#but is TOO OLD AND SENILE TO RUN AWAY ANYWAY

[sidetongue]

4/7 

[disappearinginq]

I’m so excited you like Steve Crain too! He’s been a favorite character of mine for years at this point, and doesn’t deserve the hate he gets.

It bothers me when people don’t recognize the responsibility that weighs on characters. They essentially lost both of their parents at the same time, and you know Steve had to be the one to step up.

This isn’t just applicable to Haunting of Hill House, of course. But I’ve noticed that fans vilify the characters that aren’t victimized as obviously / aren’t the main character.

Anyways, just wanted to share with a fellow Steve-enjoyed lol

New Bestie - same. I got into a very heated discussion about how if the Crain siblings are supposed to represent the 5 stages of grief, the fandom has Steve and Shirley switched around, because everyone says that Steve is Denial and Shirley is Bargaining.

Meanwhile, in the show, Steve spends his adult life going around not necessarily trying to debunk ghosts, but hoping that maybe this time, it will be ghosts, because then maybe his family will just be a different kind of crazy. He says his mom and his sister are sick, and they needed help. He reminds me more of Fox Mulder - the "I want to believe" vibe. But he also is in the unique position of seeing ghosts and not knowing about it. All of his ghosts are people with jobs, moving around the house like normal people. Everyone hears the dogs at night, not just him. He doesn't hear banging on the walls, he doesn't see creepy zombies in the basement, he doesn't have his future self freaking the hell out of him his entire life. He sees his mom - and as far as he's concerned (because this is a horror show, not supernatural, the world he occupies is the one we're in - no vampires and ghosts, etc, and that is Understood) it's just the mental illness that has gone through his whole family finally catching up with him. Anyone in this world who has a family member swear they're being stalked by a faceless ghost while they're high on drugs is going to come to same conclusion Steve does, which is that they're nuts. BUT - he looks for any signs that he is wrong. And I'm still mad that they cut out part of the first episode that has Steve refusing to write about his family anymore, no matter the price, while driving by an accident where he sees multiple people standing around, but when he turns away and the camera is the only one on the accident, you only see the firefighters/first responders.

Meanwhile, Shirley is 100% in denial about everything, including what her own ghosts were. In her House Nightmare at the end, she even denies what actually happened - in her version, she doesn't have an affair. The House actually calls her out on "But that's not what happened, is it?" When Steve is doing CPR on his dying brother, Shirley's first words are "This isn't real". She denies Luke from going to Nell's wedding. She denies that their mother had anything wrong with her, she's in denial that she's running her own business into the ground, she's in denial about the death of the kittens, she's in denial about ghosts too - even though she has much more explicit contact with them with the knocking, and with a witness both times (Theo). She's in denial about the night that they had to flee Hill House. Like if she says it often enough, then it will be true that her family is fine and nothing is wrong.

Sorry. Long rant. But I love this character and this show so much and no one ever wants to talk about it (except @amandagaelic, and she has listened to me for literally hours at this point). One of these days, I will actually finish the Haunting of Hill House fic I have, and it will be posted.

We might all be dead from old age, or so senile we don't even remember the source material, but I'll stipulate in my will that it has to be posted. :-D

AND YES - people have a weird habit of like...picking one character to defend and that's the end of it. No one else can do any right and that character can do no wrong. I see it in Yellowstone fandom a lot. Or in Marvel (the Steve/Tony argument made me leave it altogether). I don't know if it's because fandoms are now predominantly younger, louder/more obnoxious from the safety net of internet anonymity or what, but Seeing Things from Someone Else's Point of View seems to be a lost art in both media and reality.

[twilightmalachite]

Raison d’être - A Premature Burial 6

Author: Akira

Characters: Shu, Mika

Translator: Mika Enstars

"Compared to him back then, I don’t think you are inferior at all. No—Dolls and humans are not to be weighed in a balance in the first place."

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Winter

Location: Itsuki Family Mansion Guest Room

Several minutes later, in the Itsuki family mansion’s guest room…

Shu: First off, I’d like to tell you the findings I’m sure you too have been worried about… Turns out, Grandfather passing away was indeed a falsehood.

Mika: S-So it was a lie? I’m glad…♪

Shu: There’s nothing to be glad about. He’s old enough that it wouldn’t be strange for him to reach enlightenment, so we would like him to refrain from playing around a little.

Mika: Sounds like yer mischievous Grandfather’s havin’ fun…

Shu: You think that because it’s not your problem to deal with… Grandfather causes us so much trouble, in fact; by staging a performance of his own death, he brings in the entirety of his family, every time.

And once he does, he presents us with some impossible task!

Mika: S-So he’s like Princess Kaguya…

Shu: He’s not someone that lovely…

The task this time is one of the better ones, however. Last time, he gathered us on an isolated island and caught us up in solving riddles and searching for treasure.

Mika: Nah, that really does sound like a lotta fun, though…

Shu: We are fed up with playing along with an old man’s whimsical games! I know it is a vulgar expression, but I am sick of being pushed around a senile old man.

Mika: (Ahaha, the fact he’s using such unusually informal expressions shows Oshi-san really is relaxed and at ease.)

Shu: What are you making that face for?

Moving on—While it is just a game held at Grandfather’s whim, because it’s a game, there will be “prizes”.

Those who win get awarded a portion of his fortune, which he has amassed through his business acumen.

It is a good amount of money, so it seems to be a welcome event for those in the family who are going through hardships.

Doing my first year, back when I was alone with Nito in Valkyrie, we used money gotten from that to fund our activities.

No, without it, we would have fallen bankrupt early on.

Mika: Ya are a big spender, Oshi-san… I see, I had wondered how you managed before I’d be earnin’ money through campus part-time jobs and such.

Shu: If anything, having a large amount of initial capital had distorted my sense of money somewhat… I guess you could say I went mad.

I think I had come to believe that no matter how much money I spent, I’d never run out.

Mika: Nnah~, I had thought it was just ‘cause ya were a rich boy, Oshi-san.

Shu: There is that too. Anyway—Given there is no such thing as too much money, I hope to try to win again this year.

Rewards from SS have our pockets lined, but as the years go on, our performances have gotten increasingly more luxurious. We never have enough money.

That much is inevitable, if we are to ignore ES’ wishes and move as we wish… So in that case, it would be best to earn any necessary funding solitarily, and so forth.

Mika: I think it’s fine if we do what ES says. I think that’d solve ‘bout everythin’—but that’s what Valkyrie’s all about, aint it?

Shu: That’s right. Well, I’ll cut to the chase. I’d like to request your help in winning Grandfather’s game this time around.

Mika: That’s a given, I’ll do anythin’ for ya, Oshi-san.

But can I even be of help…? Last time ya won, you had Nazuna-nii as your partner, right?

Compared to Nazuna-nii, I’m incompetent, and my head is no good, either.

Shu: You appear to be overestimating Nito quite a bit. Of course, he was lovely and precious, my masterpiece at the time, but…

Compared to him back then, I don’t think you are inferior at all.

Shu: No—Dolls and humans are not to be weighed in a balance in the first place.

We still cannot create the perfect human being, even with the most superior of modern sciences. No matter how excellent a doll may be, it is still no match for a human being. That is just a generalization, however.

And you have become a human. Have confidence, Kagehira.

Mika: Right… Sorry t’be so timid, Oshi-san.

I’ll do my best. I’ll do what I can to the best of my ability!

Shu: Very good. And of course, I am shamelessly involving you in our private affairs because I believe I have a chance of winning.

Grandfather’s proposal he is hosting this time is for a “Funeral Contest”, if I had to name it.

Mika: Nnah…? What’s that mean? Well I know the word, but…

Shu: I’m sure you are aware of the cultural concept of living funerals.

Before one actually passes away, the funeral rites are sorted out, as well as the inheritance and any other necessary matters for when they do pass—That’s the idea.

Apparently, Grandfather wishes to have one of these living funerals.

Of course, once you pass away, you can no longer move. Funeral services and the such will then be conducted by the bereaved family.

It saves us time and effort. Quite the noble gesture, isn’t it?

And so forth. I can’t even give him an honest compliment…

Grandfather was also unexpectedly feeling quite timid in the face of death, and told us this is the last time he’ll be playing around with us.

He gave us the order not to cut corners and to give it everything we’ve got.

[ ☆ ]

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[baronetcoins]

Anything to make me feel less numb

A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day! I’ve been noodling about this AU for months now, and when I saw you were also into Destiny? Well, I couldn’t resist. Hope you enjoy! (Title from It’s All Futile! It’s All Pointless! By Lovejoy) @arcaneglitchlitch @mcyt-valentines

A desolate moon, a desperate man, and a bad idea (Read it on Ao3 here)

Europa had to be one of the worst places in the solar system. Freezing cold, with wind that always tried to blow you away and snowdrifts that piled up to your waist in places. Tommy shivered and pulled his cloak tighter around him, mentally thanking Techno for gifting him one lined with fur. 

Kristin’s voice crackled to life over the radio. “The last time we were able to make contact with Wilbur, he was around here. Hopefully he hasn’t died of exposure yet.” 

“Not funny.” Tommy shoved his face into the fur collar. 

She sighed. “I know. Look out for him? He’s been acting strange since—” 

He bristled. “You would be too, if you lost your ghost.” 

“I was trying to be delicate.” 

“Whatever. This place gives me the creeps.” 

Kristin laughed a little. “You’re telling me. That pyramid is the worst; I don’t know why he’d wind up here.” 

“I’m worried I might.” Tommy set his mouth and held out his hand for Henry to summon his sparrow. 

Racing along the surface made the biting wind even more unpleasant—he had never been more thankful for his helmet. Without it, he’d definitely have frostbite after just a few minutes' ride. Insulated armor could only do so much against the sheer force of a planet that seemed to hate him specifically. How Wilbur was faring with his tendency to eschew heavier armor… well, Tommy wasn’t thinking about it. He wasn’t thinking about it so hard. 

“It’s like finding a needle in a haystack,” Henry muttered, mostly to himself. “If Friend were here, I could just ping him, but…” 

“I know,” Tommy snapped back. “We just have to find him on our own.”

“Did you ask Scar?” Kristin asked. 

“I did. No sign of him. He was heading back to the Tower, though, so I’m going to go check out the campsite anyway.” 

“If it got cold enough, he might have gone there for shelter,” Henry finished. 

“Well, good luck. I’m running late for a Consensus meeting. Keep me up to date?” 

“Will do.” Henry gave a little twirl. 

Tommy pressed down on the accelerator as he crested another dune of snow. As soon as he rounded the corner into the flat plane that surrounded the campsite, he spotted a black structure in the distance, clearly built in the architecture of the pyramids. Standing on its steps was a familiar set of brown robes. 

“Wilbur!” He yelled over the helmet’s external speakers. “Where have you been?” 

Wilbur didn’t turn around, continuing his climb towards the top of the structure. Tommy raced the last feet between them, stopping just before the structure and using the light to propel himself to land just in front of Wilbur. 

“What are you doing?” He grabbed onto Wilbur’s shoulders. “We’ve all been worried about you. We should get inside, it’s fucking freezing out here.” 

“You can stop treating me like I’m fragile.” Wilbur shook off his hands. 

“Still, we shouldn’t stay around here for too long. This place is full of darkness.” 

“That’s rather the point,” he snapped back. 

“You can’t be serious.” Tommy looked at his face, obscured by his helmet. “We just killed Eramis, man. We tried to stop stasis.” 

“Well, what if we didn’t have to? Scar wields it just fine.” Wilbur attempted to push forward. He was no match for Tommy’s light-assisted strength. 

“Yeah, but he’s Scar. You’re—”

“I’m what, Tommy. Why don’t you tell me.” 

“You’re mortal, for one.” Tommy’s hands hovered in the air, halfway between resting at his sides and reaching for Wilbur again. “What if it kills you?” 

“So what if it does?” Wilbur shouted. “What if it kills me? What if it leads me to die right now, instead of slowly withering of old age? What if it stops you from watching me grow senile, while you stay trapped in the body of a fucking teenager? What then?” 

“I don’t want you to die.” 

“I’m already dead.” Wilbur deflated. “It’s just a matter of when it finally catches up to me.” 

“Scar has a ghost.” 

“And I don’t. So we can stop beating around the bush.” 

“Wilbur—”

“Please. I’m so tired of being weak.” 

Tommy inhaled for a second and stepped to the side. There was an awkward moment as Wilbur tried to get around him up the stairs without falling off and breaking his ankle. Tommy wound up grabbing him by the shoulders again and slightly picking him up so they could manage it. 

On the other side, Wilbur dusted off his robes with as much dignity as he could and continued climbing the ziggurat. Henry hovered nervously over Tommy’s shoulder, watching as he climbed towards the top. Tommy took a few steps back. 

At the peak, Wilbur reached into the aether and pulled out a shard made of the same strange material as the pyramids in a vaguely triangular shape. Tommy and Henry both watched as he considered it for a moment and before gently offering it toward the center of the ziggurat where an array of four floating shapes waited. 

For an instant, the world seemed to hold its breath. Even the raging wind quieted to the point it only barely stirred the bottom of Wilbur’s robes. His hand stayed in the same offering position as he began to gently float into the air, shards of ice coalescing around his body. 

For a moment, Tommy tried to reach out to shatter them, but his hand seemed stopped by an invisible force. All he could do was watch as the ice froze Wilbur into a statue. All the air rushed forward, whipping his cloak around him, before blowing back with an audibly whoosh as the ice exploded into a million tiny shards that reflected the blinding light of the endless snow back at him. It looked as though Wilbur was surrounded by a halo as he floated, suspended in air for another few moments before gently falling back to the ground. 

