#but only if you squint and they are more like hints or references than spoilers
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"Here lies a strange energy"
More shenanigans of things that doesn't exist, a complete amalgamation of my feelings from rainworld (I was just fooling around with the brushes)
#this room or region does not exist BTW but it is moody#watcher spoilers#but only if you squint and they are more like hints or references than spoilers#and they are mostly for decoration than plot important#also some imagination stuff#I think I thought of hunter a lot when doing this too after the whole paint melt on grayscale#hunter you deserved better...#rain world#my art#rw watcher#this was actually going to be just a slugcat in shadow but watcher helps with contrast in general
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In The Stacks Part 5: The Elevator
Tomura Shigaraki x Reader
A mysterious library patron catches your eye, seeking information about his past life. You help him, stirring up your own past in the process. Contains: gn/afab reader, SMUT, cussing, mentions of injuries/violence, obsessive/yandere behavior (mentions and/or includes: stalking, drugging, kidnapping, probably more if you squint), spoilers.
[previous] this is part 5 [next] [series masterlist]

"I desire violently– and I wait."
– Anaïs Nin

— — more tags added for this chapter, please read them before proceeding + as usual, minors do not interact with this series — —
You sit slouched over the back of a chair, staring at the twenty something texts you’ve sent since yesterday with no response from Tenko. The further the day goes on without seeing him, the more you wish the ground would split open and swallow you whole. It's the least the world could do to put you out of your misery.
To make matters worse, it's May 9th. The one year anniversary of the final war ending. There's a celebration planned and everything so people have flooded in from all over Japan, packing themselves into the three block memorial park and surrounding businesses. This leaves the library fairly dead, which is unfortunate because you could use the distraction.
Most distractions. As long as it’s not that festival.
For obvious reasons, you have complicated feelings about the celebration and have been planning on staying home tonight. You think Tenko would go though, it seems like the kind of thing he would find funny. Maybe if he doesn't respond by then, you should go there to look for him.
“Ahem,” a dry voice calls out behind you. You spin around to find an older woman in a teal sweater looking very annoyed by having to wait a few extra seconds to check her books out. You take her library card and the books, scanning each of them.
“They’ll be due in two weeks,” your voice autopilots itself, “have a nice day.”
Walking away, she grumbles something you can’t quite hear. You don't really care, she's in here all the time and she's made so many complaints about everyone working that no one will take it seriously if she reports you anyways.
“Is this mood thing you have going on because your boyfriend’s not here today?” Ao teases as he returns from shelving books.
“He's not my boyfriend,” you hear the blank tone of your voice and it almost makes you shutter. “He's…we just got coffee once. Er, twice.”
You’re not really sure why you’re hiding your relationship with Tenko, especially from Ao. He tells you all of his boy issues. Besides, even if Tenko (or is it Tomura now that you've accidentally reminded him?) used to be a super villain, he has a pretty good alibi with a paper trail of articles on his origins now, thanks to you. On top of that, Tomura Shigaraki has a death record and he doesn’t publicly go by that name anymore. You don't think he does, at least. Therefore, as far as anyone else is concerned he doesn't even exist.
But, on the other hand, at no point in your hooking up around the building has he ever referred to himself as your boyfriend or implied it would be okay for others to know. Maybe he’s just looking out for your job, but you’re not about to out everything without talking to him first. You've waited for so long, you have to get this right.
So, for now, not publicly your boyfriend. But, he is your soulmate. The person you built this entire life around with nothing but a mere hint of their continued existence. He means so much more to you than any of the ways you could ever explain it to anyone else and any words you could possibly come up with would only cheapen it.
Sure, he doesn't seem to be talking to you at the moment, but you'll win him back quickly enough. You have to.
“Uh huh, sure,” Ao jokes, “I’ve seen how you look at each other. You’ve been staring at him for a month. The first time he walked in, I thought I'd need a mop to wipe up all the drool. If he’s not your boyfriend yet, you need to fix that.”
“Trying,” you groan, checking your notification-less phone once more.
“Oh,” he catches on, “oh no. What happened?”
“I,” you try to think of how to phrase this without incriminating anyone, “I said something I shouldn’t have. I’ve been helping him find information on some things and I had more information to give but didn’t share all of it because it needed to be the right time. Then I let it slip accidentally at a very wrong time. And I need to make it right, but he’s not responding right now.”
That’s mostly true. You did let it slip that you had more information at the wrong time, but you also weren’t telling him because what former villain would want to be with a hero? You needed him to get to know you better and see how much the two of you are meant for each other before he realized who he used to be. Now, you’ll have to find another way to make him see that. That’s not something you can ask advice for though.
“How long has it been?” Ao asks, snapping you back to reality.
“Since yesterday, but he usually gets here two hours ago and he’s not replying so he’s obviously avoiding me.”
“That’s not very long. And this information you shared, it sounds sensitive. The kind of sensitive that someone could need a day or two to process? This might not be about you at all.”
“Maybe,” you grumble, “or maybe he’ll forever associate me with it and hate me for it. Shooting the messenger and all that.”
“Hmm, I see.” Ao considers, “how about this: let’s wait a day or two before assuming anything. Things come up, how do you know he’s not at home with food poisoning or something and can't charge his phone?”
You roll your eyes, hiding the closest thing to a smile you’ve had all day. “Well, now I’m going to be worried about that.”
“Always here to help,” Ao says, pushing away an empty cart, “but alas, my shift is ending and I need to get home to change for the celebration tonight. You going to be okay for the rest of the evening?”
“Yeah,” you say, not even convincing yourself, “it’ll be fine.”
He leaves to clock out, watching you out of the corner of his eye.
“Really,” he says on his way out the door, “call me if you need anything.”
In some ways, talking to Ao about Tenko made you feel a bit better. As much as you hate to admit it, part of you was starting to think you’d been hallucinating him and it’s nice to have another human verify his existence. You still have no clue how he’s still here though. There are so many questions you have for him.
First, you need to get through this.
He wasn’t upset with you yesterday, at least it didn’t seem like it. Tomura came immediately after you said his name. That’s not the response someone would have if they’re unhappy about it, right?
You keep replaying that moment over and over again in your head. Committing every detail to memory, trying to find any hint of a clue you missed like reliving it could give you some missing key to crack the code of why he's not responding.
At first, it seemed okay. He pulled you in closer. His hand gripped yours while wrapping his arms around you. He stayed like this for a while just holding you. When he pulled away to zip up his pants, his face shifted like he'd just realized something. He didn't look sad, more concerned. Almost like he was afraid of you.
“Uhm, I have to go,” is all he mumbled before grabbing his backpack and rushing down the stairs. At the time, you were confused but figured he’d explain later. Now, it’s been over twenty four hours and you still don’t have an explanation.
The evening continues to pass, slowly.
