even if my profession gets me a little dirty more often.”

“You look good dirty,” You said in a flirty tone. “And even better all soaped up.”

He snorted. “You’re supposed to be flirting with our date, not me.”

“No reason she can’t do both,” Sterling said reasonably, sipping his wine. “So, would I be dating one or both of you? I’ll mean, I am bisexual and you’re both very attractive, but I want to know where my boundaries are.”

Eikichi nodded. “Both. We’re both bisexual and have outside girlfriends. Those relationships are casual and we both prefer it that way.” He gestured at you. “We’ve both met each other’s girlfriends. The four of us sat down and discussed all of us dating each other, but we ultimately decided against it.”

You leaned forward. “Have you ever been in an open relationship?”

“No, not as such,” He said. “I’ve only dated casually before. I’m not opposed to the idea of commitment, it just… hasn’t happened for me yet.”

“It could,” You replied. “Maybe you just haven’t met the person for you. Or persons.”

“Are you insinuating you two are said persons?” He asked with a smirk.

You shrugged and grinned. “We could be. Why don’t we find out?”

He matched your smile.

“We make decisions together,” Eikichi said. “We’ve got a contract, you might say: she’s what you would call a power bottom. She likes taking the submissive role, but she also likes to tell me what to do, and even though I’m what could be considered a dom, I like taking orders. It’s a little unorthodox, but it works for us.”

“How would I fit in?” Sterling asked.

“That depends. What position do you play, so to speak?”

“Whatever is best at the time. I guess I’m a switch? Though, I have to admit I haven’t been very adventurous.”

“We’ll teach you, if you want to learn,” You said, leaning closer so that your fingertips touched his arm.

“It’s not just about sex, though,” Eikichi said. “We want someone to love us as much as we’ll love them. If you decide you’d like to be casual, that’s fine. We can keep you casually and just continue looking for our third. Honesty and openness is the most important thing in any relationship. If you decided to be in the relationship with us, that would apply to you, too.

“And your impression of me so far, if I might ask?”

“You seem genuine and intelligent, and you’re very good looking. I don’t get any bad vibes of you. So far.”

“So what would be your recommendation?”

“Well, the date just started,” Eikichi said. “Let’s get to dessert before we make further plans.”

“And what does the boss say?” Sterling asked, turning to you.

You side-smiled at him. “Dessert first. But let’s just say you passed the application process.”

The three of you spent another two hours talking over dinner and dessert. Sterling was funny and smart and surprisingly nerdy, once he opened up. He loved manga, anime and collecting Funko Pop Vinyl figures. He had quite the collection. He had spend several years in Japan learning about Japanese fashion after college and ended up having a lot of tastes in common with Eikichi, reminiscing about food and drink brands they couldn’t get in the states.

With you, he talked about fashion and sewing and wanting to branch out. And all three of you had similar tastes in music, books, and movies.

After dinner, the three of you went to a small, comfortable pub that you and Eikichi were familiar with and continued your conversation well into the night. At one point, Sterling even loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first two buttons of his shirt, which you thought was a great sign. He seemed comfortable and open. And you got to peak at his collarbone.

Eventually, the bar closed, and the three of you reluctantly decided to call it a night with plans to see each other again soon.

“I really liked him,” You said in the car on the way home.

“I could tell,” Eikichi said with a smile. “You were practically in his lap by the time the night was over.”

“You like him, too,” You said shrewdly in response.

“I do like him,” Eikichi admitted. “There was definitely a connection between all of us. I think he might be the one we’re looking for.”

“Me, too,” You said, bouncing in your seat slightly. “I can’t wait to see him again.”

Eikichi smiled at your enthusiasm, but you knew he was just as excited.

A few days later, the three of you met up for drinks and continued talking. You felt that flushed, rosy feeling when you first start dating someone and it’s going really well, and you thought Sterling was feeling it, too. He was soon holding hands with both you and Eikichi in turn, being flirty and physically affectionate.

You were trying to go slow and not jump into things head first, but there was a real, tangible attachment between the three of you that was hard to ignore. You could see it on both men’s faces when they looked at each other, and when they looked at you.

That night before you parted ways with Sterling, he kissed you full on the lips. It wasn’t just a peck, either; it was long and open-mouthed, with just a hint of tongue. You were surprised but delighted, and reciprocated happily. When he parted with you, he pulled Eikichi down and kissed him, too.

“Why don’t we meet at our house next time?” You asked him. “I think you’ll have a good time with us.”

He grinned. “I have no doubt I will. Sounds wonderful.”

You bit your lip and smiled. “Until then.”

The night of your home date, you were jittery. You wanted to look cute, hot, sexy, and intimidating, but couldn’t decide what to wear that reflected all of those things. You stood inside your closet wearing only your nicest pair of panties.

“You could just answer the door naked,” Eikichi suggested.

“All of your solutions involve nudity,” You snorted.

“That’s why they’re clearly the best solutions,” He replied.

“You are absolutely no help to me,” You said, switching between two different dresses in front of the mirror.

“That black sheer one with the lace, then,” He replied as he watched. “It’s a nice preview.”

“Oh, but I only wear that one for you. Won’t you be jealous?” You asked playfully.

“Nah,” He said, coming up behind you and putting his hands on your stomach. “If we’re going to share, then there’s no point in keeping things from each other. He should enjoy it just as much as I do. Besides, I’m going to wear that black shirt you like so much.”

“Oooh, the one with the subtle feather pattern on it?” You asked as he helped you into the dress. “I do like that one. Leave the top two buttons undone in that way that I can see your collarbone.”

“You and your obsession with collarbones,” He said, snickering.

“Hey, we all got our own things we like. Don’t kinkshame me in my own house,” You joked. “I don’t poke fun at you for your pregnancy fetish.”

“You’re the one who decided no kids,” He said grumpily, checking his watch. “He’ll be here soon. I’ll finish up dinner .+while you get dressed.” He kissed your neck. “You look delicious no matter what you wear.”

He could always make you blush, even after five years. He walked back out to the kitchen and finished up the okonomiyaki and tsukune balls. Eikichi wasn’t exactly a gourmet cook, but he knew how to make plenty of his favorite dishes from home. He thought Sterling might like some Japanese food to remind him of his time there.

Sterling arrived later wearing a black suit with a blood red tie and pocket square. His hair was pulled back in an elegant french braid with red ribbons threaded throughout. He stood at the door with roses, wine, and a bright smile.

“Well, I guess we were all of one mind this evening,” He said as he looked at the both of you both wearing black. He gave you the roses and the wine, which actually turned out to be plum sake.

“Umeshu!” Eikichi said. “I haven’t had this in ages! Come in, come in, sit! I’ll pour us all a cup.”

“How was your day, Sterling?” You asked him, offering to take his coat.

He shrugged it off and gave it to you with a gentle smile. “It was pleasant. I made a few good sales and I have an order for a bespoke three piece double breasted suit with a shawl lapel. Someone is going somewhere fancy, which is my favorite thing to work on. So much gossip during fittings.”

You put the roses in a vase as Eikichi poured the sake. Sterling sat at the table, which was beautifully set, and you placed the roses in the center. Eikichi handed both of you a traditional choko sake dish, one of the few relics he’d brought with him from his old temple.

“Ah, this takes me back,” Sterling said, sipping delicately.

“Me too,” Eikichi sighed happily.

“I’ve never been to Japan,” You said. “Eikichi keeps talking about us taking a vacation there, but he’s such a workaholic that it never ends up happening.”

“We will go! I promised, didn’t I?” Eikichi protested.

You grinned at him playfully. “I’ll believe it when it happens, mister.”

“I would love to take some time off and go back,” Sterling said wistfully. “Some of the best years of my life were spent on that island.”

“Maybe you may be more successful in talking Eikichi into putting in some vacation time,” You said, winking.

“I will endeavor to try,” Sterling said, putting a hand out and resting it on the back of Eikichi’s. Eikichi flipped his and grasped Sterling’s hand briefly, smirking at him, before standing up to finish dinner.

“Tsukune?” Sterling said in a pleasantly surprised tone.

“Yep,” Eikichi said. “And okonomiyaki. I thought you’d appreciate it.”

“The two of you are spoiling me,” Sterling said, a hand to his heart a little dramatically, which made you snicker.

Dinner went amazingly. Sterling praised Eikichi’s cooking and he adored your dress, even more so when you told him you’d made it yourself. He actually got down on the ground so he could look at the stitching on the hem.