“Well.” He turned back to Tommy, playing with crystals of ice he formed and dispersed in his hand. “What do you say we go test this out? You and me, just like the old days.” 

Tommy took a second to jam his all doubts into the little box in his chest. “You know, I hear there’s a group of fallen living in the old Braytech facility. Bunch of real wronguns.” 

“Well.” Wilbur grabbed his scout rifle off his back. “Sounds like we have a mission.”

[omentranslates]

Owari no Seraph chapter 122 full english fan translation

PLEASE BE AWARE OF SPOILERS, THE OFFICIAL ENGLISH WILL NOT RELEASE UNTIL THE 10TH!!!! I've gone through the chapter for anyone who would like to read it before then, thank you for reading!

Chapter 122: Calories Spent on the Journey

Mika: Alright then, I'm going in.

In a beat up shack within the sea of trees (Aokigahara)

Mika: We're gonna go take a look at the past.

Yuu: Yup.

Mika: I'm going then.

Yuu: Oh, he vanished. Guess I should get going too then.

Mika: ….what time period is this??

-

Ancient Greece

-

Mika: Oh, Yuuchan

Yuu: Hey, Mika

Mika: Why did you turn into a kid?

Yuu: Could ask you the same.

Mika: Oh, I guess it's more energy efficient this way, being small like this. It's almost like you have the desire somewhere to go back to when you were this small.

Yuu: Ah, well yeah. Since everyone was alive then. So, where are we? It looks like we've gone back SUPER far. I sure have lived a long life.

Mika: It's like it belongs to someone else entirely. These are all more or less your own memories, nothing looks familiar at all?

Yuu: Maybe I went senile from living so long.

Mika: Oh true, you do always kinda look like your head's empty.

Yuu: HEY.

Mika: AH, AH WAIT YUUCHAN. HIDE!

Yuu: What

Yuu: What's wrong-?

Mika: SHH!! The first is here!

Yuu: Huh? Oh, for real.

Mika: I wonder if they'll notice us here…

Yuu: How is he here? Aren't these OUR memories?

Mika: Well, yours.

Yuu: Feels like your memories as a demon are mixed in here too though, to me anyway.

Mika: Oh….well….

Yuu: Here they come.

Mika: Shut up!

Mika: Yeah….I guess it's ok to come out now?

Mika: Hmmmm….still scary. Didn't he find us the last time we were looking in the past like this?

Yuu: Well he was really close already that time, wasn't he? Do you feel it now, do you feel him?

Mika: Just a little. It's super far away though, like he's become incredibly weak. I wonder why?

Yuu: I wonder…

Vampire Scientist: KEEP UP THE RESISTANCE, DON'T GIVE HIM AN INCH!! MORE MEDICINE, HURRY UP, DO IT NOW!! ONE MISTAKE AND LORD RIGR IS DEAD.

Rigr: Now then, First. I'll be looking inside you.

Yuu: HEY, OLD GUY. CAN YOU SEE ME? He can't, right?

Mika: So then, he can't bump into us or anything either?

Mika: OOF

Mika: NOPE, WE CAN STILL GET KNOCKED AROUND.

Yuu: They can't see us though, what's with that?

Mika: The things in our memories can't see us because they're just memories. But we can still touch them, they're the same as the ground we're standing on I guess?

Yuu: So the First and them can't see us either then? Since that's the First from the past?

Mika: I think so. But….

Mika: If we can be touched, we can take damage in an attack. So I still think we'd better not get too close.

Yuu: Yeah? Alright, well if he finds us out we'll just run anyways then.

Mika: Right, let's do that.

Yuu: And while we're running we can get a feel for this memory of the past. So where to next?

Mika: Shouldn't we see where the First's group was coming from? In the memory we just saw there was that giant mansion over there.

Yuu: Oh, true, there's that.

-

The Court of the First

A massive space in the ground underneath it, containing a single coffin.

-

Mika: Oh, this place! We've seen this before!!

Yuu: Oh, yeah, where your super beautiful doppelganger is! In that box, right?

Yuu: Look he's here, Mika: beautiful edition!

Mika: Is that really me?

Yuu: Doesn't it look just like you?

Mika: Well-

Yuu: And he has wings. He's an angel.

Mika: This is the First's child, right? That's what he said?

Mika: ….hey, what's wrong Yuuchan?

Yuu: Oh…I just remember this somehow. I used to be stuck to this glass like glue.

Mika: Really? Can you remember any more than that?

Yuu: ….no dice. I can't remember. I know it, though. I was always pressed up against it talking.

Mika: Talking to who?

Yuu: To him.*

Mika: He can talk? I thought the First said he was dead.

Mika: Hey, Mr. Looks Like Me, can you please say something??

Mika: What kind of stuff did you talk about?

Yuu: Hmmm….I can't remember. This is kinda painful, I remember it like up to my throat, but it won't reach my brain.

Mika: I'm pretty sure your throat isn't where you remember things but

Yuu: Come on, what did I say??? It's….it's….no good. I'm not getting it.

Mika: But you were talking? To the corpse?

Yuu: Yeah. Don't you remember anything?

Mika: Huh?

Yuu: Well if this kid IS you, won't you have his memories?

Distant voice: Miiiiikaaaaaaa, Miiiiiiiikaaaaaaaaa

Mika: Maybe…..there might? Be something? Or not? Maybe some massive idiot who wouldn't shut up going "Mika Mika"

Yuu: hey isn't that me….?

Mika: Yeah well it could be a recent memory too. You do this a lot.

Yuu: I do not.

Mika: Sure man.

Yuu: Anyways, I think that's all we'll find out from staying here. Let's go further back.

Mika: Yeah. So how far back can this thing go, I wonder? Just how many years HAVE you been alive?

Yuu: Who knows?

Yuu: I wanna find out too, so let's get going. How do we go further back?

Mika: I let loose the power I get from your desires. And force us back.

Mika: …ah, Yuuchan you're running on empty.

Yuu: What, already? I was just doing nothing but eating, though.

Mika: I know, but go eat some more. I'll keep trying to go further into the past.

Yuu: Mmk, got it. See you then!

Mika: Laterrrr

Yuu: Aaaaaah, hell yeah! Going on adventures just the two of us is so fun!!!

stomach growling

Yuu: Oh damn, I was hungry. I'm gonna pass out.

Yuu: I'll have to eat a lot so we can go SO far back.

Mika: Yuuchan, Yuuchan!

Yuu: Oho?

Mika: You've eaten enough, we're good now. The path to the past has opened up, it goes SO far back.

Yuu: Ohoho?

Mika: …I have no idea what you're saying. Just hurry and come back. This….this is so far into the past…it's scary.

Yuu: unintelligible food in mouth noise

Yuu: Ok.

Yuu: Wow, you've sure been working hard, huh?

Mika: Because that door to the past wouldn't budge for anything.

Yuu: Door?

Yuu: Oh, that. So that's connected to the memories deepest in the past?

Mika: Yeah.

Yuu: You sneak a peek?

Mika: Only a little.

Yuu: What was it like?

Mika: You should see for yourself, it's totally fucked in there. If these are your memories, I have no clue what you are.

Yuu: I'll take a look then.

Yuu: Open up, past of mine. Let's see what the hell you are.

The past even further back than Ancient Greece, what's inside it is….!?

To Be Continued

*T/N: Yuu uses an affectionate term to describe the angel Mikaela, （子）. It means child or sometimes girl, but can be used generally for anything you're fond of and is notably distinct from everyone else using the more general term for a child when talking abt the corpse.

[duhragonball]

JoJolion Ch. 12-17

I remember making a joke about this panel in 2017, calling it the origin of Ski soda, because Ski has an orange and lemon slice on the logo. But Ski's manufactured by Double Cola, which is pretty obscure, so I don't know if it lands. I still think it's funny, and I wanted to use it all over again here, but, nah.

Instead, I guess I'll just drop any irony or humor and just say this is probably one of my favorite images from JoJolion. Looks even better in color.

Anyway, this is "Paisley Park and Born This Way", which introduces two new Stands. Oooh.

This arc starts with Josuke doing his laundry at the Higashikata mansion, but he finds one of Joshuu's shirts in his basket, and Joshuu thinks he's stealing money that was in one of the pockets. He hits Josuke twice, completely unprovoked, and almost pulls a knife on him, when Norisuke breaks it up.

But that was kind of unpleasant, so I'm skipping ahead to this shot of Yasuho Hirose vamping down the street. Hubba-hubba! Josuke has snuck out of the mansion and he uses his newly acquired cell phone to arrange a meeting with Yasuho in town. They're looking for Dr. Holly Joestar-Kira, the mother of Yoshikage Kira, whose corpse they discovered a couple of arcs ago. The Higashikatas are up to something, and the Joestar-Kiras are distantly related to them, so they're hoping Holly can shed some light on Josuke's identity.

But Josuke doesn't know his way around town, so Yasuho advises him to use the GPS navigator in Daiya's phone. He tries it, but it gives him nonsensical directions, and then he gets attacked by an enemy Stand. This one looks like a motorcycle with a black rider. It pursues Josuke relentlessly, and whenever it gets close everything gets really cold. Josuke only manages to escape it when he realizes that the GPS is giving him directions to escape the Stand. At one point it tells him to go "up" and he realizes he has to climb up a pole and kick the Stand away.

Meanwhile, Yasuho goes on ahead and finds Holly in the TG University hospital. But she's not part of the staff, she's a patient. Holly seems nice enough, but she seems almost senile, even though she's only 52 years old. When she meets Yasuho, she insists that she looks like a woman in a pornographic magazine she has for some reason. Yasuho is offended, but she's too inquisitive to stay distracted for long.

But Yasuho gets caught by the staff and escorted out of the hospital by security before she can learn anything. Only then does Holly seem to intuit that Holly is an ally who must "investigate the family tree". She also seems aware that Yasuho has a Stand of her own, though Yasuho herself hasn't realized it yet. So Holly seems to know some things, but her condition seems to have made her unable to communicate it to anyone else.

Back to Josuke, most of this arc is him trying to get away from Born This Way. Since the GPS is helping him, he deduces that there's a second Stand involved here, and its feeding him advice through the phone. Unfortunately, it can only tell him which way to run. Josuke has to discover for himself how BTW can track him the way it does, and he eventually figures out that it appears whenever he opens something like a door, a book, or a flip phone.

I like the design of Born This Way, but this arc doesn't have much to it. It's mostly Josuke fleeing from a Stand he can't defend himself against. Then he figures out how it works and gets an assist from the GPS Stand. When he can no longer flee, he asks for an alternative suggestion, so it calls a nearby taxicab and he asks the driver to shut the door, which cancels out Born This Way's attack.

He finally corners the user, which turns out to be the Higashikatas' maid, Kyo Nijimura. Before he can question her, she tosses a pen at him, and the cap falls off as it lands in his hands, which I guess is enough to count.

Born This Way appears right over top of Josuke, but this time he's close enough to the user to just punch her out with his own Stand, and that wraps up the fight. Josuke thinks she's acting on orders from Norisuke, but she's not.

Josuke then discovers she's got a star-shaped birthmark just like his own. Kyo threatens to kill him or die trying if he goes anywhere near Holly, and her desperation to protect Holly impresses Josuke enough that he agrees and promises to find another way.

Meanwhile, Yasuho sneaks back into the hospital and eavesdrops on Holly while the doctors examine her. Again, she's pretty friendly to the doctors but she plants her feet on the back of one of the nurses and seems to think she's a pair of shoes that don't fit right. The doctors are completely baffled by her condition, and they look at an MRI of her brain and it has big holes in it like someone cut pieces out. As Yasuho wonders what happened to Holly, we see her Stand take shape in her shadow.

Just to be clear, this is Paisley Park, and its the same Stand that helped Josuke through the GPS. Its ability is to guide her in the right direction, and it may have unconsciously helped her get to Holly (twice), but it's pretty cute how she used it to guide Josuke in the right direction without even knowing about it. D'awwwwwwwwwww.

Anyway, Paisley Park is probably in my Top Five favorite Stands. I like her blank face with the one eye. It's both charming and weird at the same time.

While I'm at it, here's Born This Way. The write-up says it targeted Josuke because the user must have touched him at some point, and now that we know it's Kyo's Stand, it's a safe bet she did this when she tried to take his hat back when he first arrived at the mansion.

Like I said, I like the design, but this is pretty much it for Kyo and Born This Way until the very tail end of the manga. Seems like a missed opportunity to me.

Back to Kyo and Josuke, she decides to trust him when she sees his star birthmark. See, everyone in her family had the same mark. She has it, and so does her mother Holly, and so did her brother Yoshikage Kira. She explains that she's trying to investigate the Higashikatas' secrets as well, which is why she infiltrated their home as a maid. When Josuke read the family tree in the upstairs study, Kyo noticed the bookmark had been moved later on, and concluded that Josuke was going to seek out Holly, so Kyo thought she needed to protect her mother.

But now that she's seen his birthmark, she understands what he is. To explain, she leads Josuke back to the spot where Yasuho first found him, and buries a lemon and a tangerine in the dirt.

Well, I already used this image, but like I said, it's a classic, so here it is again. Kyo digs up the fruit and cuts it open, and now some of the lemon flesh is inside the tangerines, and some of the tangerine flesh is inside the lemons.