The memory replays and you find yourself caught on the nicer parts. It’s a good enough alternative to dwelling on how much you miss him.
His flawless hands. How perfectly they wrapped over yours as he pressed you into the bookshelf. You can’t imagine the quirk he used to have would work well for that, part of you is glad for whatever happened. In some small ways, at least. You obviously would have taken him either way, but you think some aspects of the life you're building together now are easier for you both. You'd imagine it wouldn't be easy to go through the world needing to constantly keep track of each of your fingers.
As much as you try to distract yourself with anything else, the replay continues. How he touched you. The way every part of his body fits with yours, like you were made for each other.
You feel so depraved having thoughts like this when he’s not even talking to you but you can’t help it. And, you tell yourself, you really shouldn’t be worried because he’ll be back soon enough.
You’ll make sure of it.
Part of you wonders if there’s a way you can force Tenko to talk to you. Not anything bad, just keeping him somewhere he has to stay until he hears you out. You could just tell him you're sorry you didn't say anything earlier, you were going to then he started hitting on you and you liked it so you waited. Saying that you found some article and connected the dots and you hope he's not upset with you for ruining the moment. He did say he wants you to know all of him, after all. Maybe he won’t remember that you were a hero and leave.
Now there's the next issue of how to get him somewhere alone and keep him there. He's stronger than you which might cause some difficulty. Your quirk? You could alw–
Wait, no. You can't believe this is where your mind is going. What the fuck are you thinking? There's no way you can actually hold him hostage. That's what it would be, right? You try to clear your head of it, but the idea lingers. Its mere existence in your brain left such an imprint of ‘but what if’ that you find yourself slipping back into planning it when you're not careful.
Instead, you go back to the nicer thoughts again. Suddenly, they seem like a very reasonable distraction.
You keep thinking back to the way he held your hand like you'd pull away at any moment. Fingers wrapped tightly over yours.
His hands.
That's another inconsistency you haven't figured out yet. Tenko has all of his fingers. According to everything you've read on the internet, Tomura Shigaraki did not. Yet you're absolutely certain they're the same person. You've never had this much chemistry with anyone else in your life. It has to be him.
Humans don't tend to grow back missing body parts on their own though. Is he a clone? A ghost? He feels warm, so you want to rule out the last one. Also, you think ghosts would have the same body they did at the time they died so that doesn't quite work. On that same note, clones are a blank slate so he wouldn't have the same scars either. Neither of these ideas hold water.
You've always been partial to the theory that the video was fake, but once more, this leaves you with more questions that can only be answered by the person who doesn't remember.
You wonder what he does remember. Clearly his name or he would have just been confused.
His life before you feels so nebulous. You know he was a super villain. Then something happened. After that, he stayed here because of someone and it didn't work out. That part always hurt, knowing he had feelings for someone else after what happened between the two of you on the rooftop. He doesn't seem like the type to switch between people that quickly. If it did mean as much to him as it did to you, he obviously doesn't remember it.
You hear the patter of rain before seeing the streaks running down the windows. Rough day for an outdoor celebration. It reminds you of how Tenko associates rain with you. You wonder if he’s thinking about you right now. You hope so.
As if you’d summoned him, Tenko walks in precisely one hour before closing.
He looks like he’s fairing as well as you in all of this. The lack of sleep is apparent on his face with the dark puffy circles under his eyes. Still, he’s breathtaking. You've never seen anyone so beautiful, even when he hasn't slept.
Nervously, he approaches the circulation desk, leaving a cup of coffee in front of you. His eyes catch yours for a moment before he looks away. Turning, he walks out before you can say anything.
You want to chase him. Your body stays glued in place though, glancing down at the cup.
The order is scratched out with the words “we need to talk” scrawled on the side of the cardboard sleeve. You guess he wanted to make sure you noticed what he wrote?
You couldn’t agree more though.
The next hour goes agonizingly slow, dragging out without a single patron, everyone is at the festival. You forgot how tiring that can be. Ten minutes in advance, your manager decides to close early to “let you go to the celebration.”
That’s…nice of her.
"Thanks," you yawn, dragging yourself to pull your backpack and jacket out of your cubby.
By the time you’re packed up to leave, you’re absolutely exhausted. As you walk out the door, you keep feeling like you’re missing something but not awake enough to place what it is.
It’s probably just from missing Tomura. Tenko. Whoever.
At first you thought the coffee he left would help, but you chugged it and even that couldn’t put a dent in not sleeping for two nights straight.
You can rest tonight though. First you have to make sure everything is okay with him. He wants to talk. It'll be okay.
As you walk out of the library doors, he steps from behind a pillar. His hair is lightly misted by the rain earlier. Was he waiting for you this whole time?
“Where were you today, you didn't respond to any of my messages,” you ask, trying to keep the despair from seeping into your voice.
“I was busy,” he says blankly.
“Oh. I see.” You might as well jump right into it before you overthink. “Uh, and I'm sorry. I found some information in an article connected to who you were, are, and I should have told you earlier,” your voice wavers and comes out way too fast, but you get through what you need to.
Tenko has no reaction, simply replying with, “right. You don’t have to pretend anything right now, we’ll talk about it. And you don’t have to be afraid of me, I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
He takes your shaking hand, steadying you as you walk. “I’m not–”
“Come on,” he replies, cutting you off. “Really. You don’t have to say any of this, I obviously see how nervous you are.”
You want to respond. To find the perfect thing to say in the moment, but you’re just too drained from work. The words never come.
The two of you pass through the crowd of people lingering outside, the bout of rain earlier did nothing to deter them. Everyone seems so happy, going about their lives that they don’t notice either of you. Before you know it, you’re passing through the big glass doors of your apartment building.
Stepping into the elevator, you start to pull your backpack off to reach the keys and keycard hooked to it out of habit, but Tenko stops you.
“I’ve got it,” he mumbles, “don’t worry about anything– you look tired. Like cute tired. It's good,” he adds cursing under his breath while trying to correct himself. He pulls your keys out, pressing a button that looks vaguely correct. You’re not sure, your eyes are getting bleary so it’s hard to focus.
Leaning back into a corner, you allow yourself to rest for a moment. He steps in front of you, surrounding you.
It feels nice to have him back like this.
You love this; it's where you belong.
“You know,” Tenko says, hand reaching for the railing behind you, “I tried so many times to see if you remembered me. Saying I died, how we met. You never reacted once. Now, I know you know who I am. How long were you going to wait to say something?”
“I would have told you eventually,” you yawn. “I just needed you to find out the right way. It never felt right. You deserve to know things in the," you yawn, "in the right way, I don't want you to be hurt by anything.”
Your head is spinning with exhaustion.
“You were...protecting me?” he asks, shocked at the idea anyone would ever think to do that. “Why?”
It takes everything in you to get your words out coherently.
“Because I love you.”