You smiled to yourself, looking at the top of his head from your chair. Your eyes flicked to Eikichi, and his smile was mischievous. He knew exactly what you were thinking.

You slid off your shoe and began tracing your toe up from his knee, where he knelt on the ground, and up his leg to his waist, managing to pull his shirt out of his pants and tickling the skin of his stomach.

He looked up at you, smirking, but didn’t stop you or say anything. Eikichi silently slid out of his chair and disappeared into the bedroom for a moment, returning with a length of soft cotton rope before sitting back down at the table and watching with a fond smile. Sterling took your foot and kissed the top of it, working his way up your legs with his hands and lips.

You tilted your pelvis forward as his hands went up your skirt and pulled at your underwear.

“These are pretty,” He said as he slid them off.

“Only the best,” You replied with a grin.

“The safe word is ‘Enokida’,” Eikichi said idly from his seat where he was watching, lightly tapping the rope against his thigh. “Don’t stop until she says it, even if she screams and begs. Her rules, not mine.”

“I understand,” Sterling said, though he looked at you with an inquiring eyebrow. You nodded acquiescence and bit your lip.

He hiked your dress up to your waist, exposing you to the air. He kissed the inside of your thighs, working upward until he was breathing on your most sensitive place, stroking it lightly with one long finger. You hissed and sucked in a breath, your body stretching and flexing. His finger teased around your pearl without actually touching it, and he pulled up to kiss your mouth, biting and sucking your bottom lip. Ooh, he was good at this.

The first stroke of his tongue on your slit sent electricity though your body, and you moaned. He vocalized in return, sending vibrations through your skin. Eikichi set the rope on the table next to you and began caressing your shoulders and pulling lightly at your hair, tilting your head back to meet his kiss as Sterling continued his ministrations, looking up from his position on the floor to watch you and Eikichi make out and fondle each other.

Eikichi pulled your dress off and lifted your arms, starting to wrap your hands with the rope.

“Not tying her to the chair?” Sterling asked.

“Don’t stop!” You hissed, looking down. Sterling snickered and went back to work.

“She can get out if I tie her to the chair,” Eikichi said. “I don’t know how, but she can get out every time. What good is tying her up if she can just free herself anytime she wants? Again, her words, not mine.”

Sterling snorted, but continued. You were reaching your peak quickly, having been turned on all through dinner. Eikichi finished tying your hands and left a leash connected to it that he could control. He pulled your hands over your shoulder and held them against his chest while he used his other hand to massage your breasts.

Your thighs began to shake as you moaned loudly, unable to move. You crashed into that wall of pleasure at the speed of a freight train, but he kept going. You tried to push him away with your feet, but he held your legs back against your chest. Eikichi put your tied hands around his neck and grabbed your ankles, pulling them up. Sterling continued, pulling another orgasm from you almost immediately. You were a sweating, swearing mess at this point, but it was so good. You fought against the restraints and their firm grips, but the two of them held you in place rather effectively.

You were still shivering from the aftershocks of the last orgasm when another one sent you contracting off the chair. Eikichi, with his sheer brute strength, was the only thing that kept you from falling sideways.

“Enokida! Enokida!” You screeched, and Sterling finally pulled away and you were left boneless and gasping in the chair. Eikichi lifted you up bridal-style and carried you to the bedroom with Sterling following behind.

“Do you need a break?” Eikichi asked, petting your sweat soaked hair away from your face.

You nodded. “You two have fun while I catch my breath.”

Eikichi grinned at you and slid off the bed, catching Sterling by the waistband of his trousers and pulling him roughly toward him, kissing him passionately. Sterling responded favorably, kissing Eikichi back just as soundly and unbuttoning Eikichi’s shirt.

You spent your break slowing down your heart rate and watching the two of them undress each other and make out. It was pretty hot, you had to admit. Sterling pushed Eikichi on the bed and got on top of him, grinding against him as they kissed. Sterling found his way down Eikichi’s body, just like he had done with you, and started sucking Eikichi’s cock right next to you, where you could watch. Sterling kept switching eye contact with you and Eikichi in turn and moaning. Eikichi grunted and his legs flexed in pleasure.

Your hands were still bound, but you touched yourself as you watched them, and Sterling reached underneath him to fondle himself while he continued sucking. At some point, Eikichi tapped out and put Sterling on the bed, sucking him in turn.

“I’m ready again,” You said. “Eikichi, do the thing I like.”

“You got it,” He said, getting up on his knees. His massive dick swayed upright between his thighs. He took the leash part of the rope and pulled your legs back up, tying your knees up around your ribcage, giving you enough room to breathe but not enough to buck. He also put your arms around his neck, so that you couldn’t move them.

He picked you up and presented you, tied and splayed, to Sterling. “You go first.”

Sterling smiled and gripped your hips, lining his organ up with your entrance. Where Eikichi was all girth, Sterling’s was long and curved upward. He pushed himself into your dripping slit and you groaned. He didn’t waste time in being slow and gentle; he rammed straight into you and you screamed. He railed you fast and hard, every so often either kissing you or Eikichi over your shoulder.

As Sterling’s body slapped sharply against yours with every thrust, the pressure and pleasure continued to build until you burst, and your brain blanked, with you going limp in Eikichi’s grasp.

“Wait, hold up,” He said to Sterling, and Sterling stopped immediately, though he didn’t pull out. “You okay, babe?”

“Mmm,” You said. “Water.”

Sterling did withdraw then, grabbing a water bottle that was on the bed. Because you were tied, you couldn’t take the bottle so he opened it and helped you sip it.

“Better?” He asked.

“Yeah,” You said. “Thanks.”

“You want to keep going or take another break?”

“I don’t think I need a break, but let’s take it a bit more slow. I loved what you were doing, but I think I’m overstimulated.”

“I got you,” He said, slipping himself back inside you more slowly and gently. Eikichi held you so that your head lay on his chest and he put his arms around you, holding you in place but also embracing you, kissing your neck and shoulders.

After some time, you said, “I want both.”

“You got it, babe,” Eikichi said. “There’s some lube in the dresser, Sterling, could you grab it?”

“Of course,” Sterling said. He stopped and pulled out, reaching over to opened the drawer and retrieve it. Reaching underneath you and taking Eikichi’s cock in his hand, Sterling slicked it down with the lube, which made Eikichi hiss, and then lead it to your pucker. Eikichi pushed himself inside you slowly, very slowly, until he was all the way inside and stopped. Sterling took his place back in front of you and took himself in his hand, stroking twice, and pushing back into you.

Ever so slowly, the two of them began to thrust in rhythm. Sterling caressed your face, then took a fistful of your hair, gripping it tightly as he went in and out, his other hand had your breast in it’s grasp. Eikichi grunted and bit the lobe of your ear, whispering dirty things and moaning, blowing his breath across your skin.

The three of you moved in unison, crying out and gasping, sweating, swearing, screaming. Soon enough, they were both ramming you as hard as they could, and you were reveling in the full feeling, the incredible pressure, the feeling of being sandwiched between them.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You shouted, cumming for possible the twentieth time. Sterling pulled out with a strangled groan and came all over your stomach and legs. Eikichi took another few seconds, but finished inside you, roaring and bucking into you from behind. Then the three of you collapsed in a pile.

“Eikichi, the ropes,” You said breathlessly.

He reached up and snapped them effortlessly, allowing them to slip off. Then you managed to move so that you were lying in between the two of them, arms and legs everywhere. Then the three of you just lay there and breathed for about ten minutes.

Sterling was the first to rouse. “Well,” He said, still a little out of breath. “That was definitely a good time, as promised.”

You laughed and pulled him into a kiss. “I’m glad we could live up to our promises.”

You thought Eikichi was almost asleep, except he said groggily, “Are you staying the night, Sterling?”

“I’d planned to,” Sterling said. “I closed the shop for the next two days. I wanted to be sure I had enough recovery time.”

Eikichi barked a laugh. “You might need another few days. This one is insatiable.” He jerked a thumb at you while his eyes were still closed.

“Sounds good to me,” Sterling said, laying his head on your breast and sighing contentedly. “I haven’t had a break since I opened the store. A mini-vacation is exactly what I need.”

“Hey, maybe you might actually get us to Japan, like Eikichi promised.”

“I said we would,” Eikichi protested sleepily, throwing an arm around you and pulling up the covers.

Sterling snuggled in, kissing the middle of your chest before settling. “I’ll see what I can do.”