This is a secret she discovered only a few days ago, but the Higashikatas have known about it for decades. There's something strange in this land that can combine things together, and she reasons that Kira and someone else got buried under the same dirt, and somehow they got their bodies recombined with each other just like the lemon and the tangerine.

This is why Yasuho's DNA test showed Kira's corpse and Josuke were genetically the same man. Both of them have the same blend of genes from two people. One ended up dead, with zero testicles, and a greater resemblance to Kira. The other is alive, has four testicles, and he looks more like... someone else.

Kyo knew Kira, and she also knew he had a Stand of his own. Like Josuke's Soft and Wet, it made bubbles, but they just exploded on contact with something. Kyo believes that the fusion that created Josuke affected the Stand as well, producing Soft and Wet.

Josuke is horrified by this revelation. He now knows what he is and how he came to be, and he sort of knows who he is, but only partially. Who was the guy Kira combined with? Kyo tells him that's what they need to find out next...

[fduplegacy]

one time Ken locked up Audrey without evidence

When she got free, first thing she did was mail a glitterbomb to his house. The wife was so happy her husband got mail that she drove to the office to deliver it personally.

It exploded all over his face. He walked out of the precinct to find Audrey sitting in a bench by the park, leaning back and hiding her face behind a coffee cup. He could tell she was smiling though.

They found no prints or evidence on the box. Even the glitter used on the bomb was not sold within the state. He couldn't do anything about it.

Adam took a picture of Ken's angry face and they hung it up on the livingroom.

"Red glitter does wonders for his 'stache" said Adam as he marveled upon the angry red expression on the photo.

"Good thing it's gonna stay there for months" replied Audrey with an uncharacteristic chirpness in her tone.

"Or years" Adam shrugged

"His rotting corpse will still have glitter on it when the time comes." she said with a smirk. Adam felt his heart skip. Her smiles were few and far between. But he was always the reason for them. He extended his arm to wrap around her shoulders. She allowed this.

"I must say... this was way better than killing him." Adam said in a relaxed tone as he leaned his head over hers.

"Let time take care of that. He's senile enough." Her stance relaxed under Adam. It always did, even if she didn't realize it.

"I do feel bad for the wife. She seems nice..."

"She didn't get caught on the crossfire. Besides, whe laughed as well... might send her cookies though... a peace offering?" She turned her head to meet his eyes.

"Deliver them in person. She won't trust packages for a while." He leaned down to nuzzle her face, then he bit the apple of her cheek, softly at first. Then she pushed him once the mark of his teeth was left on her skin.

"Serves her right. She fell for the Nigerian Prince mail more times than I can count." She said as she rubbed her cheek.

"She's old... cut her some slack." Adam said as he nuzzled her head again, an apology for the bite.

"I don't care. The sheriff will though. How come his wife is still dense enough to fall for that?" She let him hug her again, accepting the apology.

"Do better, Geraldine... how else can we face the town?" He said in a raspy tone, mocking Ken's voice.

"But what if the prince really does need our help? Maybe we'll get a medal for our troubles..." Audrey responded in a convincing old lady voice.

Adam laughed before hugging her tighter, squeezing her until she was squirming in his arms. He didn't even flinch at her struggle, and the more she fought, the harder he held her. He hummed and swayed them as he hugged her, and sisnt let go until she bit his arm hard enough to make him hiss.

"I have things to do." Audrey said in a stern tone as she walked away from him, not without running her hand over the new bite mark on his arm.

"Fine... but I'm not letting you off the hook." Adam said as he followed behind her.

"Didn't expect you to. Are you gonna help or no?" She said calmly as she began setting up the things she needed for that day's blog.

"What are you making?" He asked as he leaned on the counter, setting the things down as she passed them to him.

"Tomato soup and homemade bread... maybe mash potatoes too if I feel like it" She said as she pulled out pans and wooden spoons.

"Do I get to taste test?" He asked with a pleading grin.

"You get to cut the food. Then we eat when it's done." She replied, standing back up to stare at him. "You've seen it before, so why the question?"

"You never let me lick the spoon..." he said in a pouty tone.

"It's gross. And I do let you lick the spoon when I make desserts, not when it goes back on the pot."

"Fine. But you're making it up to me" he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Spoiled.." she said with a slow shake of her head, hiding the smallest of smiles. He noticed it anyway.

"Who's fault is it?"

"Mine, of course. I wouldn't expect otherwise."

[nikoadari]

A Stalker's Obsession

TW: Stalker, gross mindset, kind-of sexist homosexuality

Rajesh shouldered his four grocery bags, taking a deep breath of the slowly warming spring air. The scents of the marketplace; sweat and copper coins, fruits, dried meats, and wheat, mixed comfortably with the smell of the grass and fields of the countryside. The mountainous region’s ground was uneven and rocky, but he had traveled up the twisting, winding path to his home too often to falter.

The only sound, apart from a light breeze brushing past the odd small tree, was the occasional far-off hawk. Rajesh kept his gaze trained on the blue sky above until a disgruntled cough from below drew his attention.

Daria’s busy hands held only two grocery bags, but both were filled to the brim with white rice. It wasn’t a light load, especially for such a tiny girl, but her gaze kept straying to her elder brother’s bad shoulder, and his jokes that were meant to cheer her up only succeeded in making her scoff.

The siblings had argued for well over ten minutes over the weight of each bag and who should take what until Rajesh had simply taken all the least heavy bags and walked away, a dirty tactic in both their opinions that was nonetheless effective in ending the argument. It didn’t mean that Daria was happy about it.

“I’m fine, Daria,” he assured her after his fourth joke fell flat. She looked away from him, aware that he knew she was upset but not wanting to show it anyway.

“What, you don’t think your big brother can hold only four bags of groceries? You think some chickpeas, couscous, and orange juice can defeat me?”

He let out an exaggerated sniffle and wiped a fake tear from his eye. Daria rolled her eyes.

“I thought you knew me…” he squeaked comically. If the groceries hadn’t been holding most of his attention he would have draped himself over her.

Daria narrowed her eyes, trying hard to remain angry at his antics before giving up and sticking her tongue out at him instead. He laughed, and she moved her bags to the crook of her arms, signing that he’d “better not push himself or else.”

“Or else what?” he grinned. She scrunched up her nose in a scowl and he couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Or else I’ll tell Sita that your bad arm is acting up and that you’re ignoring it again,” she signed smugly. He gasped in mock horror.

“How could you?” he cried. “Selling me out to our brothers like that! Where did I go wrong in raising you, Daria?” he cried.

She pursed her lips for about ten seconds before letting out a loud snort and giggling. He sobbed drily again and she nearly choked. He kept it up until her laughter abruptly cut off. He stopped, realizing she was no longer walking beside him, and turned back to look.

Her expression was grim and she was glaring again, but this time more harshly, like she was watching an enemy. Rajesh turned his head to see what she was staring at felt his heart nearly seize.

“Daria,” he hissed. “Come here. Ignore him. Daria.” After a moment, she obeyed, and they quickly continued on their way back home. It was lucky that they were nearly there.

Marvin sighed dreamily. He admired his boyfriend’s broad shoulders and bare arms that shone in the sun. He had never seen another man so manly, yet so beautiful. Beautiful in the feminine sense, of course. The man’s waist was slim like a woman’s. Skin soft like a woman’s. As he walked his hips swung from side to side like a mesmerizing pendulum and Marvin dreamed often of the day he would finally be able to suck on those thighs.

Something knocked into his back and he stumbled forward, almost falling on his face. He caught himself just before he fell and whipped around angrily, shouting at the old hag who’d bumped into him. Her food was all over the fucking ground, too. Ungainly bitch. He turned away from the senile thing and cursed again. Rajesh was gone!

He jogged after them quickly, hoping to catch another glimpse before they reached their house. He couldn’t run full-speed or the bratty girl would call the police on him again. Every day he watched Rajesh care for her and all the other siblings in the house they had recently inherited from their late father.

It was a beautiful property, perfect for the family Marvin and Rajesh would have together one day! Marvin wished he could get the man of his dreams pregnant; what a lovely scene that would be. Two lovers and their baby, living  in a farmhouse…he sighed. Adoption would have to be the next best thing. They would love the child just as much, even if he wanted a baby from their DNA alone.

He could imagine playing with the little thing, something he and Rajesh made together. A legacy, proof of their love, something they alone could share. But as it was now, it was unlikely to happen.

Despite how good he was for Rajesh, and how good Rajesh would be for him, he just couldn't convince him of that. The object of his affection was the second eldest of the four siblings, but from what Marvin could see Rajesh took on most of the responsibility. They took advantage of him. It was so unfair! He was such a good big brother, but all of his siblings were spoiled brats.

Marvin’s ribs throbbed as he remembered the punch that bastard Hunar, the youngest brother, had landed the last time Marvin had tried to visit his prince. Hadn’t anyone ever taught him to respect his elders!?

Marvin had only wanted to visit his sweetheart and help him relax after a hard day! If he had had just a few more minutes to calm Rajesh down once he woke him up, their lives together would have finally begun properly. If Sita hadn’t thrown his crutches at him, if Daria hadn’t phoned the police, and if Hunar hadn’t started a fistfight with him, Marvin would have finally been able to care for his boyfriend like they never could!

He would have fucked that man into the bed, relieving him of the stress and tension of the day, comforting him and providing pleasure like Rajesh had never felt before! It was what his sweetheart deserved. It was what Marvin deserved. He cursed again.

They were jealous, that was all. And he hated that Rajesh couldn’t see that. He was always insisting on bringing them out with him whenever he did anything. It was gross, it was codependent, and if he could just get Rajesh alone for a secondhe could explain it to him.

Fuck. Of course they were already inside.

Marvin glared at the chickens milling around the house while he hid behind a few tall trees. Fucking animalswere allowed to get closer to his boyfriend’s house than he was! Yet another thing those brats did. He knew they talked shit to Rajesh about him. That was the reason they were fighting right now.

He slicked his greasy hair back before looking at his slick hand in disgust. Seriously? Sometimes he couldn’t believe himself. He had seriously planned to meet his hot as fuck boyfriend looking like a mess. He took a deep breath and adjusted himself in his pants. Even thinking about the man was enough to give him an erection these days.

Okay. He would go home, get cleaned up, and come back. Maybe he’d get his sweetheart a gift. Yes! Maybe a jewel. He could dip into his savings and get him a necklace or ring. Flowers, too – he was a true romantic, after all. Oh yes, and palak paneer! Rajesh’s favorite dinner. Perfect.

He would apologize – to Rajesh, not the brats – and show his darling that he still loved him dearly despite the immature silent treatment he was getting right now. Maybe they would have make-up sex. Fuck, after two months of Marvin outright pining for him, barely fighting back against those shits since he knew Rajesh loved them, and the absolute bullshit that was the restraining order it would be the least Rajesh could do.

But Marvin knew Rajesh would understand that. He knew everything about Rajesh. That’s why Marvin loved him. He knew Rajesh was a sweetheart with a sweet ass.

He rushed to his apartment and ran a hot shower. He took his time and got every crook and cranny. He hadn’t realized just how long it’d been since he’d had one. Shit. He hoped Rajesh hadn’t actually seen him like this.

He knew his boyfriend cared more about what was on the inside but, hey, Rajesh had already seen him at his worst, being put in handcuffs and shoved into a police car. Marvin wanted his darling to see him at his best.

[joezworld]

(sorry Bird Site cooties but bear with me)

allow me to be the first to congratulate you

Word of God confirms swears-like-a-sailor!Percy is REAL

Of course Percy swears like a sailor - could he be any other way?

(Fic below)

--

Every now and again, when more than one engine on Thomas’ branch line was placed ‘out of service’, the Fat Controller would be forced to draft in a replacement engine from the main line. Normally this engine would be James, or maybe Donald or Douglas, as they were small enough to fit through the tunnel near Hackenbeck without major clearance problems. However, on some occasions they would be unavailable, and a different engine would be called in.

“What?” Gordon asked the stationmaster in shock. “Surely you can’t be serious.”

“Aye, I am.” The man said. “Thomas is getting his tubes replaced, and now Daisy’s gone an’ holed her oil pan somehow, so you must go and help out.”

“But it’s beneath me! Make James do it.”

“James is taking Daisy to the works - they’re probably halfway to Kellsthorpe by now.”

“But-”

“No buts!” The man said firmly. “It’s already been decided; Bear will take the express, Henry will take his trains, and you’ll be back here before midnight.”

Gordon looked thunderous, but there was nothing he could do. He wheeshed angrily as his crew made him ready, and was angrier still when they coupled him up to a long string of empty wagons, but there was no point in fighting back.

Fortunately the trucks recognized Gordon’s bad mood, and were well-behaved all the way to the junction. After shunting them for Percy’s train, (“Tender engines do not-” “If you start that up again I’ll run you up the line tender-first, got it?”) he collected Thomas’s coaches and started up the line.

For what it was worth, Annie and Clarabel were most impressed with him, which lightened his mood somewhat.

“Oh it is gracious of you to come and help us.” Annie said.

“If I close my eyes, I could almost believe that I was on a main line service again!” Clarabel put in.

“Oh, it’s nothing; We all must do our part to keep the railway running!” He said grandly, ignoring his crew’s laughter.