Tomura’s face shifts to confusion. “Really?”
“Yeah, of course I do,” you mumble.
“Fuck,” he half laughs, looking away.
The last thing you remember before the drowsiness overtakes you is the railing at your back crumbling to dust.

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taglist: @shigarakislaughter @dance-with-me-in-hell @minniessskii @vaval3ntin @ykyouluvme
@dummi666 @lotus-flower420 @nonominchan @softnfuzzy @mysticalhills
@reireitaka @crwavee @baby-pink-flowers @drlucichen @frieren-imposter
@lou-the-naga-queen @multifandomidk @love-for-yoosung-kim @kitkat13001 @kennys-partner
@amira-44820 @its-evee16 @itsameyermaw
#tomura shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x reader#shigaraki x y/n#shigaraki x you#x reader#eventual smut#bnha x reader#my hero academia x reader#my hero academia x you#my hero academia x gender neutral reader#tenko shimura fluff#tenko x reader#shimura tenko x reader#tenko shimura x reader#shigaraki tomura fluff#shigaraki tomura x reader#shigaraki tomura x you#mha x reader#mha x you#mha fluff#weird fluff#bnha fix it fic#stacks
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Liminal (RL!Mia Winters x MC/Reader)
Fandom: Resident Evil 8/Resident Lover Genre: Fluff and angst and fluff and angst Rating: Idk T? for blood. kind of. Warnings: Major character death, major spoilers (mainly implied) for Resident Lover, minor violence (not in detail) Summary: Mia's memories layer over each other, nineteen lives and hundreds of different loops, confusing and muddling her perception of the present. There is only one constant: Love. Notes: Less of a series of scenes and more like a lot of musing, with a tiny, tiny "scene" at the end. Most of the Mia/MC vibes are implied (referenced past fwb situation, but it's implied that they had feelings beyond that). References to the MC dating a few of the other characters because loops.
She doesn’t intentionally seek the memories out, doesn’t chase the heart-killer of nostalgia, the wretched thing hiding rot behind a shiny facade. But neither does she spend any effort to avoid the trappings of the past. When the moments come, when deja vu greets her, Mia only ever lets it wash over her. Peacefully. Hauntingly. After this many lives, it is the easiest lesson to heed.
Sometimes the memories come with a smile, a soft exhale that flows into a snicker. The first time she watches you on stage, pouring your heart out as Romeo, she can’t help but remember having to help you cram for your Language Arts final. Recalls the way your lips pouted after a particularly exasperated sigh; she can trace the mental image of the way those lips curled back into a smile at one of her dumb jokes. It’s the joke itself she can’t remember. A jab at Shakespeare, probably, the man an easy choice of target.
There’s a moment (it repeats, by God it repeats, a dozen times over the loops, every instance layered on top of the last) where she sits next to you on a couch meant for three. Instinct makes her legs twitch, yearning to prop her feet up on your lap, not letting anybody sit between you. Instead, she suppresses a smile, and watches as one of your roommates all but sits on top of you. It doesn’t matter which one; in Mia’s eyes, they’re both better than Miranda, if only in this moment, for this purpose.
Other memories make her breath hitch in her throat, words stuck to the sides of her mouth like cotton, another stone to sink in her stomach. These are the ones that blend together the most, twisting further with every loop, muddling her perception of which life she’s in. Most come by accident, echoing the way she’s met you before. A bump in the hallway, papers scattering, both crouching down to pick everything up. Sudden rainfall making you scramble to share an umbrella, going back and forth between who gets most of the cover. Teaming up to take down the reigning asshole at whatever drinking game the campus is currently obsessed with.
“You look familiar- have we met before?” You’ll ask, once in a blue moon of a loop, except this time it’s more than reuniting with a childhood friend. This time it’s reaching out to pluck the heartstrings of your soulmate. One of your soulmates, that is. Mia’s response only ever comes with unearned confidence, mirth dancing on her tongue, deflecting, deflecting, denying- a hint of flirting, maybe, when she can afford it. Getting you to blush had been a favorite pastime of hers, once, twice, many times. Even if it never extended into anything more official than sharing a bed.
Seeing you at parties makes her feel like so little has changed. Always the same drink of choice, always too readily egged on by friends. If she squinted, it would be easy to put herself in Daniela’s place at your side, and so Mia never lets her gaze linger for too long. When the cups get too deep for you, it’s far too easy to stop herself from intervening. She never did before. Even when she should have. Those are the timelines where Angie does more for you than Mia’s past self could ever dream of.
It almost makes up for the time she finds your body crumpled in front of the doll’s car, crimson splashed across the bumper. She stares, only for a moment, wondering when she stopped feeling anything at the sight of your corpse. Then she catches a glimpse of three familiar fanatics in the crowd, makes note of the way their horror differs from those around them. Figures their attempts at keeping you out of the spotlight would go too far, eventually. Figures that the real nostalgia greets her fingers as they wrap around the handle of her knife. Revenge was an old friend- just one rarely visited these days.
Hard for her to thrive on revenge when she’s got the bloodiest hands of them all. Strange how the feelings shifted over time, guilt warping into freeing comfort. The first time she killed you, the first time she brought on a new loop across a knife’s edge, she almost threw up. Stared at the deep cuts and lost herself in the memory of finding Miranda cradling your lifeless body, the end of your past incarnation. It made her stomach churn, made her heart drop, and fully solidified her need to make sure the loop would meet a perfect end (the only way to guarantee you’d never meet that fate again).
By now, the blood flows freely, remorse a trinket left forgotten on dusty shelves. It’s for the best. Better her than someone else, better for her to soak your bond in blood than to let it rot in the open. Ending the loop fills her with relief, with joy, as she invokes her promise to give you not just a happy ending, but the right one. She loses track of how many times she’s knocked you down or out, how many loops she’s filled with blood, how many times she’s allowed you the comfort of bleeding out in her arms.
Ironic, then, that you never accuse her of murdering you, only someone far less important. More ironic yet that the finger of blame forces her to recall the life that bound your souls together. But that memory doesn’t perfectly layer over the present, when she’s not burning by your side, dying with your name on her lips. The way you look at her almost makes her miss the flames (the next moment she focuses on has your hands touch in passing, knuckles brushing up against each other, and she feels an entirely different kind of fire).
There are times where she wonders how much you remember. Not consciously, not truly, but which memories are etched into your soul itself. Now those are the moments that test her resolve, that tempt her to chain herself to pursuing the past the same way that Miranda does. All it takes to make her heart stop is for you to tilt your head to the side, eyes not quite narrowed, a sly smile paired with a twinkle in your eye. Something about that expression always lets her know you’re on the verge of remembering something. Half of the time you’ll follow it up with a carefully worded question, never sure if Mia feels the same deja vu that you do.