One year later, you stepped out of the airport in Kyoto, bundled up against the cold. Eikichi stood next to you, carrying most of the luggage, and Sterling took out his phone to call a cab to take you to the apartment the three of you had rented for your vacation. On your left hand, you wore two interlocking engagement rings, one sterling silver, and the second rose gold.

You breathed in the crisp air. “I can’t believe we’re really here.”

“Believe it,” Eikichi said. “The spring wedding will be amazing.”

“And we came with plenty of time to get things in order,” Sterling said, hanging up. “Cab is on it’s way.”

“Thank you,” You said sultrily, pulling Sterling toward you for a kiss. “I also can’t believe the two of you actually said yes when I asked you if you wanted to get married.”

“I’d have married you years ago, babe,” Eikichi said, bending down to get his kiss. “I just didn’t know it was something you wanted.”

“Well, now you know,” You said, winking up at him. “And I can’t think of a better place.” You took a couple of the bags as the cab pulled up. “Now let’s get going. Our future is waiting.”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[craftypeaceturtle]

Distanced, part 1

Summary: A group chat fic! How shall these useless students cope with daily life.

Note: This is my first attempt at anything even remotely like this! I have no idea how this will turn out so feedback is greatly appreciated! Intrulogical. 

Next part here!!

.

MESSAGES: To Remus Prince (Presentation)

Tuesday, 16:15

Hello. This is Logan Sanders from Prof. Smith’s seminar. Do you have any suggestions for how we should go about completing the upcoming assessment?

Remus Prince: who dis

I literally just stated it. Logan Sanders.

I wear the tie.

Remus Prince: OHHH

Remus Prince: Well 1stly

Remus Prince: What’s the best planet in the solar system?

Pardon?

Remus Prince: i LitERaLlY JuSt stAtED iT

That has nothing to do with anything, we just need to get through this project.

Remus Prince: if u want to work then u have to answer

Jupiter. 

Remus Prince: cool.

Remus Prince: You’ll do.

Remus Prince: My name is Remus.

I know. We did actually swap phone numbers. We in fact discussed which topic we would be doing for over fifteen minutes in the seminar. So we have indeed met. If you continue to be obnoxious then this will be a easier project. 

.

MESSAGES: To Remus Sanders (Presentation)

Tuesday, 16:22

Why did you ask that question?

 Remus Prince: I asked my brother that question and he answered earth

Remus Prince: I’ve had trust issues ever since

Roman’s favourite planet is Earth? 

 Remus Prince: HAH

Remus Prince: ye he’s an idiot

Remus Prince: I’ve gotta test everyone now.

Remus Prince: You passed btw

Remus Prince: WAIT!

Remus Prince: Do u know Ro?

Yes, he is my friend and roommate. 

Remus Prince: What was ur name again????????

You can literally scroll up and reread it. I refuse. You got into university for a reason and so you can manage my name.

Remus Prince: jk

Okay then. Do you want to discuss how we should go about creating this powerpoint?

Remus Prince: what’s there to ‘discuss’?

We can separately conduct our research however it is regrettably better to meet up in person to practise not only giving the presentation but also the construction of the presentation itself.

Remus Prince: man you just love sending essays huh

I have written out longer messages. I don’t understand the point of sending a sentence at a time and risk getting interrupted. Plus at least my texting doesn’t seem all like an assault of constant notifications. 

Remus Prince: fair

Shall we say that we should aim to get our presentation research finished by two weeks (15th). That leaves us another two weeks to construct the powerpoint, gather more research if necessary, then practise presenting. 

Remus Prince: k

GROUPCHAT: Goths, Emos, and Remus

Tuesday, 16:26

Octopussy: can I vent for a sec

Octopussy: So! I’m just sitting here. Y’know. Vibing. 

Octopussy: Then out of nowhere the nerd from my class starts messaging me about the group project that’s due a month away

Octopussy: like wtf

Octopussy: nice to know the nerd thing isn’t just appearance

Vigilant: help

Octopussy: he made a big deal about meeting up as well to do this!

Octopussy: No one in the class even cares!

Octopussy: No one is even remotely

Octopussy: Not even close

Octopussy: To thinking about that project right now!

Octopussy: We’ve got ages!

Vigilant: oh sweet jesus

Octopussy: Like! We’ve got a month!

Octopussy: AN ENTIRE MONTH

Octopussy: Like he also wants to meet up as well to practise

Octopus: Like ew.

Top-Hat-Gay: Are you done?

Octopussy: ye

Octopussy: he’s a dick

Vigilant: oh thank god

Top-Hat-Gay: Ha, as if you believe in god.

Vigilant: If it stops Re from not spamming us then I’ll believe whatever. 

Octopussy: rude

Vigilant: bitch

Top-Hat-Gay: On an actually important note, which one of you last used my nail bag?

Octopussy: me!

Octopussy: you need more green 

Top-Hat-Gay: No I fucking don’t!

Top-Hat-Gay: There was an entirely new bottle in there!

Octopussy: I said what I said.

Top-Hat-Gay: I hate you. 

Octopussy: Thank bby

Octopussy: ALSO!

Octopussy: I found out the nerd also lives with Ro.

Top-Hat-Gay: So?

Vigilant: hE’S FORBIDDEN

Top-Hat-Gay: Wait so the nerd is Logan?

Octopussy: He is!

Octopussy: not that it seems to be having any effect on Ro. he’s as dense as a brick.

Top-Hat-Gay: I saw him today going into Remy’s. 

Vigilant: Why are we even talking about him

Vigilant: Like who gives a shit.

Octopussy: dunno

Octopussy: just thought it was weird

Top-Hat-Gay: Maybe you should switch partners. Especially if he wants to meet up at some point.

Octopussy: nah

Octopussy: not worth it

Top-Hat-Gay: A teacher wouldn’t care. They only want to see good grades. They won’t mind moving stuff around for you.

Octopussy: He seems harmless. 

Vigilant: you literally called him a dick after one conversation.

Octopussy: he is a dick

Octopussy: he seems stuffy but just a nerd through and through. He’s not going to be a prick or anything.

Vigilant: This isn’t really about him. He already got you talking about you know who in your first ever conversation. Maybe you shouldn’t hang around him.

Octopussy: I just thought it was interesting

Octopussy: It doesn’t mean jack shit

Octopussy: Not everything I talk about has some grand meaning.

Octopussy: I just thought it was weird that this nerd I share my classes with also lives with my bro. 

Top-Hat-Gay: And that’s perfectly fine Re.

Octopussy: soz V

Octopussy: didn’t mean to blow up in your face

Octopussy: just annoying to feel psycho-analysed 

Vigilant: soz

Octopussy: okay! 

Octopussy: that’s proof enough!

Octopussy: we can behave to each other so ice cream plz!!!!!!!!!!!

Top-Hat-Gay: JESUS CHRIST I SAID THAT AS A JOKE LAST YEAR

Octopussy: I will eat V’s posters unless you give us reward good boy icecream

Vigilant: chocolate pls

Top-Hat-Gay: jesus do you lot know how long it takes for me to put on my cape to go shopping

Vigilant: yes

Vigilant: we are precisely aware of exactly how long it takes

Vigilant: that’s why we don’t go shopping with you

GROUPCHAT: THE FAM ILY

Tuesday, 16:38

Pat-on-the-back: Heya guys, are we all in for dinner tonight?

Logan.S: I am.

YourHopesandDreams: I will be in at 7. If you could be so compassionate to push your meal back until then, I would be truly indebted to you.

Pat-on-the-back:  Fine by me!

Logan.S: I am agreeable.

Pat-on-the-back: Also Lo! Are you finished with your work?

Logan.S: I have finished my to-do list so I am available if I’m needed. 

Pat-on-the-back: No, you’re all good! I just wanted to check. It sounded like you were doing work for like four hours straight.

Logan.S: It took three hours thank you very much. 

Logan.S: So what are we doing for dinner?

Pat-on-the-back: I was thinking lasagne! 

Pat-on-the-back: also! Don’t think I’ll notice that change in topic!

Pat-on-the-back: I thought we all agreed on two hour stretches of work with a 15 min break at least. I mean... it’s even written on our calendar! There’s no way you forgot, did you Mister! 

Logan.S: It’s fine Pat.

Logan.S: Just let it go

Logan.S: I needed to get it done

Logan.S: I don’t need to be babied. 

Logan.S: I’m taking a break now. I’m okay.

Pat-on-the-back: I know, I’m sorry. I just want to make sure. As long as you feel okay then everything’s alright! How was your work anyway?