They progressed slowly up the line, stopping at every station and even a few lineside farm houses to pick up and drop off passengers. It was almost infuriatingly pastoral, especially when they were delayed for almost ten minutes by a flock of sheep that were being herded from one side of the line to another, but the slow pace seemed to suit almost everyone else - the passengers on the express would have made quite a fuss at the train’s slow pace, but everyone was unusually understanding when they had to slow down to a crawl to make sure Gordon could clear the Hackenbeck tunnel.

Emerging from the other side, they made a quick stop at Hackenbeck before reaching the end of the line at Ffarquhar. Once the passengers had disembarked, Gordon shunted them away (the indignities he suffered for this railway...) and was parked underneath the water tower for a drink.

It was a sunny and slow day, so his drink quickly turned into a nap, and he was eventually woken up by the sound of Toby laughing.

“I’m amazed he made it through the tunnel!” The tram engine was saying to another engine - a black diesel, what was her name? Maude? Maeve? Maria? Something like that - as they shunted away some stone wagons. “Oh look, he’s awake - hello Gordon, fancy seeing you here!”

“Indeed,” He said pompously. “I hope you don’t take offense when I say that I am not here by choice.”

More laughter. “I can see that - you should be glad that Thomas isn’t here, I can’t imagine how funny he’d find this.”

Gordon looked around - the entire depot was sized for tank engines and their ilk. He probably looked like Gulliver in Lilliput, and less educated minds would probably go straight to infantile jokes. Fortunately Toby seemed to be of more mature stock. “One can only imagine.”

While Toby had been talking, the diesel reversed out of a siding. “So, how long do you think it will take for him to find them?” She asked mischievously.

“Not too long.” Toby said, eying the siding. “You’d better hurry.”

Gordon rolled his eyes and tuned them out. Maybe Toby was merely smart enough to not act in such ways around his betters and he was actually just as infantile as Thomas and-

Peep Peep!

A whistle sounded in the distance, heralding the arrival of another infantile tank engine. The diesel jumped at the sound and scuttled out of the yard, a few wagons trailing behind her.

Percy quickly appeared, a line of tankers and vans trailing behind him. He seemed to be in a poor mood already, clearly not able to intimidate the trucks as Gordon could, but his mood turned even fouler as he entered the yard.

“Toby,” He said, his voice trembling with anger. “Where did she put them?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know,” Toby replied, the picture of innocence. “After all, I am just a ‘senile old cube’, so what would I know?”

“Oh, is that what this is about!?” Percy was on the verge of angry hysterics. “It’s not enough that she comes into my yard and fucks around with my trucks, but you’re going to help her? You were supposed to fucking teach her!”

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

“Every day I come in and put the yard to my liking, and every pissing day that bleeding disaster of a locomotive comes in here and my yard look a minger! And you bloody well encourage it, you meddling piece of geometry!”

“I’m sure if you asked Mavis where your brake vans were, she’d tell you.”

“How did you know I was looking for my brake vans?”

“Ah. Well, you see…” Toby started slowly backing away towards the main line.

“YOU WERE INVOLVED IN THIS! WHERE ARE THEY?”

“Well would you lookatthetimeIsurelymustbeneededatHackenbeckGoodbye!” Toby’s driver increased his speed as they reached the end of the yard tracks. Within a few moments Toby was speeding backwards down the line towards the junction.

Percy swore heavily at the retreating tram before he resigned himself to shunting. Gordon was petrified, and let off steam without realizing it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Percy snapped once he saw Gordon. “Actually, I don’t care - just keep your trap shut or I’ll make you regret it, savvy?”

Gordon did that and more, and said nothing to anyone until he was back at the junction.

“I do apologize about Percy.” Clarabel sighed as he was uncoupled from her. “He doesn’t mean it most of the time, it’s just that Mavis enjoys-”

“And Toby.” Annie put in.

“Yes. And Toby. And Thomas. And Daisy for that matter.” The coach said thoughtfully. “But anyways, they enjoy winding him up, but they’re all still very close to each other.”

Gordon took yet another slow goods train back to Tidmouth, and true to the station master’s word, he was back in the big sheds before midnight.

Henry and Bear looked most surprised to see him, but he paid that no mind. “Do either of you think,” He said slowly. “That there are things on this Island that we are totally unaware of?”

“Yes.” The other engines said in unison.

Gordon didn’t know what to make of that!

[agoldengalaxy]

Fun, Indeed

read on Ao3

“Every time I begin to think you actually have a brain in that head of yours,” he sighed, placing a hand on the small of Mobius’ back, guiding him to walk down the beach a little. “That...is why we are here.” He gestured to a small dock, to the place where it met the sand. An old man sat in a folding chair, a hat covering his face, and at the end of the dock was a striking, brightly painted red jet ski.

Mobius blinked a couple of times, attempting to process the information. “So let me get this straight,” he said, unable to look away from it, “you brought me to 2036 to steal some poor man’s jet ski?”

--

“Mobius. Oh, come on. Wake up.”

Somewhere in his subconscious, the TVA agent could recognize that annoying, hushed voice anywhere. He groaned, burrowing further into his pillow. And then something soft hit him in the face. He had a feeling that the God of Mischief wasn’t planning on leaving him alone anytime soon, so he groaned again. “What d’ya want, Loki?” he mumbled, opening one eye as whatever had hit him before was lifted from his face.

Loki stood over his bed, a huge grin on his face, still holding a pillow with the letters ‘TVA’ inscribed across it. “I want to show you something.”

Sighing, Mobius rolled onto his back, running a hand over his face. “And it was so urgent that you had to wake me up for it?” The TVA didn’t allow much time for rest; he supposed he should have expected his rest would be cut short by the man he was so often in charge of babysitting.

Not unlike a child, the other frowned, tossing the pillow onto his chest. “Yes. It has to be now. Come on, I don’t want your colleagues to be on my back again.”

“What did you do?” It was his first thought, and he didn’t feel the need to keep it to himself as he begrudgingly pushed himself to sit up, throwing the pillow back at him. “And how did you get in my room?” He was surprised, but then again, should he have been? Even without magic, Loki always found a way. Sometimes it was a good thing, and other times it was just aggravating. And yet, more often than not, it was endearing all the same.

“I beg your pardon, Mobius. You ought to have more faith in me. I didn’t ‘do’ anything.” Feigning hurt, Loki huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. The way his eyebrows knit together was a common expression these days, and yet Mobius found himself still unable to look away. It was replaced with a sly grin. To answer your second question, you left your door unlocked. Perhaps you are going senile.”

Mobius groaned, putting his face in his hands. “Don’t talk to me about getting old. You’re thousands of years old. I’m only fifty.”

“And that’s half of a mortal’s lifespan. Your point?”

Getting to his feet, Mobius waved a hand dismissively, then crossed his arms over his chest. “Alright, wise guy. You woke me up, so I’m the one asking questions. What is it you wanted to show me?”

Loki, seemingly pleased that Mobius had finally gotten out of bed, grinned and headed toward the door. “Look, we don’t have much time. You know how we can do anything we want, anything at all, and it’s of no consequence so long as a natural disaster occurs?”

“Right…” He already felt wary, not liking the excitement Loki was expressing as they left the room.

“I know you just hate breaking the rules, but I think you’ll want to make an exception this time.” Now Mobius really didn’t like the sound of that, but he also knew that whether or not he followed, Loki was probably going to keep going - or come back to drag him to wherever he was going. “Just trust me.”

Mobius couldn’t help but laugh at that. Whether it was sarcastic or not, though, he couldn’t tell. “Trust you? That’s funny.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a smirk tug at the corner of Loki’s lips. “Come now, Mobius, after all we’ve been through together? I’m trying to do something kind for once.”

And he couldn’t help but smile, too, though he hid it by ducking his head a little. “That doesn’t exactly reassure me, you know. Your version of ‘kind’ is different from most.” They reached a shimmering door, presumably left open by Loki when he’d come to wake Mobius. Loki didn’t bother waiting, just smiling a little more as he stepped through the doorway, leaving Mobius no choice but to follow him.

His shoes began sinking, and he looked down in surprise to find sand beneath him, sparkling in the sun. Brows furrowed, the sound of crashing waves surrounded him, and looking up confirmed it. The ocean’s waves weren’t very big, and the sun shone a light orange, dipping toward the horizon, bathing the beach in a warm glow. The beach was only home to a couple of people at the moment, and Mobius frowned as his eyes scanned the beach. “Is this…?”

“Japan, 2036,” Loki finished his thought, glancing down at the TVA bracelet around his wrist. “And if I’m correct, in about an hour, there will be a tsunami that will wipe out this town.” He let his arm return to his side then, looking over at Mobius, barely containing a grin.

The agent sighed, still unsure of where he was going with this. “...Okay. And why are we here, Loki?”

“Every time I begin to think you actually have a brain in that head of yours,” he sighed, placing a hand on the small of Mobius’ back, guiding him to walk down the beach a little. “That...is why we are here.” He gestured to a small dock, to the place where it met the sand. An old man sat in a folding chair, a hat covering his face, and at the end of the dock was a striking, brightly painted red jet ski.

Mobius blinked a couple of times, attempting to process the information. “So let me get this straight,” he said, unable to look away from it, “you brought me to 2036 to steal some poor man’s jet ski?”

Loki rolled his eyes, taking him by the shoulders to make him look at him instead. “Oh come now, Mobius. You’ve always wanted to, haven’t you? Remember, none of this matters! They’re all going to die anyway, you can afford to have some fun without the TVA breathing down your back.” He leaned back, smirking as he folded his arms over his chest. “Or do you not know how?”

Putting aside the fact that every instinct in his body told him to say no, to drag Loki back to the TVA and continue with his work, one thing stuck out to him. Loki remembered. Loki remembered how much he admired jet skis, how he had never been on one but loved how they looked. And...no one had ever done anything so kind for him before. He never would have expected it from the God of Mischief.

Before he knew it, he was smiling a little, and he had to look away, feeling a blush creep up his neck. “Alright, alright. Jeez. Only for a little while.” While Loki grinned, Mobius turned and began walking toward the dock, shrugging off his blazer. His heart pounded, though he wasn’t quite certain if it was due to the thrill of doing something wrong, or something else entirely. He was careful to be quiet as he walked past the owner of the jet ski, who didn’t move at all as they passed by.

“Oh dear. Is he dead already?” Loki whispered, and Mobius laughed, hitting his arm.

“Shut up.” Leaving the blazer and his shoes on the dock, pants cuffed below the knee, he climbed aboard the jet ski, admiring the details. Loki stood on the dock, looking down at him, smiling, genuinely. Mobius raised a brow. “Are you coming?”

The smile faltered for a moment, replaced with slight amused confusion. “You want me to come with you?”

Mobius almost burst out laughing, but he settled on an eye roll instead. “Every time I begin to think you actually have a brain in that head of yours,” he teased, mocking him. “C’mon, Loki. You brought me here. Don’t tell me you’re scared now.”

“What, me? Absolutely not,” Loki scoffed, but Mobius didn’t miss the smile that returned as he shrugged off his own jacket, stepping down to sit behind him. Mobius did his best to ignore just how close he was as he started the engine, untying the rope.

Excitement buzzed through him, making it easy to focus on the water rather than the man behind him. “Alright. Here we go!” Revving the engine, he took a deep breath, grinning, and hit the gas. He started out slow, but as he moved past the larger waves, he increased the speed. Loki’s arms came around to embrace him, holding onto him tightly, keeping him from falling off.

“I suppose you do know how to have fun, after all!”

Mobius was pretty sure his heart stopped for a moment, and so he focused on driving, on the wind that whipped at his hair, the cold water splashing up against his legs. “Of course I do!” He could barely hear Loki, but he felt the way his chest rumbled against his back as he laughed. And Mobius couldn’t help but laugh, too.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so alive.

There was no telling how much time had really passed, but as clouds began setting in, Mobius slowed down, directing the jet ski toward the dock again. His cheeks hurt from smiling, he was out of breath, and he could feel Loki’s breath on the back of his neck, too. As he tied the jet ski up again, Loki slowly removed his arms from around his torso, getting up onto the dock carefully. When he turned around, he was grinning.

“See? Causing trouble isn’t so bad, is it?” He offered Mobius a hand, and he hesitantly took it, letting Loki pull him up onto the dock. The God’s dark hair was windswept, and his eyes were bright. Mobius’ heart lurched as they both knelt on the wood, inches from each other. He swallowed and opened his mouth to respond when he was suddenly shoved, pushed off of the dock with a small yelp. The water engulfed him, colder than he was expecting, and he pulled himself to the surface with a gasp, only to hear Loki laughing loudly. “Oh! You should have seen your face!”

Mobius frowned, up at him as he tread water, shaking his head. “I thought you wanted to have fun. This is not fun.”

At that, Loki grinned, kneeling down to reach for him again. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m having lots of fun.” Frowning, Mobius reached up for Loki’s hand - and in a brief moment, barely without thinking, he pulled Loki into the water beside him. Shock was the last thing etched upon his face before the splash took him downward, letting go of the other’s hand. A moment passed, and he surfaced again, pushing wet hair out of his eyes with an annoyed frown.

“And now I’m having fun,” Mobius said smugly, and Loki blew out a long breath.

“Hmph. I suppose I deserved that.”

“Yes. Yes you did.”

They knew not to stay too much longer. After all, the last thing they needed was to be caught in the tsunami, so they both swam over to the sand. Crawling onto land again, Mobius let out a long sigh, flopping onto his back for a moment. Loki did the same, not too far away from him, so they could both catch their breath.