Your timing isn’t always perfect; she can’t blame you, not with the way her memories layer over each other, fighting to see which controls her present.
One hand in her pocket, clutching her switchblade, the other placed gently on your shoulder. Now that the election is over (again. how many times have you won? why do you never walk away, even when Bela begs you?), she needs to remove you. But your eyes light up as soon as she touches you. Head tilt? Check. Sly smile? Check. You should be scared by the way she’s looking at you, by the way she has you cornered on the balcony, but somehow your mind has skipped past the familiar danger and right into the familiar flirting. Aren’t you supposed to be in love with Bela this time around?
“Care to dance?” You ask, offering your hand. How long has it been since the two of you danced?... Not since Miranda refused to go with you, a lifetime or two or five ago, long before the loop. Mia had been the one to ask you then. Her expression now must mirror what yours had been that day. Surprise, amusement, and adoration. Of course she agrees.
By the time Bela interrupts, the way she does in too many loops, Mia is grateful. It had been hard enough to avoid kissing you in that past life, it was almost impossible now. Still, the Dimitrescu stands frozen for a moment, her own layered memories not finding any match for the sight. She’s supposed to be tackling Mia, knocking her off the balcony, body breaking in the bushes below. Neither of them move, trying to calculate a route to familiar endings.
Mia misjudges her decision, ruins the feelings, guarantees that you’ll harbor a hesitance to dance with her for all loops and lives to follow. She holds your hand, she holds her knife. She holds your hand, she takes your life. For once, Bela is the one who’s two steps behind, her shove coming too late, even if it still carries Mia off of the ledge.
Death never takes either of you for terribly long. Miranda pulls back the fog of limbo, breaks the rules, makes the void spit you both back out, resetting the loop. One wakes up with memories of everything, the other with only impressions. Lingering pieces of nineteen strange dreams, and a hundred futures cycling over one another with interlocking grooves, the only set pattern being love and love and wretched, bloody love. Mia doesn’t chase the nostalgia, doesn’t seek out the ways she knows will lead to love, to the familiar warmth of your heart next to hers. Why would she? All roads lead back to you.
#it's messy it's lovable it's conceptual#but at least I finished it#mia winters x reader#mia winters x mc#mia x mc#resident lover#resident lover spoilers#mia winters#reader insert#there are a lot of tidbits that didn't make it in because they didn't match the vibes of memories well enough#but good insp for future stuff
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[CN] MLQC’s Lucien Ice Flowers Date English Translation
⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️
This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~
Lyric Poetry Free SSR Event | Prologue+Day 1-3 | Day 4-6 | Day 7-9 | Day 10-12 | Day 13 (Ice Flowers Date)
[T/N: before reading the date, please read the prologue and event first. they're pretty short, plus the date references the event a lot and will make more sense with the event.]
✂———————–
✧ [Subbed Video Ver - Turn On CC!] ✧
youtube
✂———————–
✧ [Transcript Ver] ✧
—[Part 1]— Video Timestamp: [00:02]
The sound of the alarm clock wakes me up from my dream.
There is a faint sound of drizzling rain outside the window. I squint and glance at the dark and gloomy sky leaking through the gap in the curtains, then turn around to snuggle up to the soft warmth beside me.
MC: Lucien... the alarm is ringing…
My brain is reluctant to kick into gear, so I let instinct take over, wrapping myself around Lucien like a koala clinging to a tree.
Strands of my hair are gently teased by his breath, carrying a hint of nasal sound as it grazes past my ear.
Lucien: Do you want to get up now?
MC: Let me lie down a bit longer…
I bury myself deeper into Lucien's embrace, and a trace of warmth falls onto the tip of my ear.
(🥺 he's pecking her ear)
Lucien: But this Miss specifically instructed me last night to wake you up on time today to find the last specimen material.
Lucien: Do you plan to postpone the plan?
Memories struggle to surface in my mind, and I bury my head deeper in embarrassment.
MC: How about... ten more minutes?
He laughs softly, his hand gently patting my shoulder. Not sure if he's urging me to get up or coaxing me back to sleep.
Lucien: Collecting material shouldn't take that long. You can give yourself a few extra ten minutes.
His nearly indulgent tone makes me snuggle closer to him even more unscrupulously, and I rest my head in the crook of his neck.
MC: Today is perfect for lazing in bed…
Lucien: [hoarsely] After all, the temperature dropped last night, and now it's only four degrees.
Lucien: [whispers] Compared to the cold room, it's indeed more comfortable here.
MC: Hmm...? Wait, four degrees?
I open my eyes in surprise, reaching out to fumble around the bedside table.
MC: Didn't it warm up yesterday?
MC: I specifically loosened the soil in the flowerpots, thinking about planting the seeds I collected...
Lucien leans over me, fetching my phone and considerately opens the weather app.
Lucien: The cold wave is more severe than anticipated. The temperature dropped overnight yesterday. But if today's weather forecast is accurate, it should clear up by noon.
I stare dumbfounded at the plummeting temperatures on the screen. Instinctively, I shrink back into the blankets.
As if he has read my mind, Lucien smiles and tucks the blanket around me, snuggles close to me affectionately, as if he too is a little afraid of the cold.
Lucien: (whispers gently) Since the weather isn't cooperating, we can just stay at home today.
Lucien: I happen to have a few movies I've been wanting to watch with you. We haven't found the right opportunity before, but maybe today is perfect.
He looks at me with a gentle smile, his warm body heat enveloping me along with the soft blanket, inviting me to sink back into the gap between dreams and reality.
✂———————–
—[Part 2]— Video Timestamp: [02:28]
Staying in bed for the entire morning has provided comfort for both body and mind.
As noon approaches, sunlight begins to filter through the overcast clouds, signaling a clearing in the weather. The plan to go out and search for specimens is once again put on the agenda.
MC: Shall we just look around the neighborhood?
Lucien: Sure. Given the weather, there might be another rain shower later.
I retrieve two thick sweaters from the wardrobe, while Lucien brings matching scarves and coats.
This late spring chill is indeed quite fierce.
Despite the increasingly radiant sunlight, we still fully bundle up, and the air remains cold enough that I can't help but huddle close to Lucien.
As I nestle into my scarf, I scan our surroundings in all directions.
Although we're not going too far, I still want to try to find something sufficiently special to mark the end of this collection journey of over ten days.
MC: Those fallen leaves look quite beautiful! But considering we started with leaf specimens on the first day, wouldn't it lack a bit of originality?
Lucien: Hmm, plant specimens already make up a considerable proportion. We should indeed consider materials from other categories.
MC: Should we buy a butterfly specimen material kit to revisit the "original intention" of making specimens?
Lucien: But there's already a butterfly on the display shelf that you praised as special before.
Lucien: [with a hint of grievance in his tone] If your attention is taken by other similar specimens, it will hurt its heart.