Logan.S: Fairly ordinary actually. I had to go through some of my notes and rewrite a couple of pages then I had to organise a group project due the 2nd of March. 

Pat-on-the-back: Sounds productive!

Logan.S: Thank you.

YourHopesandDreams: Ew. Group project. Who’s your partner?

Logan.S: We are in entirely different courses, why do you think you would know them?

YourHopesandDreams: Everyone knows the drama students know everyone. 

Logan.S: I’m working with Remus.

YourHopesandDreams: You should ask to swap partners. 

Logan.S: I won’t do so unless I have a genuine reason. I’ve not had any interactions with him previously and while he did seem half-hearted and obnoxious in his messages, he seems harmless. If he messes everything around then I will but I won’t make a fuss unless I have reason to.

Pat-on-the-back: That’s fair but please make sure to tell us if he pulls anything.

YourHopesandDreams: Your loss. 

.

MESSAGES: To Nerd

Wednesday, 3:02

hey u awake

Nerd: What on earth are you doing up at 3am? 

Oh

Soz

Wrong number.

MESSAGES: To Nerd

Wednesday, 3:12

Nerd: What is your favourite planet?

wha

Nerd: I figured it would be fair to ask your test to you. For all I know you could be as uncultured as your brother.

can we not talk about him

I dunno really

I wanna say pluto because they deserve it

but I kinda like saturn best.

Nerd: Any reason why?

Just kinda interesting

Big, lots a moons, ring. 

It’s just a cool planet. 

Nerd: Fair enough.

Do you have a reason to like jupiter?

Nerd: If I’m being honest, my science teacher absolutely adored Jupiter. I don’t know why but that memory of him ranting about how cool it was just really stuck with me. I was only about 8 years old. But I found myself agreeing with him. Back then my fascination was a lot more childish. I thought it was fascinating that since Jupiter was a gas planet it hadn’t been blown away yet. I grew up from that view but the interest never left.

ew that was almost cute.

Nerd: I concur that was very unprofessional.

WAIT

WAIT

HOLD ON

Why hasn’t Jupiter blown away!?!?!?!?!??

Nerd: Excuse me?

8YR OLD YOU IS A GENUIS 

Nerd: There’s no atmosphere in space!

But there’s pressure and junk isn’t there? 

Nerd: The pressure is pulling the mass into the centre which keeps the planet whole.

Do you think we could step on Jupiter?

Nerd: I don’t know.

I thought you knew space!

Nerd: I do biology! To get into a biology degree, I did a bunch of biology based subjects! Why would I know anything about space?

I dunno.

I guess if you look like a nerd people just presume.

Nerd: I’ve personally found it’s the confidence. If you act confident enough then everyone presumes you know exactly what you’re doing and you’re in control, no matter how out of place you look. 

I’ll drink to that!

Wait, in what situation would you have learnt this!?!

Nerd: I have a bad habit of accidentally going to the wrong class and just going along with it rather than anything else. Although I should say I did fantastic in that architectural history class. But this habit has caused some awkward situations. I have also impersonated a store manager to explain why me and my friend were there when really he ran into the warehouse searching for a kitten. 

HAH

That’s brilliant

Using your nerdy powers to overthrow society.

Does this mean you’re a liar?

Nerd: I call it ‘managing life’. 

HAH

Sounds about right.

Why are you awake at this time?

Nerd: I could ask you that.

[the-haven-of-fiction]

Not A Christmas Movie

Genre/Rating: Fluff and Sweetness of the holiday variety, T

Summary:  Tom and Astrid find themselves in a unique situation on Christmas Eve. 

Author’s Notes:  My first sappy romantic Christmas one shot, y’all!  Move over, Hallmark!  I tried to cover some of the best cheesy themes, I hope you enjoy it.  Thank you to Pillow Talk and Lolo for proofing.  

The sound of the wind and snow raced through the trees and whipped against the walls of the cabin, the remote mountainous location devoid of any welcoming lights from neighbors.  The two travelers dropped their luggage upon crossing the threshold and rushed to push the heavy door shut behind them.   

“When we get through this, neither you nor my sisters are ever allowed to make fun of my emergency preparedness again!  We’d be in major trouble without it!” Astrid declared, brushing snow off her jacket and holding up the lantern from the referenced emergency preparedness with her other hand as Tom attempted to lock the door.

“I think I can safely and assuredly,” he paused to run his tongue over his perpetually chapped lips in concentration, “give you my word as an Englishman that I shall never,” a grunt of effort, “allow either myself or your sisters to utter a syllable of criticism on that score.”  

She couldn’t help but giggle at his struggle with the lock.  

“Remember when you had the brilliant idea to build a set for one of our backyard holiday productions?  Was that when you played Scrooge?  Your word as an Englishman may be good as gold, but your complete lack of skill with anything slightly mechanical is something I wouldn’t swear by.”

Even in the dim light of the lantern, the slight twitch of a smile was visible on his face, the vision of the pathetic attempt so vivid in his memory.  

“No one is going to believe this,” she sighed, shivering and looking around for a light switch.

“Truth is stranger than fiction,” Tom quipped. “The best intentions of a Christmas surprise, a series of unfortunate events, a comedy of errors…”

“I blame my soon to be ex-mechanic, the weatherman, Anya and Arlyss and their crazy idea about trying to organize our families into coming out here to the wilderness to have some kind of storybook Christmas,” she huffed, fumbling along the wall, but finding the switch and flipping it to On in relief.

They both groaned when nothing happened.  No electricity, no heat.

“They must have disconnected the electricity during renovations, fantastic.”  He followed close behind her as they made their way around the cabin.  Although the snowstorm was in full force and there weren’t any outside lights on the driveway, they could see evidence of construction as they had pulled up a few minutes earlier.  

“Well, at least there’s a fireplace and I think there is actually a pile of wood next to it,” Astrid pointed as she spoke.  “How about that.  Must have been stocked by the same person who left the door unlocked. Remind me never to hire this company, whoever they are.”

“I could go outside and check for the…uhm…the…” Tom stuttered and gestured, making what she assumed was meant to be a square shape of some kind.

“The breaker box?” she asked dryly.  

“Exactly, yes,” he answered in a tone of false bravado, clearing his throat. “I was merely waiting to see if you knew the name.”

“Santa doesn’t bring presents to little boys who lie, ya know.”  She set the lantern on the mantle next to a small glass dish of matches.  “Especially little boys who grew up in a centuries-old estate and have servants who take care of locking the doors and fixing the electrical problems.”

“They are not servants, they are staff, Miss Sassy, and I doubt Father Christmas knows we are here, no one does,” he replied.  “Add the one forgotten mobile and the other with no service to the list of things that won’t be believed.”

“Well, anyways, Professor,” she went on in an exaggerated manner, “I may have a First Aid kit in my emergency supplies, but I am not equipped to perform any surgery on wounds you would most certainly incur from trying to play Electrician.”

He knew she was correct and they both smiled, cheeks rosy with cold.

“I suppose it was fortuitous that I ended up teaching Classics rather than embarking upon a career in carpentry.”

Astrid got a fire going and they were able to scope out their surroundings more thoroughly. A last-minute change of plans had allowed the visiting Tom and originally scheduled-to-work Astrid to join their families in the mountains for Christmas, but a quick succession of unforeseen events had brought them here, stranded close to midnight in a semi-livable cabin during a snowstorm on Christmas Eve.

The owners must have been undergoing some kind of renovations.  The cabin obviously had been inhabited previously, but half the interior wasn’t complete, including the kitchen.

“The toilet flushes!” she shouted from the bathroom.  “And there’s running water in the sink!”

“Unfortunately there is no sofa or chairs of any sort and only one bedroom,” he reported when she came back into the main room, “No fireplace, but it does have a bed with linens.”

“Well, my kit has extra batteries so we should be okay with the lantern in there,” she assured him, completely missing his point about the issue of a single bed.

He noticed that her shivering wasn’t decreasing as much as it should, looking her up and down in concern.  She was wearing an ankle-length corduroy skirt in a shade that matched her eyes, with a long-sleeved but thin sweater.  

“I think we should go through our luggage and put on a couple of more layers.  That centuries-old estate was a bit drafty, so I am accustomed to an indoor chill,” he informed her with a tinge of that irritating blend of both humility and privilege.

She rolled her eyes, but went over to her suitcase and started sifting through her clothes.  

“You and the twins have always been bossy. It’s a wonder how I have managed to get through life as an adult without the three of you hovering over me like you did when I was a kid.”