The sand was warm on his back, which was appreciated after the cool of the water. He stared at the cloudy sky for a moment, then glanced at Loki, whose chest was rising and falling steadily now. “Hey.”

“What is it?” Loki turned his head to meet his gaze, raising a brow.

“...Thank you. For this.” He didn’t miss the surprise on Loki’s face, but he turned his head to look back up at the sky, suddenly unable to really look at him. “I’ve never really had any time for myself before. The TVA doesn’t leave much time for leisure. This is…” he chuckled. “This is probably the most fun I’ve ever had.”

There was quiet for a moment, and he was aware of Loki staring at him, so he pressed his lips together, turning to look at him. The other’s eyes were soft, and he was smiling a little. “Well, I am the God of Mischief, after all.” A beat. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

They stared at each other for a moment, Mobius’ heart beating hard in his chest. For a moment, he wondered if Loki had somehow put a spell on him. Suddenly, Loki propped himself up on an elbow, hovering right above the agent. Mobius was paralyzed.

Before he knew it, his face was being held by calloused hands, rough lips pressed against his own. He tensed, every inch of his body going rigid, because Loki Laufeyson was kissing him. After a moment, though, he realized he had two options; push him away, or kiss back. And...the choice was clear.

Closing his eyes, he reached up, placing his arms around his neck, and kissed back. He could feel Loki smile a little. It wasn’t exactly gentle, but it wasn’t too rough. It was perfect. It wasn’t unlike stories Mobius had read a long time ago, of fairy tales that were meant for children.

They probably could have stayed there all day if it weren’t for a large wave that crashed nearby, spraying them yet again with cold water. Loki pulled away, looking down at Mobius with a grin, water droplets dripping from his hair. “Fun indeed,” he purred, making Mobius turn bright red. Loki stood up, dusting himself off, and green engulfed him for just a split second, drying him completely. He turned to Mobius, who was still lying dazedly in the sand, and flicked a hand, using magic to dry his clothes, too. With that, he bent down, taking his hand, and pulled him to his feet. “We can’t stay here. Perhaps we ought to finish this somewhere else.”

People were running now. The tsunami was certainly on its way. Loki didn’t let go of his hand, and Mobius struggled to articulate, a dumb grin on his face. He couldn’t believe this. “Y-Yeah. Yeah. Perhaps we should.”

Laughing lowly, Loki opened a portal back to the TVA, and together, they headed back to Mobius’ room for the fun to continue.

[lillian-nator]

Hola, Bridge anon is back and making a place maker 👾

Based off of the song “Where is My Mind?” by The Pixies 

"Ooh, stop."

Tommy felt like his whole world was at a pause.

He felt euphoric.

As the wind rushed around him, he felt his hair get pushed the the side, making the blonde mop atop his head messier than it had been previously. A content smile playing on his face as he closed his eyes and just felt.

Tommy felt as though he could feel the world around him. He laid atop the abandoned bridge, his back against the rough and cool wood. His head pounding softly from when he hit it on the same wood earlier tonight. He heard the water rushing below, the pond moving an awful lot for a dead part of the city. His feet could still feel the tickle of the grass beneath them from the meadow below.  The sun - just rising at this time of the morning (around 5 am) - it's soft rays licking at Tommy's arms thrown to his sides, warming him up in a blissful moment.

The screams and laughs of his friends brought an odd sense of comfort to Tommy that he wasn't sure was possible.

"Yeah get him Purp!" Punz screamed as Purpled picked up Tubbo and threw the brunette over his shoulder.

There were more laughs and yells and loud banter in the background, but all Tommy could focus on was the world around him.

"With your feet on the air and your head on the ground"

Tommy sat up, taking in the sunrise around him.

He had always been a huge fan of sunsets, the way that the pinks-purples-and-oranges danced around each other, and the sun slowly fading from sight - Tommy found it beautiful. But this, he had never seen the sunrise before, always too early. Tommy was usually a late sleeper, but this didn't count since he hadn't gone to sleep yet. Thinking about his bed, his eyes drooped a bit, but he quickly rubbed the sleep out of them. He had to remember this forever.

His legs dangled over the bridge, something that had to be dangerous, but it never registered in his mind.

"Quackity, stop walking along the edge! You're gonna kill yourself!" George screeched, wheezing.

"Chill out old man. You're getting senile, decrepit. I'm fine -" Quackity screamed running over towards the middle of the bridge, after almost falling, ensuing giggles from those around him. "I'm good."

Tommy was so fucking happy.

“Try this trick and spin it, yeah”

Tommy felt a presence sit beside him. An arm went around his shoulders.

He smelt the familiar oak-scent of his friend’s body wash. 

A hand ruffled his hair, Tommy breathily laughed. 

“Hey - you okay?” 

Tommy leaned further into Dream’s arm. “Yeah,” He sighs, “Just taking everything in.” 

Dream felt the blonde’s forehead, “You sick?” He laughed. “Are you high Thomas? Did you steal Q’s pot?”

Tommy laughed, and pushed Dream off of him, careful of the fact that their legs were dangling over a 50ft drop. “What?” He wheezed, “Why would you think I’m high? And I’m not. I don’t think Big Q brought any.” 

“Me neither,” Dream agrees lightly. “Thank God. He is already trying to kill himself walking over the edge.” 

Dream pushed Tommy back, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this calm.” 

“I like sunsets. I watch them on my roof all the time.” He grinned, “I’m also really fucking tired.” 

“Your head will collapse”

“Bet you won’t jump into the lake.” Tommy heard Ponk say.

He whipped his head around to watch Ponk and SapNap’s conversation. 

“Bet.” 

Tommy’s eyes glistened with a new found energy. Slowly standing up, mindful of the edge, walking over to where SapNap was stood. Tommy stood next to Tubbo and Purpled putting his arms around their shoulders, and breathing in the combined scents of their shampoo. 

He felt like he could feel the world around him again. 

“If SapNap doesn’t die, are you gonna jump?” Tubbo asked looking up at the blonde. 

“Course Tubbo. You know me.” His face brightened at the thought of the adrenaline rush. “I’ll jump whether or not he dies.” 

Tubbo laughed pushing him slightly. 

“Yeah,” The boy breathed, “I know.” 

“But there's nothing in it” 

SapNap backed up, going to the left side of the bridge while Dream, George, Ponk, and Punz were on the right side looking towards the water to make sure SapNap didn’t fucking die. Tommy, Tubbo, Purpled, Karl, and Quackity were scattered in the middle of the bridge, watching the whole scene unfold. 

“3″ Dream shouted. 

“2″ Tommy, Karl, Quackity, and Punz joined in. 

“1″ Everyone, including SapNap shouted, as the brunette ran forward, with the momentum of a true varsity offensive tackler. 

He jumped, the wind flying through his hair, legs bawled into the center of his chest, smile playing fondly on his face. 

SapNap let out a loud “whoop” of excitement. As he fell down into the water. 

Splash. 

“And you'll ask yourself”

“SapNap didn’t die!” Dream shouted. 

Everyone let out loud cheers of excitement as Tommy threw his hands in the air, Purpled and Tubbo finally escaping his grasps. 

“Who’s next?” Karl offered, while looking directly at Tommy. 

Tommy moved backwards, careful not to step over the age, looking at all 8 other boys atop the bridge. 

“Oh, you know it’s me, Big Man.” 

He jumped up and down, readying himself for the jump. 

“Where is my mind?”

“3″ Dream started again. 

Tommy felt the adrenaline rush through his body. 

“2″ Tubbo and Purpled joined in. 

He shook off the rest of his nerves, getting in a running stance. 

“1″ All 8 of the boys shouted, Tommy too excited to speak. 

Tommy ran. 

He jumped. 

“Where is my mind?”

He let out a loud yell mid-air. 

He laughed hard, and wanted to cry out of joy. This. This is it.

This is fucking euphoria. 

The wind rushed through his hair, and woke him up, and hit him on his face. Tommy had never felt so fucking free. 

He did a couple of flips when he realized that he was far enough away from the water. The feeling in his stomach wouldn’t go away - and he would pay for every extra second he could feel it. 

“I’m a fucking bird!” Tommy yelled right as he was about to crash into the water. 

“Where is my mind?”

It was all blue. Blue was everywhere. 

It was a nice blue too. A clear blue. A light turquoise color. 

Tommy wanted to stay in this blue forever. 

He started to swim up. 

He was met with oranges and pinks of the sunrise. This was okay too. 

“Way out in the water”

Suddenly there were cheers from above him. 

Oh right. They wanted to make sure he didn’t fucking die.

He felt SapNap wrap his arms around Tommy’s shoulders bringing him down into the water. Tommy laughed so hard that he almost choked on the water. 

Soon enough he felt Purpled jump in and Karl jump in, and Punz, and Tubbo, and Dream - 

He felt the happiest he had been in years. 

“See it swimmin'"

As Tommy crawled through his window at 6 am, hair dripping, and clothes soaking wet, a broad grin was spread across his face. 

He quickly grabbed the first sweatshirt he found, smelling it, he briefly recognized it as Tubbo’s - but he didn’t care. He quickly stripped, throwing on a pair of black sweatpants, and Tubbo’s red sweatshirt, that was far too big on the brunette, but fit perfectly on the blonde. 

He carefully laid atop his bed, muscles still sore from the nights activities.

He looked at his ceiling, trying to close his eyes, and hopefully sleep for 4 or 5 hours, nobody would expect Tommy to be awake until 11 or noon anyways, but he couldn’t find it in himself to fall asleep. The same scene of the ocean below him playing over and over again. 

He felt like he was fucking high - and he hadn’t even been on any drugs. 

Is this what heaven felt like? 

As he heard Phil’s alarm go off a few rooms over, he tiredly rubbed his eyes that refused to close. 

It was going to be a long day - but Tommy wouldn’t trade his experience for anything in the world. 

.

[Yeah, I’ll probably put this on ao3, I won’t lie.]

[wallgirl]

The Little Nereid Part One

3200 words, part one of a five part fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate... and painful.

Categories: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending; no NSFW content

---

The incessant cry of seagulls encircling the rocky bluffs below finally woke her. She exhaled reluctantly, tugging the blanket closer to her chest. They were especially loud this morning; perhaps a school of fish had washed up on shore. She was surprised that she didn’t hear Thoe shouting at them in a vain attempt to get them to scatter. Thoe had always hated seagulls, and a millennium of living beside the ocean had done nothing to calm her ire. She rolled away from the bright light entering from the window and drowsily pondered how she would spend the day. If the weather held up, perhaps she would go for a run along the shoreline.

               Then realization hit her, and she sat up, fully awake. Of course, she had plans for the day – it was her birthday!

---

               And not just any birthday, but her coming-of-age celebration. From today on, she would officially be a woman in the eyes of society; no longer a mere girl, despite her thin build and wide eyes.

               She jumped out of bed and undid her rumpled chiton, tossing it haphazardly onto the marble floor as she ran to her dresser. She hurriedly sought through the drawer before pulling out one of her nicer peplos with gold embroidery, then turned to the next drawer in search of a clean chiton.

               “Dynamene! Are you up?” A loud voice echoed from the other side of the bedroom door.

               “Yes! Yes, I’m awake!” Dynamene called back, hastily slamming the drawers closed and turning to the full-length mirror across from her bed.

               “May I come in?” Without waiting for a response, the door opened and a tall maiden with her auburn hair drawn into a long braid entered.

               “Help me fasten my peplos, Actaea,” Dynamene muttered, tugging the fabric around her body.

               “I suppose…” Actaea sighed dramatically. She stepped behind Dynamene and began to gather the cloth expertly. “You know, I’m glad I caught you while you were getting dressed. I have the perfect pins for you to use today.” With a smile, she produced two golden pins with mother-of-pearl heads.

Dynamene broke into a wide beam at the sight of her gifts, her freckled cheeks dimpling in delight. “Thank you, Actaea. They’re beautiful.”

“Aren’t they? I sent for them a few weeks ago. I know you’ve wanted pins with mother-of-pearl for a while.”

“I have, it’s my favorite.” Dynamene admired her reflection shamelessly as Actaea finished positioning the pins, now holding her chiton together at the shoulders.

“I know. What older sister would I be if I didn’t know your favorite stone?” Actaea teased her with a tug on her hair.

Dynamene swatted at her playfully. “Mother-of-pearl isn’t a stone, silly!”

Actaea laughed and took hold of her hand. “Come along, birthday girl. Our sisters have set up breakfast down at the beach.”

Dynamene laughed back with excitement and allowed her older sister to rush her along the pristine white halls of the palace. Exquisite white marble reflected the sunlight entering from the tall windows, making for a heavenly vision when combined with the sight of the ocean gently churning against the rocky bluffs and sandy beaches below. They burst out of the palace’s bottom story entrance onto a vast deck. Across, carved between the rock that crowded up along the bottom of the palace, was a large staircase leading down to the beach. Well, perhaps staircase was too generous; all 150 of the steps were weathered from years of use by the Nereids running back and forth from the palace to the ocean, and tender weeds had begun to billow gently along the cracks. But the Nereids – that is, Dynamene and her older sisters – preferred the well-loved look.

The master of the palace was guaranteed to have a different opinion, but as he never used the staircase, the point was moot.

The stairs ended in soft, peach-hued sands that gave way beneath the sisters’ feet. Further down, along a cluster of rocks that jutted out into the cerulean waters, two banquet tables had been set up. They were well-laden with fresh fruit, wine, honey cakes, and just-roasted fish.