The person next to me deliberately reveals a slightly distressed expression, yet he softly raises the corner of his lips.
Remembering the butterfly he made with clean and white fish bones, who knows how long it took him. I can't help but laugh and pull him away from the neighborhood.
MC: Let's go check out other places and seek some new inspiration!
Unfortunately, even after we leave the neighborhood, the situation hasn't changed much.
We went to our usual café, and took a stroll in the bookstore, but apart from getting a rosy nose from the cold, we came back empty-handed.
Seeing that it's about to drizzle again, I thought today's search might come to an end. However, Lucien quickly takes a couple of steps and leads me into the convenience store on the street.
The warm air, mixed with the aroma of cooked food, instantly dispels the cold from outside, like a small campfire amid a concrete jungle.
I relax my shoulders, which had tensed up from the cold, and lean in close to him as we walk to the counter, picking out a few skewers of fish balls, radishes, and other items for a warm hotpot.
MC: Convenience stores truly are an important part of the city…
MC: They provide warmth in winter, coolness in summer, and offer coffee and boxed meals for every working folks.
Lucien: It also serves as a resting spot for the little explorer who's been searching for a long time.
I hear the sound of a payment code being scanned. When I turn around, I see him grabbing two hot chocolate from the hot beverage section.
Lucien: Sugar helps activate the brain, encouraging people to make better decisions.
Lucien: After searching for so long without making a decision, do you have any particular thoughts about today's collection item?
He hands me one of the hot drinks, gesturing for me to sit at the bar table. Those calm eyes of his seem to have already seen through all of my thoughts.
I wrap my hands around the warm package, sipping the hot chocolate slowly, one gulp at a time.
The mild taste of milk softens the richness of chocolate, and the lingering sweetness dances on my lips and tongue. Normally, it might seem a bit too sweet, but at this moment, it tastes just right.
Perhaps because I’m back in a comfortable environment, the emotions that were lingering in my heart melt into the faint background noise, escaping from my lips with a shallow sigh.
MC: Do you think I'm too fixated on the idea of the "last specimen"?
MC: I always feel like what I find isn't special enough, and in the end, I come back empty-handed, spending the whole morning in the cold breeze for nothing.
The light rain pitter-patters on the window, leaving long streaks of water behind.
Lucien also opens his hot chocolate, speaking softly.
Lucien: Although it may require more time and effort, I believe this kind of perfectionism is also an indispensable part of life.
Lucien: Since these specimens capture fragments of our lives, I'm not willing to compromise when it comes to matters related to you either.
A light and tender curve graces his lips as he reaches out to re-tie my scarf, forming a neat and beautiful knot.
Lucien: Moreover, better options might unexpectedly cross our paths in the future.
Lucien: Just like the surprises you've brought me time and time again.
He rubs my hair.
Lucien: So, stay with me a little longer on this road to the future.
I smile at him, then half seriously point to the convenience store loyalty card that came with the bill after he paid.
MC: If we still haven't found the right collectable by the end of today, let's turn this into a specimen.
MC: Let's use the blank squares to remind me that better things always await us in the future.
✂———————–
—[Part 3]— Video Timestamp: [06:35]
Returning in the afternoon, we add a new stamp to our loyalty card, and in our hands are snacks and drinks bought from the convenience store.
I was about to turn on the air conditioner when Lucien seemed to recall something and asked me to wait for a moment.
After a thorough search in the storage room, he brought in a small tea table with a built-in birdcage-shaped heater.
MC: What is this...? How did I not notice that we had something like this at home before?
Lucien: It's a gift from when the Bioultima Research Institute purchased machinery before.
Lucien: Thinking that you might enjoy the atmosphere of ‘gathering around a fire’ together, I stored it in the storage room. Finally, I have the chance to use it this time.
MC: What kind of machinery comes with a small heater as a gift?
Two completely unrelated things being connected caught me off guard for a moment.
Lucien: It’s from the manufacturers who provide constant-temperature incubators.
Lucien: During that period, they planned to expand their product line and started making electric blankets and heaters.
MC: Pfft…
I couldn't help but chuckle as I watched Lucien shrug his shoulders, plugging in the heater. I lay out a cozy "nest" with a blanket and waved him over to join me in one corner.
MC: Please step into the trap~
Lucien: I'm more than happy to fall into this trap.
He brought another blanket, further reinforcing our little corner.
The knob turns, and the heater lights up with an orange glow. The surrounding slightly damp and chilly air gradually warms up, becoming fluffy and cozy.
MC: Not bad, not bad. Indeed, it reflects the "scientific research standard"~ And using a small heater for warmth is much more romantic than turning on the air conditioner.
Under the blanket, I embrace his arm, his body temperature more comforting than the heater and snugly pressed against my side, we're all wrapped up tight under this flowery blanket.
MC: Since the heater comes with a small tea table, should we grab some things and warm them a bit?
MC: There's probably some oranges and snacks at home, and do we still have a big half-bottle of rice wine in the fridge?
Lucien: Mm. Besides the rice wine, there should be a jar of dried osmanthus in the kitchen cabinet.
MC: Sounds good!
I nod in satisfaction, already able to imagine how enticing this tea spread will be. Even the placement of each item is meticulously arranged in my mind, perfect in every detail.
Lucien: Aren't you going to get them?
Lucien's voice, tinged with confusion, pulls me back from the fragrant reverie to reality.
I sheepishly lift my head and stick out my tongue at him.
MC: It takes courage to face the cold head-on, and it also requires a bit of determination and time.
As I speak, I purposely blink at him and put on a pitiful expression.
MC: Or... could Professor Lucien do me a small favor?
Lucien: Well, that's a bit tricky. I'm reluctant to leave such a comfortable spot myself.
MC: Huh?
My tactic of being coquettish totally bombed, making me blink in a bit of surprise.
The gentle laughter ripples through the confined space. Under the blanket, he tightens his embrace around me, and with a sudden force, he lifts me to my feet.
Lucien: [whispers playfully] Since neither of us wants to leave the warmth of the blanket, why don't we just go together?
The blanket securely wraps us together as he takes slow steps forward, allowing me to move along with his stride.
His body warmth seeps through the fabric and onto my skin, providing a comforting warmth but this closeness also makes us stumble in our movements.
MC: We can't walk with you like this.
I laugh and try to poke him as usual, but almost lose my balance. With Lucien's quick eyes, his agile hands swiftly pull me back into his arms.
Lucien: For safety's sake, it's better if we stick together and move in unison.
He candorly spoke the childish suggestion, and as he looks into my eyes, they are sparkling with a bright smile.
I've always been helpless against him when he's like this, so I simply hug him tightly, raising a smile on my face.
MC: Then I'll take the lead~
MC: Left foot, right foot, left, right....
He cooperatively sways left and right with my "commands" as we move forward together.