He pulled on another shirt and grinned at her.

“I still remember the day you were born.  I was visiting Dad and Roberta that year for Christmas,” referring to the alternating schedule their families had of who went to which country for the holidays. “And your sisters and I were old enough to be excited rather than jealous of a new child coming.”

Astrid turned away from him, hoping he wouldn’t see her reaction.  Why did it please her so much to hear him speak of her birth with such affection?  It must be this ridiculous situation.  And the holiday.  And her birthday.  And this sparkling blue-eyed man whose place in her life she had never been quite able to define.  Not a blood relation, but as close as a family member, certainly more than a friend.  But more than a friend, in that sense?  College and adulthood had made the unanswered question less important, as the shared summers and holidays of their childhood had grown fewer and fewer.  She didn’t let herself ponder why he hadn’t married and had a dozen children to help him keep up that manor. Any woman would be elated at the prospect of sharing her life with him; she knew he had a string of casual relationships, just as she had, but their age difference had made her sure years ago that he would be a distant memory by this time.  

“Born on Christmas Day to parents named Joseph and Mary, merely the beginning of my life’s trajectory of ‘You won’t believe this!’ events, continuing to this bizarre night that has practically every plot point needed for a cheesy holiday movie except that we aren’t secretly pining for each other.”  She zipped up the windbreaker over the thicker sweater before reaching for her parka, not seeing the brief flicker in his eyes.

“Did you know that Arliss wanted to call you Snowflake and Anya’s choice was Mistletoe?” Tom picked up her scarf and hat that he had placed on the hearth so they would be toasty and walked back to her.

“I hear that story every year, along with all the suggestions from everyone to aunts and uncles to the postman.  Thank God my parents went with something on theme, but not silly.”  She pulled on her boots after a second pair of socks and looked up at him.

His expression changed and he drew in a short breath.

“Do you like your name?”

The inquiry was brimming with something that sounded like hope to her.

“Oh, yes, I’ve always loved it.  In fact, I love it as much as I’ve disliked having a birthday on Christmas because it is beautiful and unique and it made me feel beautiful and unique.”

A wave of pure delight lit up his face and something clicked in her mind.  Her parents’ version of where her name came from was always that someone had mentioned it to them and they couldn’t remember who it had been.

“It was you, wasn’t it,” Astrid said.  And it wasn’t a question. “It was your suggestion.”

He worried at his lower lip, a tic she’d come to know years ago that was a sure indication of him being both pleased and embarrassed.

“Yes,” the soft affirmation punctuated by the crackles and pops from the fire. “And your description is precisely how I thought of it then, thanks to having just started Latin in school, and,” a heartbeat of silence, “it is how I think of you now.”

He was standing directly in front of her and paused to survey her face for a few seconds before tapping lightly under her chin.  

Without even thinking about it, it seemed, she looked up at the ceiling so he could wrap the heated scarf around her neck.  The warmth felt wonderful, although the feeling caused by this stunning revelation about her name and the look on his face was already warming her up in a way she tried to herself wasn’t happening.

He tucked her hair behind her ears and pulled the hat down while she argued with herself that he was simply being affectionate in the manner of a friend.

“Well,” she said, a little too loudly, stepping back from him, “That down comforter is calling to me, I guess we should be getting to bed.”

Good heavens, the bed, she thought.  As in one bed.  

As in here, as in they were stuck with a snowstorm swirling around them.  

In a cabin that was being renovated.  With no power or heat.  

On Christmas Eve.  

This couldn’t be real, it was not a Christmas movie.

“I suppose we should,” still in that soft voice.  

A distraction.  She needed a distraction.

“Oh!  I just remembered!  I have my favorite Christmas movie downloaded on my phone, we can watch it before we go to sleep.”

Less than two hours later, David Niven was giving his sermon and Loretta Young was gazing up at him while Cary Grant walked away in the snow.  Tom was propped up a bit against the headboard and had insisted on holding the phone so she could stay under the blankets.  Somehow she had ended up almost pasted to his side as the story progressed and his arm was around her.  About halfway through, they’d had a little tussle about whether or not he should leave the warm cocoon of the bed and get them another candy cane from her Snack Pack.  He argued that they had already brushed their teeth, but a sincere plea from her with an affectionate “Be naughty with me, Professor!” addition was something he simply couldn’t resist.  

She sighed and closed her eyes, contented and drowsy and finally no longer cold, too tired and confused to attempt to figure out what was happening, how years of ignoring what was just below the surface had nearly bubbled over.  It was impossible.  He wasn’t interested.  He was just being Tom.  Typical Tom.  Caring, attentive, making you feel like you were the only person in the room.  She wouldn’t think about this anymore right now.  Maybe tomorrow.  Or not.  

Tom closed the app on her phone and noticed the time.

“Hey there, it’s 12:01.”

“Mmhhmm,” she murmured, feeling herself about to drift off.  He was so familiar, so comforting, so exactly like Christmas itself should be.  She wanted to enjoy this moment before she went back to being the little kid and he the older…the older what?

“Happy Birthday,” he said and dipped his head to kiss her forehead, his breath sweet from the earlier candy cane.

She turned upwards toward him without opening her eyes to give him a peck on the cheek, almost without knowing what she was doing in her sleepy state, but she miscalculated and missed his cheek, her mouth landing on his.

He didn’t jerk back in shock.  Or horror.

It’s now or never, she thought, suddenly wide awake and ready to throw caution out the window that was probably frozen shut by now.

Ten seconds later, ten minutes later, she wasn’t sure which, he pulled back breathlessly and she opened her eyes. 

“What are you doing?” he asked in bewilderment, in surprise, but not in accusation.

“I’m kissing you, do you mind?” she responded, quickly pulling off her mittens and his beanie so she could sink her fingers into his curls.

“I, uhm…”

“Have no fear for your virtue, Thomas,” she teased in a low voice, tugging on a fistful of those ginger locks and causing a sharp gasp from him that thrilled her and gave her courage. “We are wrapped up like a couple of stuffed sausages in this icebox and there is a foot of clothing between us.”  

His gaze narrowed and focused on her lips.

Another kiss, sweet and shy, but sure.

“I thought we weren’t secretly pining for each other,” he quoted her words back to her.

“I lied,” Astrid admitted while placing a string of kisses down his nose and nipping the tip. 

The gasp changed to a growl, his grip on her upper arms tightening.

“Santa doesn’t bring presents to little girls who lie,” using her words against her, again.

She kissed him, again.  Longer, lingering.

They were side by side now, the blankets becoming tangled.

“Did you lie?” she whispered, not knowing what to do next if he denied it, but also feeling like she couldn’t let another minute pass without settling the matter.

He propped himself up on an elbow and raised an eyebrow at her.

“I don’t recall either confirming or denying your assertion at the time,” wanting to tease her in return.

“But,” he rushed to continue upon seeing her immediately crestfallen, “I will make it absolutely clear now,” each word followed by a brush of his lips across her jaw and down her neck, “that you,” lifting his head to smile at her, “are the one I desire.”

Tears of happiness welled up and slipped down her cheeks.  

“Happy Christmas, my starshine,” he whispered against her lips.

[dawn-of-tomorrow]

PGR COMMANDANT Q & A

FINALLY TOOK THE TIME TO ANSWER THIS-- ssdsjdlksd

link to OG post here! (made by @punishing-gray-raven-ocs)

1) How do you feel about being a Commandant? Are you proud of your job? Terrified of failing at your job?

Higetsu: Honestly speaking, it's nothing new compared to what I went through in the past-- just that now I've become an authority figure that has to lead people. ...Truthfully, however, a little unnerving, but it has to be done, and I knew what I was getting into when I decided to become one.

Yoko: Mhhmm... it's tough, I'm not gonna lie. Sometimes I have to make decisions I personally don't like but the situation demands it, and it ends up not sitting right with me. ...That's why an occasional loophole exploitation here and there is fine in spare amounts, ain't it~?

(Higetsu: Who the hell taught you to think like that-- you know what, never mind, I'd be shooting myself in the foot if I finished that sentence. // Yoko: *giggles, does a victory pose*)

2) Why did you become Commandant in the first place? How did you become a Commandant?

Yoko: Brother and I decided to become a Commandant to honor mom's memory. It sounds kinda childish to have that as a reason to take up a career as dangerous as this, but, at least to me (though I'm sure brother shares the same sentiment as I do), mom was everything to us, so we wanted to experience what she did, see the sights she did-- all the good and bad.