“Dynamene!” The first of her sisters to spot her yelled out. “Happy birthday, Dynamene!” The rest of her sisters, all forty-nine of them, quickly gathered to greet her. A merry chorus of “Happy birthday!” rang out for a full minute before they led her to her place of honor at the head of one of the tables.

“Happy birthday, baby Dynamene,” the last of her sisters called from where she was perched on top of the boulder closest to the tables. Good-natured Eione, with her sunbaked red hair and perpetually sandy legs, rose her glass. “To you!”

“To baby Dynamene!” The rest of the sisters called back, raising their glasses in a toast.

Blushing from the attention, Dynamene rose her glass to toast them back before sipping at the wine. It was remarkably sweet; no doubt sourced from one of the finest casks in the palace.

“Ah, but it is a sad day, too,” Actaea sighed dramatically. “The youngest of us has finally come-of-age; and now we have nothing to look forward to but senility.”

“Get out,” scoffed Ianeira, the eldest of the fifty. She waved her hand as if to swat away Actaea’s words. “Nereids don’t worry about getting old. As the pure-blooded daughters of two water gods, the day we see a gray hair will never come.”

“Why aren’t we gods, anyways,” another sister grumbled.

“I am glad enough to be a sea nymph,” Eione called, stretching her arms. “We are still leagues above mortals, and we don’t have any pesky rules or civil struggles to worry about. Let the other gods have their fun.”

“I agree,” nodded Ianeira. “We’ve seen every sort of trouble that can come from being a god, just by living here.”

Dynamene started at the mention of their master. “Ah, yes… Lord Poseidon. He’s due to come home this afternoon, isn’t he?”

“Yes, so we must make sure our duties are finished before he arrives. But there will be plenty of time afterwards to continue to celebrate your special day,” Actaea leaned over to ruffle Dynamene’s hair.

Dynamene smiled. “Perhaps it’s uncouth to ask, but… I wonder if I can expect a gift from him?” she murmured back lowly.

“Of course you can!” Eione shouted back, and Dynamene gaped at her. Truly, nothing escaped her ears. “Whose birthday was it last? They got a gift. Master Poseidon always gives us something for our birthday; a token of his appreciation, right?”

“Are you hoping for anything in particular?” Actaea asked. “Perhaps a whole island to yourself? Half of the treasure room?”

“No!” Dynamene laughed, swatting her older sister on the arm. “I…” She paused. “I will be happy with anything Lord Poseidon chooses to bestow me with.”

“Ask him to bestow you a new hair comb, then,” a sister snided from behind her. With a careless touch, Thoe ran her hand along Dynamene’s dark hair. “We should be heading back to the palace soon. I’ll fix your hair for you, Dyna. My birthday gift will be one of hair oil and the removal of split-ends.”

And so, all too soon, breakfast was over, and the sisters began their ascent back to the palace to attend to their chores. Once Thoe had sculpted Dynamene’s hair into what she deemed a more acceptable state, the two joined their sisters in cleaning the palace’s vast floors. Half of the sisters made the journey back and forth from the palace to the beach, lugging water in mighty jugs to throw across the marble floors. The other sisters used their innate gifts as sea nymphs to manipulate the water back and forth across the floor’s surface in gentle waves, gathering up the dust and dirt and sending it flowing into grated vents along the bottom of the walls. A system of pipes beneath the palace carried the water back down to the ocean, in a convenient and simple cycle.

Once the floors had been cleaned, the sisters broke up further into singles and pairs, airing out linens and shaking out rugs in every furnished room. Dynamene remained with Thoe as they methodically went through each bedroom and made the beds. Today, Thoe’s abrasive nature did little to draw Dynamene out of her thoughts. She was lost in pondering what Poseidon might give her for her birthday. It was never anything grand, but that was hardly surprising; Poseidon was no sentimental man and being able to live and serve in his palace was gift enough to begin with. But for every Nereid’s birthday, he still remembered to give them something as a token of appreciation. A simple formality. And yet… Dynamene’s heartbeat quickened. She racked her memory; what had he gifted her her last birthday? It had been a while, truth be told. The Nereids only celebrated their birthdays every hundred years. There were so many of them, and they aged so slowly, that celebrating every year seemed like a burden; not to mention that several of them shared a birth month and day.

But now Dynamene’s day had arrived, and she was the last of her sisters to reach womanhood. It was her first official birthday since she had experienced menarche several decades ago. She was quite a bit taller, though still slender in body and round in her cheeks, then she was when she had arrived at Poseidon’s palace with her sisters. Had it really been a thousand years since then? She closed her eyes briefly, reliving the emotions she had felt as a young girl seeing the palace, and its master, for the first time.

Upon their arrival, every sister had greeted Poseidon formally, stating their name with a curtsy, oldest to youngest. Dynamene had never met Poseidon before that day and had no idea what to expect of the man that would become her master. When it was finally her turn, as the youngest of the sisters, to greet him, her heart had nearly stopped.

He had towered over her, a statuesque man measuring over six feet in height, with unfeeling blue eyes and an expression carved of stone. He struck an intimidating figure, even from where he sat upon his throne, and little Dynamene’s heart had jumped to her throat in fear.

But then he had shifted ever so slightly in his seat, just a simple tilt of his head and curl of his hand. The lock of hair that threatened to fall into his eyes caught the firelight just so, and his gray gaze rose to scrutinize her face. It was then that little Dynamene no longer saw a heartless stone statue, but a god; a magnificent, handsome man, with all the power of the oceans at his beck-and-call, who made every other lesser being tremble from his footsteps.

At that moment, she no longer feared him, even as a young girl before an unimaginably powerful stranger. No, not entirely.

She was in awe of him.

“Dynamene!” Thoe’s sharp call brought her back to her senses. “Ianeira is calling for you.”

“Ah, yes,” Dynamene quickly replied, her face flushing. “I’m going.”

Down the end of the hall, the eldest sister waited for her. “There you are. We’re almost done; all that’s left is the lighting of the fire in Lord Poseidon’s quarters. As it’s your special day, I thought you might like the honor.”

Dynamene’s mouth ran dry. “The honor?! But… it’s nothing I haven’t done before.”

“Well, perhaps, if you’re lucky, he’ll arrive as you’re taking care of it. Then he’ll be able to give you your birthday gift straight-away, yes?”

Dynamene nearly choked on her breath. “I… I don’t know if Lord Poseidon would even hand me it himself. He’s always had it brought to our room by the other servants, or the delivery person. I don’t think he would personally-”

“Enough excuses,” Ianeira shooed her. “Hurry, it’s nearly lunchtime.”

With no other choice, Dynamene began the ascent through the palace towards Poseidon’s quarters. Her steps were rather reluctant, and she twisted the fabric of her peplos incessantly. Even his rooms without him in it were intimidating, full of heavy energy without a single fabric fold out of place. Of course, they were so pristine because the Nereids cleaned and organized them with care, especially when Poseidon was away on business, but every surface was kept eternally spotless to the point that it felt almost oppressive.

All too soon, she had reached the top of the final staircase leading to his quarters. Pushing through the heavy, ornate mahogany doors that were twice her height, she silently entered the sitting room. Poseidon’s personal suite consisted of a sitting room, his bedroom, and his private bathroom. Perhaps it seemed sparse compared to the living quarters of other gods, but Poseidon hated frivolity. The simple rooms suited him well.

That was not to say that they weren’t furnished with the finest furniture and materials available. The great fireplace that loomed across from her had intricate reliefs carved into its marble, recreating important moments from the Greek pantheon’s history. Dynamene brushed her fingertips tenderly against an image of a young Poseidon, freshly freed alongside his siblings from the stomach of their father, Cronus. She marveled at the detail, almost too fine to clearly see with the naked eye. Hephaestus himself had carved the images as a house-warming gift to Poseidon, his skill evident as Dynamene stared in wonder at the stone Poseidon’s face. If she squinted, she could almost make out the individual lashes of his eyes.

Without warning, the mighty doors behind her swung open, and she spun around, back pressed against the wall.

A towering figure stepped inside, allowing the doors to creak shut behind him. The faint light that crept in from the windows in the adjoining rooms gently illuminated the man’s pale face and bare chest. He moved forward, steps slow and deliberate. The dim gray light pulled along the edges of his figure to reveal a solemn face and fair, windswept hair.

“Lord Poseidon,” Dynamene breathed, immediately dropping into a curtsy. She stared at the floor, listening to her own heartbeat become a rapid pounding in her ears. She had been caught dallying in his quarters, and she hadn’t even lit the fire yet.

But his expression changed naught as he took in the sight of the dark fireplace. His eyes slewed left towards it, then back near Dynamene. “You have yet to light the fire.”

Dynamene could barely make out her own voice over the roar of blood in her ears. “Yes, my lord. Please accept my deepest apologies; I have no excuse for shirking my duties.”

He said nothing in reply, but crossed the room to drop a scroll atop his bedside table. Her face burning, Dynamene spun back towards the fireplace and dropped to her knees, quickly attending to the hearth. As the flames began to roar to life, she heard his calm voice once more.

“Come here,” he said. Her hands began to shake, and she slowly righted herself before crossing the room to stand before him on lead-filled legs.

He stared down at her. No, not at her, but somewhere near her. He never looked anyone in the eyes, and Dynamene certainly didn’t expect him to start now. It would be a wasted effort anyhow; Dynamene couldn’t even bring herself to look at his face, instead staring rigidly at his toned shoulders. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her; she knew he wouldn’t yell at her; so why, oh why was she so shaken just standing before him? Why did her entire body feel as if it would break down into jelly at the slightest movement?

He rose one hand, and Dynamene forced herself to look. Laying atop his palm was a simple box, covered in blue satin. She immediately understood, and a different sort of heat filled her veins. He again waited in silence. She knew he meant for her to take it, and she lifted her own hands hesitantly to reach for it. Every movement, every motion was a vast effort, and she found herself begging her body not to flinch, not to mess this up.

As her fingers met the box, she accidentally brushed one fingertip against his palm, and she quickly pulled the hand back, as if afraid she’d be burned. But the other hand had successfully taken ahold of the box, and she drew it back to her chest. “Th… Thank you, Lord Poseidon,” she whispered, her voice breathless and her mouth dry as cotton.

He said nothing in reply, lingering for a moment. She chanced a glance up at his face, seizing the opportunity to once again memorize every feature of his face. A straight nose with the slightest upwards tilt. Those generous black eyelashes that flared out like the wings of a raven. His slight lips that, no matter the expression their owner held, always looked soft. And that curl of hair that always rested alongside his temple, threatening to dip into his eyes – how she longed to reach forward and brush it back for him.

               How she longed to reach up and caress his cheek.

               It was then that Dynamene realized that he was, indeed, gazing back at her, for perhaps the first time in her life. But perhaps she had just imagined it because, in the next moment, he was already turning away from her, striding away towards the bath. She stared at his strong back and the shifting of his shoulder blades, and her hands tightened around the box.

Without another word, she slipped from his quarters and fled down the stairs.

“Dynamene? Is everything alright?” Ianeira called after her, voice filled with concern.

“Yes!” Dynamene found the energy to shout back, even as she continued to sprint. “I’m just in a hurry to see my gift!”

Breathless, she shouldered open the door to her room and closed it with the other before sitting atop her bed. She could once again barely command her trembling fingers to separate the lid from the rest of the box before gently lifting a layer of protective cotton that shielded the rest of the contents.

Nestled inside, a single mother-of-pearl bracelet gleamed up at her in the sunlight.

Her breath caught in her chest. She didn’t dare touch with her clumsy hands for the moment, instead lifting the box up so she could better examine it in the light. It was flawless and sized perfectly for her slender wrist. Setting the box back on her lap, she tenderly slid the bracelet over her hand. She held it with a feather-light touch, not wanting to leave a smudge on any pearl’s surface. It fit as if it was always meant to be there.

She lifted her hand to the window, admiring in awe the way the iridescent beads caught the light. “Beautiful,” she sighed. For reasons unclear, the memory of her fingers brushing his hand arose, and she pursed her lips before cradling her bracelet-clad wrist against her chest. “Thank you,” she whispered. The heat in her face, and the electricity coiled in her veins, remained.

---

Author’s notes:

I really wanted to explore the feelings and pain of first love in this fanfiction; you know, that teenage feeling of desperately wanting someone unattainable. It really brought back some of my own memories while writing this lol. I also want to explore the gray shades of loving someone like Poseidon, in as canon a view as possible. Of course, there area a lot of empty spaces in Poseidon’s canon characterization for me to fill in, but I’ll try to do so while heavily considering his canon depiction.

There’s no way I can write for 49 different side character Nereids, so there will only be six or seven at most that are part of the cast. If it’s hard keeping them straight, have this little guide I made for myself while writing:

Actaea – caring sister

Eione – tomboy sister

Thoe – rude sister

Ianeira – oldest sister

[mollyencrypted]

So, the King Lear On The Continent AU (AKA, the one where @inexplicifics' Warlord Geralt keeps getting dragged into everyone else's petty political bullshit, and Cordelia has rather complicated feelings about her terrible family):

The thing is, Cordelia is not a politically savvy woman. She isn't cunning as her sisters are, cannot play the games of flattery and falsehood that will allow her to survive. What she is is observant. She listens, she talks to people, and she knows that in the Wolf's lands the people have well-kept roads and well-stocked stores, the peasantry can afford to change their clothes, there are no unscrupulous nobles diverting the wealth of their people into their own purses. And in the Wolf's lands, the exiled third daughter of a senile King from a country that few people even remember exists might have prospects outside of a whorehouse or gutter. Might even have a chance to save her family from themselves.