The distance that was usually just a few steps away is lengthened as our body rubs against each other. Our laughter warms the blanket that gently brushes against our cheeks.
We move and drag our way slowly to the kitchen, teasingly hindering each other as we attempt to get the rice wine, fruits, and dried osmanthus.
With silent understanding, we wrap ourselves snugly in the blankets once again, nestling and rubbing against each other, as we slowly make our way back to the heater.
He doesn't release this prolonged hug until we both settle onto the sofa.
MC: It feels like you're exceptionally clingy today.
Lucien: [in husky tone] To ensure ample warmth, it's only natural to diligently protect the heat source.
MC: [laughs] Hmph, that's nonsense!
Although I say this, I happily share my body warmth with him, finding a more comfy spot as I lie down on his chest.
Snacks are placed on the tea table, carefully and slowly warmed. The mildly sweet aroma of heated rice wine mixes with the scent of osmanthus and citrus.
Lucien reaches out for a book, while I shelter inside his embrace and swipe my cell phone, allowing tranquility to sink and float along with the warm air in the room as we comfortably mind our own bussiness.
Occasionally, I take a few pastries and snacks to share with him, or pour two cups of rice wine. The delicate sound of clinking cups accompanies the smooth fragrance of the wine before it glides down our throats.
People are always particularly prone to indulging in sweet moments.
Whether it's the rhythmic flipping of book pages or the gradually equalizing frequency of sound in videos, my consciousness becomes entranced without me realizing it.
I don't know when I fell asleep, I just remember having a peaceful dream while wrapped in soft, cloud-like fabric.
As I stretch and yawn, I hear a soft voice coming from my side.
Lucien: Good Afternoon.

I look in his direction.
The late afternoon sun has sprinkled over the entire living room as if the previous cold and gloom were things of the distant past.
Amid all warmth and tranquility, beams of light shine generously and cordially, outlining his figure and casting a soft glow around him like a veil.
Lucien lazily props his hand against his face, the corners of his eyes and eyebrows gently curved into a soft arc.
The heater raised the indoor temperature, and his shirt was unbuttoned, showing off a lot of skin on his chest.
The blanket that was wrapped around him remains dutifully covering his body, cocooning him in coziness.
Everything is spread out in the sunlight, casting a sepia tone reminiscent of old movies.
Lucien: Why so quiet, are you still not fully awake yet?
He stretches out his fingers and waves them in front of my eyes.
MC: I'm already awake.
MC: I just woke up and was immediately greeted by a sight that delights the eye and warms the heart; I can't help but want to look at it a little longer.
I hook my fingers around his, letting the strands of my hair cascading over my shoulders slide down my back with the motion.
Lucien: Although I'd love to continue admiring you in front of me, I'm afraid I need to break this distance for now.
The unexpected answer left me momentarily stunned, just staring dazedly at him as his eyes unabashedly revealed a hint of grievance.
Lucien: You've been resting on my leg this whole time. I didn't dare to change positions at will.
Lucien: But it's really starting to feel numb.
MC: Pfft... You could've woken me up too, you know!
[a big fox who deliberately shows off his chest just to enjoy his lover’s stunned look and still uses the chance to openly ‘grieve’ as if he’s being ‘wronged’ pfft]
✂———————–
—[Part 4]— Video Timestamp: [13:14]
The rice wine is still warm, and there's still half a box of snacks left.
Sweetness fills the entire space, and I let out a contented sigh as I pour a small cup of rice wine for both him and myself.
As I taste the wine, my gaze curiously falls on the screen of Lucien's computer—there's a paper that seems a bit beyond my grasp, and beside him, there's also a book with specimen illustrations.
MC: What book are you reading?
Lucien: Literature on specimen preparation.
Lucien: Among the specimens we've made recently, the less conventional ones seem to make up the majority.
Lucien: Since there's such an opportunity, why not take the chance to brush up on some relevant professional knowledge?
MC: As expected of you! So, what has our Great Professor learned?
Lucien: I realized that my understanding of specimens may have some misconceptions.
He sets aside the computer and pulls me into his arms, flipping to a page in the book with illustrations of plant specimens, and starts to speak.
Lucien: In the field of collection, the significance of specimens mostly lies in preserving a particular moment of life forms, much like taking a photograph or recording a video.
Lucien: It can be understood as a record of the past.
Lucien: But from the perspective of scientific research, it mostly serves the research and analysis of relevant topics.
MC: From what it sounds like, it actually seems more like some kind of reserve for the future, doesn't it?
The person behind me nods and gently rubs his chin against the strands of hair on top of my head.
His scent, mingled with the fragrance of alcohol, fills my nostrils, as I attentively "listen" to his lecture, yet greedily rub against his neck.
Lucien: The side branches we prune from the hydrangea will encourage more lush growth, and perhaps the seeds you've brought will sprout someday in the future.
Lucien: There are still many spaces left on the loyalty card waiting for us to fill.
Lucien: Compared to keeping records, it seems that our collection shelf has also unconsciously left many expectations for the future.
Lucien: I should also learn from these specimens to find the presence in life that will make you pay attention…
There's a dark undercurrent in his eyes that lures me to delve deeper, as if there’s a river flowing with honey, making me willingly and wholeheartedly drown in it.
Lucien: Then I'll put what I've learned into practice, and bring back home even more things that can make my little lady happy.
Lucien: And not to end up like today, "spending the whole morning in the cold breeze for nothing”.
A speck of warmth touches the tip of my nose, bringing back memories of the cold, wind-filled morning.
Not to be outdone, I pinch his earlobe. The blanket slowly moved, causing the book originally placed on me to fall to the ground.
MC: I thought you were going to announce some groundbreaking scientific discovery, how did we end up here?
Lucien ignores the fallen book and just grabs my wrist with his free hand, then firmly holds it with his fingers.
Our already close distance is further reduced, and I can almost feel his breath brushing past my lips.
Maybe it's from knocking back too much rice wine, but the heart pounding in the chest is loud and clear in my ears, yet I can't tell if it's his beat or mine.
Lucien: I thought this conclusion hit the nail on the head.
Lucien: After all, it's only through practical application that theory can truly prove its worth.
Our breath intertwines and circulates with each exhale and inhale, floating amidst the gaps of beautiful dreams, as the light, airy sense of haziness envelops my body once again.
I simply lean forward, closing the last bit of distance between us, and affectionately kiss his cheek.
MC: But for me, what leads me to look forward to the future is neither memories nor specimens.
MC: Rather, it's you.
His long eyelashes resemble the antennae of a butterfly, trembling ever so slightly as if confirming something, casting an alluring look.
MC: You gave me a hot chocolate, a little heater for warming the rice wine, a warm blanket, blank loyalty cards...
MC: And there's also an exceptionally clingy Professor Lucien.
MC: [smiles widely] It's you who brought romance and anticipation into my life.