Higetsu: "That person", huh... Speaking of which, the relatively-fresh flowers at that grave--... No, it's nothing. In any case, "that person" took us in as her children after finding us in the remnants of our old home, bringing us back to Babylonia, to her home and husband. Well, things went as you can see, no?

3) How do your Constructs feel about your leadership skills? Are they comfortable with you? Do they fear you?

Higetsu: There's no issues at the moment with either Strike Hawk or Gray Raven. After all, if there was any problem, either Chrome or Lucia would've told me. ...Leading isn't my strongest skill, though, and sometimes they worry me. Actually, scratch that, not sometimes, FREQUENTLY. Haaaahh.

Yoko: Hrmm~... honestly, I'm not entirely too confident with my leadership skills, and the others often say that I'm a bit too lenient when it comes to dealing with Gray Raven, but... they're still people, you know? I don't want them to get hurt too much, but they don't seem to value their own lives as much as I'd wish they do...

4) Do you think the war against the Corrupted will ever come to an end?

Yoko: It will certainly come, I know it. As long as everyone continues to fight for a future, a future where we can all live in peace, then I believe that this war will come to an end. Be it in our lifetime, or the next generation.

Higetsu: ... Honestly speaking, I'm not as optimistic as Yoko. This war has been going on for a century at this point, and we are still barely scratching the surface of our objectives; that and it would seem like a bunch of rats managed to infiltrate the higher-ups. ...In any case, while I do think that the odds are stacked against us, it doesn't mean I don't believe that, one day, this entire hell will come to an end.

5) Are you in love with anyone? What drew you to them?

Higetsu: ....No comment.

Yoko: Brother~~!! It's no fun if you don't answer a harmless question like this~~!! Or do you want me to talk about your ex-penpal--

Higetsu: I evoke my right to remain silent, and DON'T YOU DARE- LIKE I KEEP SAYING, WE WERE ONLY FRIENDS-- Don't make me not let you come to the Oasis with me next time.

Yoko: Hrrmph...! Fiiine~. In any case, I'll answer here right now. I--

Higetsu: It's Lee. We all know it, you're way too obvious in your affections for him.

Yoko: Ehehe... E-Ehem--! I-In any case~~ the things I like about Lee, gosh, there's so many I might not be able to tell everything (and it would take too long)--!

Higetsu: Then just list off the top 3 things you like about him (to shorten the exposition).

Yoko: Hmmm, top 3 things about Lee, huh.... well, for starters, I like his caring nature; it's not that obvious at first glance, but he really does care about the people around him, so much so that while he may gripe and verbally snark at others, in the end he chooses to do good by them and will protect them. Secondly, I like his focus and determination; he's a man of his word, and he doesn't make promises lightly, seeing them as something that must be upheld in sincerity-- ehe, his face whenever he's working on his tools and machinery is something I can't ever not look at. Thirdly, I like him; he's equally easily flustered and annoyed by a lot of things, but at the same time, he's also very serious and earnest in what he sets out to do; he's not honest with himself, but his actions speak for itself. ....That got long, didn't it?

Higetsu: Very much so.

Yoko: Ehe~.

6) If you had to choose between saving your squad, or saving yourself to make sure you would fight on in their honor, which would you choose?

Yoko: Both. I would save myself and my squad. I won't accept any other option; rather, if there's no other option, then I WILL force that third option in!

Higetsu: Logically speaking, both of my squads would tell me to survive and live another day, and I would agree with that. ...However, such a thing doesn't sit well with me. Even if there's only the tiniest sliver of a possibility that I could save them, no matter how reckless or dangerous it may be, then I'd save the Strike Hawks and Gray Ravens.

7) You have to make a difficult choice that will affect your squad and another squad. Which squad do you prioritize? Why?

Higetsu: We can't always save people from out of our reach, so it's best to protect the ones closest to you.

Yoko: But if there's a chance that we could help them, then--

Higetsu: ...I know. ...In the end, it's your choice to do what you think is right, Yoko.

Yoko: ...Yeah. I get it. Brother wants to protect me, Gray Raven, and Strike Hawk, even at the cost of other's lives.... that's why I wish to save the others too.

8) Who is your least favorite Construct/person to be around? Why?

Higetsu: Nanami.

Yoko: EEEHHH!??! Why?! Nanami's fun to be around!!

Higetsu: Shall I list off the reasons?

Yoko: ....Ok you have a point, but she's not at all that bad--!!

Higetsu: True, but the amount of headaches she causes us is just... haaaah.

Yoko: Ah, you're starting to sound like Watanabe. Is Brother becoming an uncle now? (laughs)

Higetsu: ...I'm leaving.

Yoko: Wait I was just kidding-- brother-- BROTHER--!!! (We're not even finished with answering the questions yet~!!)

Higetsu: Just kidding.

Yoko: Really--!! (pout)

Higetsu: (amused chuckle) What about you, Yoko?

Yoko: Eh? Me? Hmm.... I suppose... it would have to be Gabriel. It's a first that I'm saying this but, I really do hate him.

Higetsu: ... Don't worry, I can say the same thing.

9) What other Commandants would you like to meet? (a clear invitation for you to involve any of my Commandants lol, because I'm always up for interacting with others)

Yoko: I'm always happy to meet other Commandants~. It's always nice to meet your colleagues whenever, especially during off-work hours.

Higetsu: Except Vanessa though. I'd rather not deal with her again.

Yoko: Ehehe... Brother, you're making a scary face right now~. In any case, I've always wanted to meet Qiu, Ash, Xiao, Kyrie, and Noir!

Higetsu: Aaaah, them. They're interesting people, not gonna lie.

10) What will you do once the war is over? Will you miss leading your squad, or will you be happy that the war is over?

Higetsu: What will I do after the war is over? ...I haven't actually put any thought into what I would do after this is all over. What about you, Yoko?

Yoko: Hmmm... honestly, I wanna join the Association of Arts, specifically the Archaeological team! Because, you know, by then, there would be no more worry of the Punishing attacking, and we could finally be able to recover in peace the remnants of the Golden Age. I want to see it all-- what other stuff left have we not unearthed from the sands of time, what potential wonders are there left from the past. ...And of course, I wanna settle down with Lee someday too, ehe.

Higetsu: I see. You've really thought about this through, huh.

Yoko: Only a little, and just fairly recently. ...Not gonna lie, I'm gonna end up missing these days; where we're all together, even through pain and suffering, because there are still a lot of good moments to cherish.

Higetsu: But it doesn't mean that you have to cut off your connections, now does it. So long as you still value them wholeheartedly and sincerely, those bonds you hold close to you will never die out.

Yoko: Aaawww, brother, you're being finally honest~! (pokes)

Higetsu: ....Shut it. (pout)

Yoko: What about you, brother? What're you gonna do after the war ends?

Higetsu: Like I said, I don't know, since I haven't thought of it yet. ...But, I suppose quietly settling down somewhere would be nice.

Yoko: Oh, right, speaking of which-- didn't Watanabe extend an offer for us to join the Oasis? ...Don't tell me, brother is thinking--

Higetsu: No, I am not.

Yoko: But you ARE thinking about it, yes?

Higetsu: ....

Yoko: Hehe~. To be fair, the Oasis isn't so bad. The people there are really nice and warm. They really do seem to be people just trying to live and get by, helping and supporting each other.

[xauroraxborealisx]

Writing Tag Game

thank you @kuriboh-i-choose-you for the tag <3 I do love these!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

20, all Yu-Gi-Oh ones! (there’s a hidden Kingdom Hearts fanfic on FF.net somewhere hihi)

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

441,106 words... Holy bleep! And in a little over a year only o.O’

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Deck the Dates (with cups of coffee) - Puzzleshipping

Elemental - Puzzleshipping

Netflix and Chill - Puzzleshipping

Habits - Rivalshipping

The Art of Conversation - Puzzleshipping

4. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I always, always do! Comments give me life! Sometimes, I am very late at responding to them and I am very sorry, but I always will answer! The relation between authors and readers is so important and must be cherished and nourished! People take their time to write a comment, it’s only commen sense for me to take some of mine to respond!

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Definitely Counting the Days, a collaborative piece with @atems-leather-pants I also have a few other pieces that end in angst, but they’re mostly drabbles scattered throughout Elemental.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I like happy endings, especially for the Puzzleboys because they really do deserve way, in whatever universe they find themselves in! So it’s probably a tie between Deck the Dates and The Art of Conversation, in terms of fluff I’d say!