The court sorceress, Lady Miranda, is young and naïve, barely more than a student, and cannot reconcile Cordelia's unjust banishment with her image of Lear the benevolent, the just, the noble, but Cordelia has always counted her as a friend, and so whilst her father professes not to care where she ends up, be it desert or marshland or the bottom of the sea, Miranda hears her request to be portalled to Wolvenberg.

In Wolvenberg, she steels herself, squares her shoulders, tries to capture that same indomitable spirit that runs through her sisters, and that once ran through their mother too. And she walks into the closest inn - the Griffin's Eyrie, and scans the interior. There's a group of Witchers drinking in the corner - she's thought they might be there, if they're anything like her father's soldiers - and she strides up to them, trying very hard to ignore the fact that she is very young, and not very skilled in self-defense, and these men are very big. And she drops to one knee, and begs them to escort her to the Wolf, where she might request sanctuary. She's expecting them to leer or look down her dress or...well, she's not really sure what else and doesn't want to know either, but the point is, they don't do any of those things. One of them gives her a hand and helps her up, and his companions finish up their drinks, and nobody seems at all suspicious of her motives, and isn't that peculiar? But now is not the time to be unpacking all of that.

She spends three days with the four Witchers - Griffins, she learns, on their way back from a hunt - who continue to treat her courteously and not very much like her father's soldiers at all, before they finally reach Kaer Morhen and she is brought before the White Wolf, Warlord of the North, and hopes that behind that unreadable expression is a heart that will see fit to help her. She tells him about her father, his failing mind and growing ego and the way she and her sisters - sharp-tongued Goneril and volatile Regan - grew up, always competing with each other for his love and attention, the way he has now left himself at the mercy of two women who have no reason to love him back, raised with the knowledge that they will never be as good as sweet demure Cordelia and faced with the sight of him casting aside even her, and she begs him to please, help her fix it, because she knows she has every right to resent him and she does but she still doesn't want him dead and her sisters will show no mercy.

As she speaks, she feels rather foolish for daring to think that the most powerful man on the Continent would listen to the pleas of a disgraced ex-princess from a nowhere-country, but when she is finished he hmms and retreats to speak with his Council. And Cordelia is lead away by a young woman in a blue-and-red silk dress, who introduces herself as Milena and offers to help her clean herself up.

In the end, the decision is made that the Wolf will not invade Cordelia's former homeland (and she's relieved at that), but that he'll lend her a small force, comprised of eight Griffins, to provide numbers and Lambert, to speak for the Wolf and guard her and Milena, who is apparently his wife (or something like that, Cordelia isn't sure) and whose presence will hopefully make it clear that this is very much not an invasion (and also to stab anyone who gets too close to Cordelia and shouldn't be there.)

Cordelia's terrible family end up gathered in one of the council chambers, and Cordelia gets to work, with her escorts staring down anybody attempting to object. Her father has formally abdicated the throne and isn't in a fit mental state to re-ascend anyway; she asks his cousin if he'll be willing to host the old king at his estate, and that's that problem taken care of. His cousin, whom she's always called 'uncle', is just as short-sighted as he is, but he's loyal and trustworthy and will ensure he spends the rest of his days in comfort.

Finding someone to take the throne is a little harder - her father has no sons, neither of her sisters can be trusted with that much power, and she herself is certainly out of the running - but her uncle's eldest son is of royal blood and is a truly good and responsible man. He's almost as naïve as she once was, but his brother is anything but, and although he's technically illegitimate, giving him a title and land of his own ought to keep him loyal enough to the new King that he'll make a decent advisor. Both her sisters would have been far happier in the military, but there's nothing Cordelia can do about that, and so she requests that they be given advisory positions too, and her father's former chief advisor, blunt and honest, to appoint anybody else necessary and keep them in line.

Cordelia herself cannot stay in the kingdom, although now-King Edgar has rescinded her banishment. She cannot remain in court after bringing the Wolf's forces upon the country, and she cannot bear to stay with her father after his treatment of her (she loves him, but she does not like him especially much, after all of this), and so she returns to Kaer Morhen. And...it's good, is what it is. Witchers can smell lies, it turns out, and so people are honest in a way her father's court rarely was, and she makes friends quickly - Milena, Oliwia, Aleksander, Jaskier... and maybe they haven't found a real job for her yet, but she can sew and spin and sing a little bit. She'll make a place for herself here somehow, and she'll work through her complicated mess of feelings eventually.

It's going to be alright.

No, really.

[thotsforvillainrights]

~Pivitol~

Summary: Pops takes control of the date and gets in some opinions (much to Kai’s disdain). Meanwhile Kai is trying to find a way to balance the quickly moving relationship along with his newfound feelings. Plus there is some touching!

Chapter: 10

Warnings: None

“Anyway, gonna show me your room kind sir?”

If his heart wasn’t beating that fast before, it was certainly beating fairly quickly by now! “M-my room?” He mentally face palmed at stuttering and you laughed a bit. His shyness was out of character so it was soothing to know you had that much of an effect on him! “Uhhh yeah? Your room? Well unless you have any other room to show me?” A little lightbulb went off in his head and he quickly stood up from the couch. He held his hand out for you...the second time today he would be touching you...and you graciously accepted it, being sure not to comment on his germaphobia and kill the moment. “I do have some other rooms to show you. “ He lied smoothly. There was nothing else in the house of true interest (at least to him anyway), but he wasn’t even sure the condition of his room at the moment. “Follow me this way, Angel.” He tested the waters with the nickname again, and you complied as if he’d been calling you it from day one. In fact, he had been testing the waters for a good time now. The increased effort to touch you was a test to himself. At one point he rolled up his sleeves and relished in the fact that he had not a single hive to show. 

You were like magic to him.

“Kai, what room is this?” You asked in confusion and he smiled, turning on the lights to reveal MANY books from wall to wall. In fact, the medium sized room had all walls set as a bookshelf. “This is Pops collection of books. Before you ask, there is no way in hell the old man read all of this. I just think he’s an avid collector. Although I do seem to recall him reading quite a bit when I was younger. I always assumed it was mostly paperwork. Oh my apologies, is my prattling on beginning to bother you?” He asked as you gently trailed your hands along the books. “It’s not bothering me at all! It’s cute when you talk about your childhood. And these books are all so well taken care of. Not a speck of dust in sight!” Kai chuckled and leaned against the doorframe. “That’s because of my contributions during chore day. That old man tends to the fish in the Koi pond and calls it a day. Can’t complain though, at least he gets out of the way for me to handle the business.” You rolled your eyes and him and scoffed playfully. “Poor Kai, left to do something I’m sure he enjoys doing for fun anyway.” 

“Bold of you to assume I enjoy cleaning because I’m a germaphobe. The whole point of it is to stay away from as much dirt as possible.” He teased you and reached out for your hand again. “C’mon. There are more rooms in this house to show you.” While you were enjoying the time and taking in as many as views as possible, he was internally freaking out about holding your hand. This was the first hand he’s intentionally held in his life! Well, besides holding Pop’s hand to cross the street when he was a kid. A part of him wonders if it’s childish to have this kind of mental breakdown over something as simple as handholding, but it’s quickly silenced by the urge to push his limits further. You’re beginning to make him wonder if he’s even truly a germaphobe in the first place. Around the 5th or 6th room he was starting to look at your dismissive face and he became concerned. “Is there...something bothering you Y/N?” 

“Hmm?! Oh no it’s okay. I just...I really am ready to see your room. It’s getting late and I don’t wanna miss the opportunity is all.” You fessed up and he swallowed. “I see. Okay then, just follow me.” He could feel his hands getting a little clammy underneath the fabric gloves. Thank God he made it to the door before it leaked through and you felt it. That would’ve been more embarrassing than any childhood story Pops could tell you. When you made it to the doors, he mentally braced himself before opening it and moving aside for you to enter. The gasp you made almost made him fall out but luckily it was coming from a good place of mind. “Kai it’s exactly like I imagined! This is the neatest room I’ve ever been in! Have you even ever slept in that bed over there??? This makes me want to go home in clean my rats nest of a room (no offense reader, but your room in this story is in fact a rats nest)!” You continued to compliment him while his eyes locked onto the singular book laying on the desk and not on his shelf. He dashed to put it back into place and you laughed. “No need to panic over something so simple. This room is damn near spotless. I’d live here if I could!” You exclaimed as you let yourself fall back onto the plush bed. He didn’t mind you rolling around and your laughter was awakening something him at the moment until Pops interrupted the two of you. “Live here you say!?” He popped his head in the doorway and Kai verbally sighed. “Not now please...” He begged but the old man ignored him. “How about staying the night for a starter? I’ve got somewhere to be tomorrow and the boy can’t handle the Hassaikai work and the chores as well. Perhaps could you lend a hand with my end of the work please?” 

“Pops there is no way in hell-”

“Sure thing!” Kai just about got whiplash with how fast he jerked his head around to look at you. “W...wHaT???” You laughed and sat upright on the bed. “I’ll sleep over for a night or two if I need to. It’s kinda boring at home and this place is nice. Besides, I’m off for the next few days. Plus hours have been cut and I’m one of them thanks to me being a rather new employee still. Pops you can trust us to keep the house running while you’re gone!” You assured him and he smiled in return. “Thank you my dear. I’ll be heading out to pack right now.” Pops walked out and Kai excused himself to follow directly behind the elder. Once in the confinement of Pop’s room, Kai went off. “Are you actually going senile old man?! What the hell was that!???” Pops simply laughed it off and began packing his bags. “What do you mean? I just recruited some help for you from my darling in-law. Besides, it would be nice for Y/N to get to know the house better since I intend for the two of you to move in together once the relationship progresses to that point. Oh yes, then the marriage will soon come. And of course the grandkids you’ll have/adopt. Oh and also-”

“YOU ARE GETTING AHEAD OF YOURSELF!” Kai’s face was beet red with anger and embarrassment while Pops simply laughed it off. “Calm down my boy, I simply wanted you to spend some time with them. It’s better because you’re far too late in developing feelings. I was wondering if you planned on dying alone. I’m glad to know you aren’t going to be alone when I pass someday. I’m proud of you for finding someone so wonderful to be at your side. Y/N is good, I can tell from her/his/their smile.” Pops gently reached to pat Kai’s shoulder and he calmed down under the old man’s touch.

Sometimes he was bearable.

“Besides, I left you another special gift below the base in your office. I thought it would come in handy.” Pops smiled mischievously while Kai gagged.

Sometimes bearable, not all the time...

Now he would have to tend to you for a day or two.

[alirhi]

How I'd have done TFATWS pt 1

Okay, I am such a whore for positive attention that, yes, it literally only takes one person expressing interest to get me to do something lol. So, for the lovely @goblin-tea, here is how The Falcon and the Winter Soldier would have gone for Bucky if I'd been a writer on the show!

Also, shoutout to @gunshou, who popped up showing support when I was in the middle of writing this lol 😘

Episode 1: New World Order

I actually love how most of this episode was handled; it's what drew me into the show in the first place, and gave me such hope for the rest of it. Most of the changes that I'd make here are pretty minor, tbh.

I'd specify the setting in some way for Bucky's nightmare. Obviously, since he was there and knows what happened, when, and where he was, it wouldn't be like the setting changes in movies where they slap a big, bold title card over the scene. Still, I'd probably open with a brief establishing shot showing the city skyline or something; some identifying feature so that viewers can work out where this happened without needing a direct statement from Marvel (note: if you need to directly address your audience to clarify something from within your story, you're a bad storyteller). What year did this take place? I show technology from the time; perhaps a dated cell phone in someone's hand. The point is to establish where and when The Winter Soldier killed RJ Nakajima, without detracting from the emotional impact of the scene. Why does it matter? Because we should know why. Why is Bucky dreaming about this particular incident? Was it his last mission before the events of CA:TWS (a theory I see frequently repeated but with no evidence to back it up)? Was it earlier on? Is RJ only on the forefront of Bucky's mind because of his (unhealthy, but we'll get to that) friendship with Yori? How long has Yori been suffering under the weight of his grief?

I would not have had him crash through the wall, btw. As cool as that shot looked, let's try to remember that The Winter Soldier was a ghost story for 70 years. Ghosts don't leave giant gaping holes in hotel walls. I'm not saying brazen wholesale destruction is out of character for him (obviously not. I've seen CA:TWS lmao. many times. this moment lives rent-free in my brain:

found on google without credit; pls lmk if it's yours so I can credit.

but you don't become a "ghost story" if you always leave that much evidence, ijs)

I'd leave the terrible therapy session alone. That scene was beautiful. Beautifully shot; I loved how claustrophobic it felt, and it really did a wonderful job of showing how Bucky felt on the spot, scrutinized, almost put on display for this bitch woman. This scene establishes Raynor as clearly wrong, and an unprofessional mess, and Bucky calls her out on it. I fucking love that!

lmao gods, I love his painfully awkward forced smile... Guys, this episode is fkn great. (betcha weren't expecting so much praise from me, were you? 😂)

"You're free." "To do what?"

👆👆👆 In my show? That would have more of an impact on Bucky's arc. That question would be one of the underlying issues moving his whole story along. Twice in this show, he's told that he's free, but no one addresses what he's free from, much less what he's free to do next.