Lucien's breath momentarily hitches, and then a warm sigh flows out from his lips.
Lucien: Then let's leave the last space on the shelf empty, we'll make this sense of anticipation our final collection. And together, let's wait for the next wave of happiness to arrive.
MC: Sure, leaving it blank does add a poetic touch.
Following my heart's desire, I kiss his eyelids. The gentle kisses and embraces weave a finely knit yet dense web, slowly making us fall into a light trance.
We enjoy the blurry and dizzying moment peacefully until a faint pattern on the window catches my eye in the hazy light.
I look towards the windowsill and find a delicate pattern drawn by ice crystals as if it were a fragment left behind by winter.
Lucien: What's wrong?
Sensing my distraction, Lucien softly pinches the nape of my neck, attempting to bring back my attention to what we were doing.
MC: I've discovered a happiness that has arrived unexpectedly.
MC: Lucien, look, there's an ice flower on the window.
With a smile, I break away from his embrace and casually pick up the book that had fallen aside for a long time, handing it back to him.
Lucien's gaze falls on that place, a hint of astonishment lighting up his dark eyes, which are even more touching than the view on the window.
MC: I didn't expect to see ice flowers. I'm starting to quite like today's cold air.
The gaze that had captivated me suddenly shifts, and the only thing reflected in those eyes is me, gazing back at him just as deeply.
Lucien: Then let's seize it.
His large hand covers the back of my hand, guiding me as our hands slowly glide along the window together.
The tips of his fingers seemed to shine with a faint, unnoticeable light.
Before I can ponder over it, starting from the point that we touched, ice crystals spread from the windowsill towards the center, spreading out into feather-like patterns.
I forget to breathe for a moment.
He continues guiding my movements until the entire window is covered with exquisite patterns we've drawn together.
MC: So beautiful!
I throw myself into his arms, my hands instinctively wrapping around his shoulders.
The tiny fragments transform into graceful patterns covering the entire window, imprinting the intertwined warmth and cold, weaving a flower that belongs only to winter in the spring.
I've heard that ice flowers on windows, just like snowflakes, each have their own unique shapes.
The beauty captured by him must indeed be a mark that belongs solely to him.
Lucien: Is this "material" enough to become our final specimen and deepen your anticipation for the future?
With a faint smile, he pulls the curtains further apart, allowing this scenery to be fully displayed before us.
MC: There won't be a better specimen than this!
MC: Thank you for personally "capturing" the future in front of me.
I tilt my head up and place a kiss on the side of Lucien's face, unable to suppress the smile at the corners of my lips.
MC: In that case, I'll try to give you more "now" as a gift in return.
A pair of slender eyes gently curve, quietly awaiting the words I'm about to say.
MC: I'm not as amazing as you, who is always able to see so far ahead...
MC: Always able to move forward with such determination, turning that mere anticipation of the future into reality, surprising me time and time again.
MC: But just like today, I can find various little sceneries around us.
MC: And then tell you, "Lucien, look, a flower is blooming over there."
The cold light outside the window filters through layers of ice crystals, refracting into tiny iridescent rainbows, and melting into his warm and flowing gaze.
A kiss, like an answer, lands on the corner of my lips, letting me taste a sweetness sweeter than all the drinks and refreshments in the world.
Lucien: [hoarsely] After experiencing happiness, people will naturally have expectations for the future.
Lucien: [x2] They’ll have the desire to relive the experiences they once had, again and again, or seek other happiness they haven’t yet experienced.
Lucien: [x3] But now, I feel that, compared to the distant future, the present moment is even more touching.
Lucien's lowered voice sounds a bit hoarse, reminding me of a big fox's subtle purring when it's in a pleasant mood.
Lucien: [x4!] After all, in the face of the immediate beauties, all hypotheses about expectations will seem too illusory.
Lucien: For example, the ice flower that bloomed in this window because of your attention.
The hand embracing my waist intimately confines me, and it feels as if the temperature inside the room has heated up again.
Lucien: And another example is you.
The heater emits heat that makes people cling to the warmth, and all the wonderful scents I can think of are blending and surrounding me.
Spring has just begun, and there are still many good days ahead.
✂———————–
#PURRING BIG FOX#yes they impliedly make love and he was a bit disatissfied that she got distracted LOL#when i said that physical touch is lucien's main love lang I MEAN THIS they're soo clingy#anyway i usually wrote afterwords#but imo the date is already really clear abt the theme so i didn't#mlqc lucien#mr love queen's choice#mlqc cn#mlqc spoiler#mlqc#mlqc translation#mr. love queen's choice#mr love lucien#mlqc xu mo#mlqc spoilers
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So I'm thinking this will be the first of many entries where I discuss some of my writing. I've been re-reading some older chapters of Chimayoi for future editing & thought it might help with my own process to document my reflections & intentions for future reference.
This commentary will concern Arisa's (the MC) past relationship with Jasha, another OC of mine.
tw: toxic relationship (to put it very mildly).
There may also be light spoilers for Chimayoi if you squint, just in the way I will be discussing things on a meta level.
Jasha × Arisa – A Closer Look
Jasha's backstory has always been tricky for me, just in determining what is fitting to show and not to show. He has evolved tremendously since my original draft (which portrayed him as a cardboard cutout of a villain - the physically abusive drunkard archetype more specifically) partially due to my desire to inject more nuance into his past as a traumatized Summit War veteran, but also because I wanted to frame his and Arisa's split in a drastically different light than I originally intended.
Jasha projects heavily onto Arisa even before their first official encounter, incidentally having seen her for the first time in the midst of one of the darkest moments in his life:
[I thought] back to the couple at the bar. The beautiful silver-haired girl and that Marine. I wondered fleetingly what they must be up to right now... They were probably having a good time doing all the typical things couples are supposed to do. Drinking and dancing and holding hands and hanging out with friends and laughing at each others stupid jokes. Or maybe they had gone back home and were enjoying each other’s company. I thought about that too and felt even more ashamed. Jealous. Those two had appeared so normal, so refined and well put together. People like that were strong enough to make living look easy. They both probably had their troubles, every relationship does, but at least neither of them was as broken and burdensome as I was.
ch. 17 - to love an outcast
The irony ofc is how he is unaware that they are more alike than not, both being former child soldiers and in recovery from a traumatic injury, which is hinted at in a later journal entry:
[Arisa] is getting over some health issues & her family had sent her here with the hopes that a change of scenery would help in her recovery...
ch. 19 - unforgiven
Even before they properly meet, the seeds are sown: he ascribes to her a sense of 'normalcy' which just doesn't exist. This disconnect will only grow throughout their time together.