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I haven’t written crossovers, althought Netflix and Chill is a huge ride into different universes and inspired by tones of various media pieces! To me, a crossover includes characters from both shows/movies and I tend to prefer putting the YGO characters in another universe, but keeping only them. I have discussed about AUs including Percy Jackson and the Olympians and Schitt’s Creek hihi

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not much hate per say, but comments that did rub me the wrong way, yes. Pants and I were told that we used too complicated words in our fics... because you know, we like words and we like to use the precise ones at times... I have also been told that I made Yugi look weak and pathetic in one of the chapters of my fics and it really made me sad because, to me, Yugi is anything but weak and pathetic, but I mean, he has EMOTIONS and he is allowed to show them. Oh and I was also told at one point that a reader hope this would become a peachshipping story... in a puzzleshipping tagged fic.

But honestly, I don’t why people send hate out there! If you don’t like what you read, you have no obligation to comment on it, you can just close the tab and forget it. You can give constructive criticism, yes, but always be mindful of the words you use. Words are weapon people, be careful with them <3

I mean... I don’t like Twilight and I haven’t sent hate mail to the author...

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Wh... why are you asking me this? *bluuuuuuuuuush*

But yeah, I do ;) and I often try to focus on different aspects and give it an emotional impact, although, sometimes, just letting steam out is nice too hihi

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I don’t think so. I once got a mention about a work being inspired by one of my fics, but it was mentionned and linked in the notes, so legit.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I mean, I could try to translate it in French hahaha but no, no one has ever translated my work.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I am fortunate enough to have found a great parter-in-crime in @atems-leather-pants and we have written quite a few together and have another few planned out already. We’re #hivemind productions if you ever want to check it out!

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Puzzleshipping has my heart and will always have <3

Although I do like Rival, Yugi-centric Flare, Thief and I also believe in the Yugi factor in which shipping Yugi with anyone is like, it just works!

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Hummmmmmm I do have a list of WIPs and I actually intend of writing them all, but you know, time... Although I did start writing a Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle AU that may never see the light of day *sobs* but I shall drabble for it because I care about it!

15. What are your writing strengths?

I adore writing dialogues, I dream about dialogues, I fantasize about them <3

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Editing... writing short pieces... battling against sleepiness... did I mention writing SHORTER pieces?

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

If it works in the story and if it has purpose in it, it can be great! I love languages and seeing them used for plot purposes is even better!

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Digimon <3 yup, still have that hidden away somewhere. Digimon will always be my first love!

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Ooooooooh this is hard! I adore collaborating and I take care of each of my stories like they were my children hihi but I think I’ll always say Elemental because it’s the fic that got me here <3 It made me realise that I could write, that writing wasn’t done just one way even by the same author, and that I really loved doing it. It led me to write more, to tackle on longer one-shots, to write multi-chaps and it led me to this fandom and to the wonderful people that are in it <3

I have no idea who to tag because, from what I’ve seen, everyone before me has also been tagged!

But if you’re an author out there, even if you’re just starting or have yet to publish, tell me about you! Reach out, talk to me about your writing!

Because writing is also about community, especially in fanfiction, and this should be celebrated <3

[firefly464]

The Real World - Chapter 6

Ok I’m really curious to see what you guys think of this one. Let me or Pami know what potential theories you may have because thats always very interesting 👀. 

Also I dunno if I’ve mentioned this before but constructive criticism is always welcomed and very much appreciated! I’m always looking to improve as a writer, and I’ve found that critiques 

Made in collaboration with @i-have-this-now

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~~~

Dream stepped into the small building that had been dedicated to peace negotiations. It wasn’t much other than a single room with a long table, but the tension inside could have been cut with a knife. On one side of the table sat George, Sapnap, Punz, and Eret. All four were tense, ready to attack at any moment. It was completely different from the joking, playful atmosphere that has surrounded them that morning. Sapnap glared at the masked man as he entered the building, likely considering just how many different ways he could strangle him. Dream was once more thankful for the mask covering his face, as he turned away with a grimace. 

On the other side sat Tubbo and Fundy. The L’Manberg side of the table was filled with a very different atmosphere. They both wore expressions of very hesitant hope. Tubbo turned to Wilbur as he walked in, his eyes asking a silent question. 

The older man gave a small nod, his face revealing nothing. A of disbelief spread over Tubbo’s face. “What's the catch?” he asked hesitantly, staring at the masked man for an answer. 

A very small smile formed on Dreams face, although it was hidden to the younger boy. He shrugged, saying, “None. The Dream SMP surrenders to L’manberg.” 

The skeptic look on Tubbo’s face only increases. 

A low growl emerged from Sapnap’s throat. “Dream, you can’t do this,” he hissed sharply.

Dream ignored him, pulling the document from his bag. He rolled it out on the table. On the top of the document, in big, bold letters, read “Treaty of Surrender.” Under that, the words “By signing this document, the Dream SMP hereby recognizes L’manberg as its own, independent nation.” Below, in smaller print, was a list of different agreements. It wasn’t complex, mostly just outlining the basics of any peace treaty. But everyone knew what it meant. 

A quill sat in a small inkwell on the table. With a steady hand, Dream picked it up, and signed the paper. He had nearly started to sign his actual name, but had managed to catch himself last minute. Setting the quill down, he glanced at the men sitting at either side of him. “I require that at least one of my own men signs this treaty as a witness,” he declared, staring them each in the eye individually. 

The resulting silence was palpable. Not a single person stood, offering to sign the document. ‘They’re all too prideful. They don’t want to admit defeat,’ Dream thought as he looked at them. 

2 to 3 minutes passed in silence. Then, something surprising happened. Eret stood, staring at the paper with a furrowed brow. “I’m still becoming king, right?” he asked.

Dream nodded. He had figured that Eret had been promised the position by the other Dream, so he had made sure to include it. “Of course.” 

“Then I will sign.” In a swift motion, Eret signed the document and tossed the quill onto the table in front of Wilbur. 

Dream sent his friend a relieved smile. “Thank you Eret. Now then. Wilbur, it is your turn to sign.” 

Wilbur quickly read over the terms of surrender and signed the document, Tommy signing as well as witness. 

The entire room seemed to hold its breath as the quill scratched against the paper. It felt like the entire world had let out a huge sigh of relief the moment Tommy picked the quill back up. Dream smiled and rolled up the document. “Well then. The treaty shall be kept in here for safe keeping. You guys are good to go if you want,” he said, trying his best to sound official and important sounding.

Apparently it worked. Tubbo stared at where the document had been sitting moments before. In a soft tone, he whispered, “we did it…” 

Wilbur placed a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder, and very quietly replied “Yeah. We did it”

~~~

Dream watched as Tommy, Wilbur, Fundy, and Tubbo all left the small building. He had been hoping to leave as well, but one look at the people around him told him that wasn’t going to be an option. He gulped nervously. 

The moment that the L’manberg soldiers were out of view, Sapnap was on his feat, sword in hand. He stormed over to Dream, pinning him to the wall, blade across his neck. His face was twisted with anger and rage. “You son of a bitch what the hell was that about?! What the fuck were you thinking?!?!” 

“I have my reasons Sapnap,” Dream choked out. It was the second time in 24 hours that someone had held a sword to his neck, and it wasn’t a trend that he particularly enjoyed. Hopefully, it was a trend that wasn’t going to continue. 

“Bullshit! You swore to me that you were going to win this war! Not that you were going to fucking surrender!” He cried, pressing the blade into Dreams skin. Small beads of blood started to form where metal met skin. “We had them! We fucking had them and you went and threw it away like a coward!” 

“I didn’t realize that letting people live was such a crime Sapnap!” Dream shouted back. “I didn’t fucking realize that it was illegal to feel pity or sympathy!” 

His friend stared at him, before putting even more pressure against the blade. Dream was starting to panic slightly “I didn’t follow you to be lectured on granting mercy, Dream. I followed you because you swore you would win.” he took a step back, allowing Dream to fall to the ground at his feet.

Dream coughed several times, trying to recover from his windpipe being crushed. He pounded a fist to his chest, trying to clear his airway. When he looked up at Sapnap, he was greeted only with a kick to the chest, sending him sprawling across the floor. The mask, so carefully fixed by someone he had thought of as a friend, had flown across the room. Dream didn’t care. He wanted that mask gone. 

He lay there on the ground for a minute, trying to desperately catch his breath. “Wh-why…?” he asked, the words coming out as desperate gasps for air. 

“Heh. Never thought I would see the day when the great Dream lay at my feet, begging for mercy. Oh how the mighty have fallen,” Sapnap said with a chuckle. He turned towards the door. “I’m leaving. If you have any need of me again, you know where to find me. Just next time, I expect some actual fucking results.” 

George walked around the long table as Sapnap left, looking at his friend in concern. Eret and Punz had already left, leaving just the two of them. “I really hope you have a plan,” he said. His eyes were full of pity as he walked away, leaving the gasping man alone on the floor. 