It's a minor thing, but when Yori tells Bucky to ask Leah out? I'd have Bucky do more than just shake his head in silent horror. Not much more, just something that matters to me as someone who's worked in the service industry for many, many years and dealt with too many creepos: Bucky would flat-out say "she's at work! that's harassment, Yori!"

Yori can still stomp right past that boundary, and Leah can still smile and agree. I just really want someone to verbally acknowledge that you don't fucking ask someone out when they're at work. Ever. Bucky cringing and apologizing puts the power of the conversation back in Leah's hands; it gives her an out to politely decline if she's not interested, and just laugh off Yori's flirting on Bucky's behalf as a senile old man being silly, so I'm actually fine with how this scene turned out. I just would personally have gone that extra inch there for the idiots in the audience who don't get Bucky's subtle "wtf" reaction and why Yori's suggestion was so bad. If someone's livelihood depends on being nice to you, keep your goddamn distance. Flirting with them or asking them out when they're at that big of a disadvantage and have virtually no power to say "no" is harassment.

Here is where I'd make one more subtle change, too. When Yori sees the mochi and is reminded of his son, and tells Bucky about his death, I'd just slip in a time frame. "x years ago, my son was..." blah. (Guys, it really bothers me not knowing when that scene took place rofl can you tell?)

One complaint I've seen a lot online about this show is how it's a bit murky on just how well known Bucky is in-universe. He can walk around Brooklyn with more or less total anonymity, but he's also recognized as "an Avenger" (when he was never actually technically in the group)... but honestly? I think it's actually pretty realistic. Just because someone's famous doesn't mean every single person on the planet knows who they are and what they look like well enough to instantly recognize them on the street. People look different in photos than in person, and pre-Blip, Bucky had the complete Jesus look - long flowing hair and a full beard. In TFATWS he's a little scruffy, but not this:

Sebastian looks like about 10 different men from one moment to the next just irl with a change in haircut, lighting, expression, whether or not he got enough sleep the night before... 😂 I don't really find it hard to believe that people not expecting to bump into an Avenger would have trouble seeing Bucky post-haircut as anything other than just another attractive white guy.

Anyway! Sorry for the segue lol. On to the date!

Earlier in this very same goddamn episode, it is established that Bucky can remotely operate a car with a tablet. This is not a technologically-inept geezer. This is a 30-something nerd who loves new technology, who, yes, is facing a brave new world and a whole lot of new technology, but has never shown any issue picking it up. The crappy flip phone he handed Raynor earlier? a burner to keep her out of what little personal life he does have (we never see it again in the real show, anyway). The "tiger photos" line? Stays, not to show Bucky's floundering ineptitude with technology, but as a little nod to his bisexuality. (don't like it? don't wanna see Bucky as bi? go watch the show and read Skogland's borderline-offensive interviews. This isn't "how I would pander to a homophobic audience" it's "how I would have written it." the "Bucky is bi" interpretation is super fucking common and has been since TFA so bite me 😁)

Tiny nitpick, but I'd also have the Battleship boards actually set up properly lmao. What even was that? Anyway...

I don't think I'd have Leah get all ranty about Yori and RJ. That's not first date talk, for one thing. For another, let's ease up on the beating Bucky and the audience over the head with that one incident in a single episode, shall we? Instead, I'd have her stick with the date questions - she asked his age, asked about his family; I'd have her follow it with questions about what he does for a living (giving us a chance to not only actually have that question answered for us - how the hell does Bucky keep himself from being homeless? lol - but also set up...)

He shuts down a little when she starts asking about his past; she's innocently curious, just trying to get to know him, but he's flinchy and deflects with questions about her. The date is awkward, but doesn't abruptly end with him running away lol. He walks Leah home, like the old-fashioned gentleman he is, goes home, himself, and end on him grimacing in his sleep, in the clutches of another nightmare: not as much detail as the RJ murder scene, we see disjointed, disorienting images of fluorescent lights glinting off of machinery, the occasional shot of Bucky writhing in the chair, a shot of that damned notebook (to remind the dumber audience members why Raynor's passive-aggressive notebook thing was so triggering for him), and we hear echoes of a couple of the trigger words, and Bucky's screams.

[noctuaas]

AS YOU WISH

synopsis; in this tale of romance, revenge, and treason, you, a beautiful commoner, are set to become the princess of aobajousai. will your one true love be able to save you in time?

pairing; kuroo tetsurou x reader

content; princess bride au (heavily based on both the movie and novel), medieval au, torture, mild violence, drama, fantasy/adventure, murder, minor character death, fem!reader

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02 ; THE GROOM

PRINCE OIKAWA WAS A MAN of great renown. There wasn’t a person in Aobajohsai that couldn’t recognize him in one swift glance; he walked through the kingdom with a swing in his dainty hips, which contrasted his mighty barrel thighs and broad, sinewy shoulders. His steps were surprisingly soft, and if he wanted to become a ballet dancer, he would probably find surprising success. But Oikawa didn’t want to be a ballet dancer. He wasn’t even in much of a rush to be king (considering he practically ran the kingdom anyway, what with his mother and father being too old and senile to do it themselves). Everything took second place in his affections, save for one thing.

Tracking was his love.

He made it a habit to never let more than a few days go by without tracking something down or training his hounds. It started when he was a young boy, with his parents’ two Irish Wolfhounds—off he would go with them, chasing rabbits through fields to add the stew that the palace cook was making for supper. Before long, he started studying other tracking sports, from fox hunting to coonhunting to even scenting out other humans, and became a talented tracker in each field. Once he was determined, once he focused on a target, the Prince was relentless.

For a while, Prince Oikawa traveled the world, acquiring hounds from the most prestigious lineages and persuading masterful hunters to mentor him. As his skill increased, he took to training and breeding his own dogs, creating Aoban pedigrees that had a name in and of themselves. Unfortunately, travelling consumed time, and the time away from Aobajohsai became increasingly worrying. Oikawa’s father was growing old, and as the only male heir to the throne, it eventually became time for the Prince to return home.

Instead, he took to roaming the Aoban countryside on weekends, accompanied by Count Iwaizumi on the horses he trained. (The Count always was a better horseman than the Prince.) Sometimes they paid visits to the far corners of the kingdom, but more often they stuck to day trips near the castle.

Prince Oikawa was walking out of the barn, two horses in hand, in preparation for one of these trips when news of his father’s health taking a turn made its ultimate intrusion. The sun hadn’t been up long, dew still heavy on the grass, when Count Iwaizumi made his appearance.

“There you are!” the Prince chided him, “You’re running behind, you know?”

(Other nobles of Aobajohsai might have gotten in trouble for such tardiness, but the Count was an exception. After he and the Prince grew up side by side, Iwaizumi was the only person that could raise his voice or lay a hand on Oikawa without consequence.)

“There is news,” Iwaizumi did not bother apologizing.

“Of?” Oikawa handed off the Count’s horse.

“I have the report of your father’s annual physical.”

A pregnant pause.

“He’s dying.”

Prince Oikawa sighed, a frown creasing his otherwise flawless cheeks. He wasn’t surprised by this news—the king’s health had been questionable for years now—but it certainly wasn’t how he would like to have started his morning.

“Well, I guess it’s about time I get married then, huh?”

“Looks to be that way, sire.”

Four of them met in the great council room of the castle: Prince Oikawa, his greatest confidante, Count Iwaizumi, his father, the aging King, and his evil stepmother, the Queen.

(She wasn’t really evil. In fact, she was actually one of the most beloved people in the kingdom, and had been married to the King since long before he began mumbling. Prince Oikawa had been but a child then, and since the only stepmothers he knew of were the mean ones from fairy tales and bedtime stories, he had decided she must be evil.)

“Alright,” the Prince began once they had all been assembled. “I must marry soon, so we have to pick a bride for me.”

“Yes,” the King said, “I’ve been thinking it was about time we found you a bride.”

(In actuality, he mostly just mumbled it, like, “Yesss, I’ve beennn thumbleee about temmmm wefumbbble bridddde.”)

“You couldn’t be more right, dear,” the Queen patted the King’s shoulder. She was the only person that could decipher his words during these little episodes.

“What did he say?”

“He said whoever we decide on will be getting a wonderfully handsome prince for a lifetime companion,” the Queen replied.

“Ah, well thank you, Father. You’re looking quite well yourself,” Oikawa chuckled back.

“It’s the new miracle maker, I’m sure of it,” the King piped in, wiggling a finger. (It came out mumbled again: “I’ssss the nmumble mumble.”)

“What did he say?”

“He said a man of your importance shouldn’t marry just anyone.”

“I suppose,” Prince Oikawa rested his chin in his hands before sighing.

“What about that Ushijima?” The Queen suggested.

“It would be a good match politically,” Count Iwaizumi admitted, though he knew how much the idea revolted Oikawa.

Prince Ushijima was from Shiratorizawa, the country that lay across the Aoba Channel. (They put it differently in Shiratorizawa; Aobajohsai was the country across the Channel of Shiratorizawa, according to them. The two countries had a history together, spending centuries warring each other. There had been the Rice War, and then the Tuna Fish Discrepancy, which nearly sent both nations into bankruptcy, the Fern Fiasco, which did end up running them fiscally dry, but it was followed by the Great Emerald Boom, during which they both got rich again.)

“He’s a handsome young man, I think we should bring him over for a discussion,” the Queen said. She was always the peacemaker in the royal family, a diplomat through and through.

“No, absolutely not!” cried Prince Oikawa. If it had been any other person, had Ushijima had a sibling or something, perhaps he would have mulled it over, but that wasn’t the case. Oikawa simply could not marry Ushijima.

“There’s no other heirs in any neighboring countries that would benefit us,” Count Iwaizumi reminded him, though he knew it wouldn’t change the Prince’s mind.

“I’ll marry a commoner before I marry that Shiratorizawa filth!”

“Boo, no Shiratorizawa filth!” the King chimed in. (“Booo, numble shumble zumfle!”)

The room quieted for a moment; they seemed to be stuck. Finally, the Count perked up.

“Maybe you can marry a commoner.”

Dead silence again.

“Look, your people have been a bit tense with us nobles the past few years,” the Count continued. “You could bridge the gap by marrying a commoner.”

“A commoner as the princess, what a fun idea!” the King said. (“Commumble as theprimmmble, whumble fum idea!” His words were becoming a tiny bit clearer; he seemed to be coming out of the episode).

“What did he say?” Oikawa still asked.

“Whoever it is must look the part of a noble. They should at least look nice,” said the Queen.

“Of course! I’ll find a commoner so beautiful that when you see them, you stop and stare, and say, ‘Wow, that Prince Oikawa must be some kind of fella to marry someone like that.’ That’s what I’ll do! Search the country, no, search the world!”

Count Iwaizumi furrowed his brow in thought.

“No, I think she is already found,” he said. An uncharacteristic smile crossed his face.

The next day at dawn, the two young noblemen reined in their horses at the hilltop by your farm. Iwaizumi rode a massive black gelding, stout and bulging with muscles. Prince Oikawa rode one of his whites, leaner and elegant. His mare made Iwaizumi’s mount seem like a lowly plow puller.

“She delivers milk from her family’s farm to the market square in the mornings,” Count Iwaizumi told him.

“And she’s truly-not-a-shadow-of-a-doubt-without-question beautiful?” Oikawa asked.

“You calling me a liar?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Oikawa chuckled.

“She was something of a mess when I saw her,” admitted the Count, still grinning in amusement. “But she was still one of the most beautiful people I have laid eyes on.”

From the bottom of the hill, you appeared, turning your horse (whose name now seems quite ironic) onto the path to the farm. Even from this distance, Oikawa knew Iwaizumi was right.

“I must court my princess, now.”

“Good luck,” the Count teased, unknowing that the Prince might actually need it.

And so the Prince rode on, maneuvering his horse quite expertly down the hill until he was at your side.

You blinked curiously when he approached. You had never seen such a man, riding such a brilliantly shiny horse and wearing such extravagantly crafted clothes.

“Are you Miss (y/n)?”

“I am. Who’s asking?”

“Your prince,” Oikawa grinned a dazzling grin. “I’ve come to ask for your hand in marriage.”

Marriage? You continued riding, with one eyebrow quirked incredulously.

“I’m sorry, sire, but I refuse.”

“You can’t refuse.”

“I just did.”

“But refusal could mean treason, and treason means death,” explained a very confused Prince.

“Kill me then,” you told him.

“But…” the Prince trailed off. For the first time in his life, he was left dumbfounded. Speechless. Shellshocked. He had not been prepared to be turned down, not even slightly.

“But I’m your Prince! And—” Oikawa was beginning to stumble over his words. “And I’m not that bad. How could you rather be dead than married to me?”

“It’s nothing personal, sire,” you soothed his ego. “But marriage involves love, and love has never been particularly kind to me, so I’m sworn to never love again.”

Prince Oikawa’s brows furrowed, creasing his otherwise flawless forehead.

“Love? Who said anything about love?” he said. “Look, here’s the deal. There must always be a male heir to the throne of Aobajohsai. Once my father dies, there will only be a king: me. All I ask is that you marry me so that I can provide a new heir to the throne.”

You stared at him silently.

“You’ll get to be the richest and most powerful woman in the country, and give away turkeys at Christmas and meet people from foreign countries. You could even provide us nobles insight to better help commoners like yourself. So won’t you be my wife?”

You paused again, looking back over at your family’s humble little house. Your father was growing older, and milking the cows everyday was becoming difficult with his aching joints.

“I won’t ever love you.”

“If that is what you wish,” Prince Oikawa said.

“Then by all means, let us marry.”