~~~

“Dude, are you serious?” It was late at night, around midnight. Dream and Tommy were back at the training grounds, each trying to learn how to fight. Of course, they didn’t exactly have anyone to teach them, so they were both just practicing basic moves that Dream had seen George use. The results were… varied, to say the least.

As they spared, Dream had told Tommy what had happened earlier that day after the conference. “I mean, I knew Sapnap was a little bitch, but I didn’t realize he was that much of a dick here”

Dream shrugged. “He used to joke that he was like a mercenary, and only in it for the money. Guess that it’s less of a joke here.”

“I feel like anything that was jokingly on stream held some sliver of truth here. Including everyone’s personalities,” Tommy chuckled as he blocked a strike “that’s probably why no one trusts me here. I kinda acted like a complete idiot on stream”

“You still do.”

“Oh haha. At least I wasn’t a fucking psychopath”

Dream shook his head “I still don’t get why I was apparently so scary…”

“You literally sent us a voice clip saying that you would burn L’manberg to the ground if we didn’t surrender”

Dream let out a sigh “yeah… Yeah I suppose I did” 

Sensing the sudden mood shift, Tommy quickly tried his best to change the subject. “So… What about George? Is he any different from back home?” 

“George is…” Dream’s voice trailed off as he thought, trying to figure out how to put his thoughts into words. 

“George is no different from how he’s always been,” said the man in question as he stepped out of the shadows. For the third time that day, Dream found himself with the blade of a netherite sword against his throat. “Now then. Would either of you care to explain who the hell you are and what you’re doing here?” 

Tommy dropped his wooden training sword and raised his hands into the air, trying to look as harmless as possible. “George, how much… How much did you hear?” He asked, keeping his voice calm, despite the fact that he wanted to scream.

George shifted the blade so that it was now pointed at the teenagers throat, shutting him up rather quickly. “I heard enough to know that neither of you are who you say you are. What the fuck is going on?” 

Dream took a small step towards his friend, his hands up as well “Look, we’re still Tommy and Dream, I promise.” He knew that he couldn’t try to lie his way out of this one. To be honest, their best option was probably to tell the truth and hope George could keep his mouth shut. 

“Exactly!” Tommy chimed in, trying to be helpful. Dream glared at him. 

“Please. I’m not an idiot. I knew something was wrong from the moment you shot Tommy during the duel. The real Dream never would have taken off his mask, much less show any sort of regret,” George said, stepping forward so that his blade rested against Dream’s neck, in the exact same spot Sapnap had cut earlier.

“I’m still Dream, I swear! Just because I’m not fucking insane doesn’t mean I’m a different person!”

“Maybe, but the real Dream would know how to fight. He wouldn’t be flailing around with a sword like a chicken with its head cut off.”

Tommy snorted “He’s got you there. You do look really stupid.”

Dream made a choking sound in surprise “I- You look just as dumb!”

“Maybe, but at least I’m not supposed to be the world's greatest swordsman” 

“As a child, your opinion is automatically invalid”

“As a child, I automatically don’t give a shit.”

George’s eyes darted between the two, as if he were watching an intense tennis match. “Enough!” he finally yelled, shutting them both up pretty quickly. “All I want are some fucking answers!” He pressed his sword more against Dreams throat, opening the thin cut and allowing a small trickle of blood to form.

Dream gulped and looked at Tommy. Normally he would have taken control of the situation himself, but he didn’t exactly trust himself to not anger his friend. 

Tommy nodded, and started to explain their story. He told George how the two of them had suddenly been transported from their home to the SMP world. He explained how neither of them knew what was going on, or why they couldn’t leave. He even explained how back home, everyone had been friends. The war had been nothing more than a game, a show that they had put on for the sake of entertainment. As he spoke about his own home, he could feel tears start to pool up inside his eyes. He hastily tried to wipe them away, but it didn’t matter. George had already seen. 

The man lowered his sword, not once taking his eyes off either of them. “So you’re telling me that you come from a world where all of this,” he gestured around him towards the world as he spoke, “is completely fake.”

“Yeah, that sums it up pretty well,” Tommy replied, rubbing the red scar on his neck. It was a nervous habit that he had quickly picked up from Wilbur, despite the fact that he hadn’t even been there when he had received the scar. 

Dream stumbled back, using his jacket sleeve to try and stop the stream of blood from his neck. There was already a dark stain on the cuff from earlier that day. God, he was going to get a lasting scar if this continued. “We just want to get home,” He told George, “I promise, we don’t mean anyone any harm.”

George pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. “You both do realize how unbelievable this all sounds, right?”

“Yeah, we know” 

“I really don’t want to believe you… But this explains so much. Is that why you trashed your base?”

“I told you I was feeling stressed. I just may have failed to mention what exactly I was stressed about”

“I knew you weren’t feeling well… I just didn’t realize it was because of something like this. That's why neither of you know how to fight anymore, isn’t it?”

Tommy shrugged “Sword fighting isn’t exactly a common sport in our world. I’ve never even touched a real sword before this week.” 

“Oh my god… Does anyone else know?” George asked.

Dream looked over at Tommy, silently asking a question. Tommy shook his head “The only person who knows something is wrong is Tubbo, and he thinks I just have amnesia from a weird enchantment or something.” 

“Are you serious? I thought we agreed not to tell anyone!”

“This was before I even knew you were here! How else was I supposed to get any information? Besides, Tubbo’s my bro. I trust him not to tell anyone.” 

“What about Wilbur…? Does he know?” George asked, his brow furrowed in thought.

“Nope. I mean, he clearly knows that something is up, but other than that he has no idea.”

“That doesn’t seem right… Wilbur should know that his second in command is missing.”

Tommy cried out in outrage, “What do you mean? I’m right here!” 

“He means the other you. You know, the one that actually lived here?” Dream said calmly. 

“Exactly. That other Tommy is currently missing. Who knows where he could be. Wilbur deserves to know.” 

Tommy let out a groan of annoyance “ughhhh fine! I’ll tell him tomorrow. 10 bucks he isn’t going to believe me.”

“No way am I losing 10 bucks like that,” Dream replied. 

“Killjoy,” The teenager muttered. 

George was once more watching them both with confusion. He looked down at his feet, trying to weigh his options. That’s when he noticed the discarded training swords. An idea sprang into his head. “What if I tried to teach you both sword fighting? I’m not the best, but the other Dream taught me, and he was the best of the best.” 

Dream grimaced. Just another reminder that he was just an imposter. Still, he forced himself to nod. “That would be good. Thanks.”

~~~

“Please, I just want to go home…” Tommy said into the phone. It had taken a bit of work to convince Wilbur and Tubbo that he wasn’t insane and definitely knew what a phone was, but they had eventually caved. 

Wilbur hadn’t wanted to question his younger friend after who knows what had happened to him. It would have just stressed him out and made everyone more upset. So he had allowed Tommy to borrow his phone to call Dream. Now, him and Tubbo were sat at the table in Tommy’s backyard, hearing only snippets of the one-sided conversation.

“What do you mean? Why not?! I won’t do anything I promise!” A couple seconds of silence. Tommy’s face went slack in shock. “You can’t be serious. No, no no no you’re joking, aren’t you. Y-you wouldn’t dare.” More silence. “Fine! I won’t, I swear! Just please don’t do it.” 

Wilbur watched the conversation with concern. He could hear Tommy’s raised voice from where he was sitting, and what he was hearing was definitely good cause for concern. He glanced at Tubbo, who looked just as worried. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I will. Bye.” A long, drawn out tone sounded from the speaker. Tommy sighed and walked back over to Wilbur and Tubbo, trying his best to hide his tears. It didn’t work.

Tubbo was instantly on alert, trying to check on his friend. “Hey man, are you ok?” He made sure not to get too close after getting hit in the jaw. 

“Y-yeah. Yeah I’m good. Just… just a bit in shock still. A lot has happened in the past week…”

“You want to talk about it?” Wilbur asked gently.

Tommy shook his head violently “No. No I really don’t. Don’t worry guys, I’ll be fine. Thanks”

~~~

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