Checkered history aside, Arisa had seemed to be a nice girl. She wasn’t nearly as spirited as Misa or sociable like Teru, but she was smart and hardworking and responsible. Anson had thought she was exactly the sort of partner Jasha needed, to keep him grounded and prevent him from embracing his most self-destructive tendencies.
ch. 17 - to love an outcast
Anson's recollections hint that Jasha continued to project his need for stability onto Arisa after they became a couple. This is true, and such a tendency becomes very toxic after he is incapacitated in the Summit War. She, in turn, never able to resolve her guilt of losing her teammates in the Saboady Incident, is determined to stick by him even as he spirals into deeper depression and alcoholism (the "I can fix him" mentality cranked up to eleven). In their self-loathing, both feel as though they don't fully deserve the other, and this manifests in ugly ways.
For him, it leads to insecurity and paranoia.
INVESTIGATOR: Did you ever cheat on him? WITNESS: (shakes head; barely audible) No. INVESTIGATOR: Okay. (flips page) Did he ever accuse you of it? WITNESS : (silence) INVESTIGATOR: Because I have it here in my notes - Dr. Minerva’s report - that he was… WITNESS: Stop. Please just - INVESTIGATOR - that he was very suspicious of you having an affair. He never confronted you about that?
ch. 14 - second opinion
For her, guardedness and latent resentment, the latter of which is not shown until she is pushed to her breaking point.
DETAINEE: I know that I should have died back there. It’s what a monster like me deserves. VISITOR: (sobs) VISITOR: No. (deep breath) You aren’t a monster, Jasha. DETAINEE: (ragged breathing) VISITOR: I’ve dealt with monsters. You aren’t a monster. You aren’t anything as formidable as that. You’re a coward. [...] The thought of living paralyzes you and makes you scared and miserable. There isn’t anything remotely noble or sensational about it.
ch. 18 - we never learned to say goodbye
And in her ignorance of why he is the way he is, she is always left with this overly simplistic interpretation of him, one painted with a sympathetic bias - that he is soft by nature, too tormented and gentle and good to handle the weight of her past sins.
"You… You’re still hurting, right? I can see it in your face. Why won’t you tell me the cause of your torment? Even after all these years…do you still not trust me?"
ch. 18 - we never learned to say goodbye
This is the tragedy: had Jasha lived, his and Arisa's relationship would not have worked... because they are never quite able to see each other for who they really are. They both are heavily damaged individuals who love each other whilst hating themselves. In their self-hatred, they denigrate themselves & put the other on a pedestal, blinding themselves to the reality of their shared struggles. Their love is raw and hungry and self-sacrificial at times... but it isn't enough. It won't ever be enough. Because a worshipper won't ever stand on equal footing with their god. That self imposed distance will breed animosity. It will - and does - lead to ruin.
#fic: CMY#one piece oc#oc writing#one piece fanfiction#kageyu: thoughts#oc: murasaki arisa#oc: jasha#one piece original character#one piece#fanfic writing#fanfic authors#rambling about my ocs#oc x oc#oc x canon#oc analysis#oc lore#writing thoughts#cmy meta#fic commentary#long post
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Sorry Ren/Redacted (actually not sorry), how could I love and be with you when I have Mer Ren? Look at him, he's so squishy and soft and says 'plz' and 'yoo' and gives me all the fish and shells I want. He's also packing double if you know what I mean. *lipbite*
✦゜ANSWERED: For a bit of context, Winndy is the CEO and creator of Mer Ren, and there's even a discord bot with silly lil prompts dedicated to him!! They're meant to come across like Mer Ren is texting you (or at least, trying to), which is why he sometimes uses "plz" and "yoo" ^^
Also just a small note: there's going to be slight 14DWY spoilers/references that allude to Ren's bad end if you squint hard enough!! This also isn't proofread because I need to stay on brand hehe
"Is... Is that what you want? W-Would it make you happy?" There's a hint of sadness laced within his tone before Ren's bittersweet expression turns into a fabricated smile. So... you've already moved on from the Haruko hyperfixation and wanted something more fishy?
Consider it done.
Ren would've walked to the ends of the earth if you asked him to. Hell, he'd even rip out his own heart and put it on a platter if it brought a smile to your face. There was nothing he wouldn't do to make you happy, and if altering parts of himself was necessary, then he'd do it without any hesitation.
But it was altering your memory that had him second-guessing his actions.
Shaking his head to steel his thoughts, Ren offers you one last look of reassurance before he takes a step back and closes his eyes. And just like that fateful day when you met him in the library, you can only stand there helplessly as reality begins to flicker, bend, and glitch around the both of you.
But just when you thought you were getting accustomed to the unfamiliar feeling surrounding you; a blinding white light envelopes your vision as you feel everything snap back into place.
Blinking once, twice, then once more, you notice that everything remained much the same as you remembered, except...
Wait.
Did Ren always have dark hair and wide, beady eyes? Has that jellyfish-like bell cape always sat atop his pale, purple shoulders? And since when were you inside a dimly lit bioluminescent grotto?
You're pulled away from your thoughts when Ren — your Ren, you remembered; who you rescued from a tangled mess of netting all those years ago — reaches a webbed hand towards your face to gently cup your cheek. That very same bittersweet smile rests on his countenance as you watch it slowly morph into that of melancholy, turmoil, and finally, dedication.
Well, it seems that just a single glance at your awed expression was more than enough to calm Ren's racing thoughts and put his mind at ease.
"...Happy now, yes? You'll stay here with Ren forever? Please?" Ren's voice comes out hoarse (almost like he wasn't used to talking in your language) as his other webbed hand moves to rest on your arm and anchor you close to him — though you knew you could easily brush it off if you really wanted to.
"Ren—" A shake of his head, "Your Ren will always make you happy! Ren promises! So stay here forever and ever and ever! ...Please."
#ren went from being a golden retriever bf to a whole fish#also hello winndy i'm eating sushi rn <3#💌 — answered.#💖 — about ren.#💜 — 14dwy AU.#🖤 — sai writes.#💖 — 14 days with queue.
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I'm actively putting on my tinfoil hat as we speak but... the more Zeno plays up the whole 'Oh Hunter and Willow Are Such Good Friends' on twitter the more I think we have a big Huntlow Confirmed Romantic moment still to come in the last special. I feel like he's trolling just for fun but also because he knows there's only a limited amount of time he can plausibly say 'uwu just friends!' about them and he's milking it.
I will always respect and appreciate those who fight the good tinfoil hat fight. My own personal reading on all of this is that it confirms that the finger link WAS the big Huntlow Confirmed Romantic moment. Because I feel like that's why Zeno keeps milking the "friendship :)" joke. Because it is very obviously not. And he's never gonna stop saying it. Cuz it's funny as hell.
He made the joke sparingly over the months before FTF aired when the canon content consisted of Hunter blushing and Willow going feral when he was threatened. But he's really amped it up now that more stuff has happened.
Like I was very much in the opinion that, depending on if you squint or not, the finger thing could be interpreted as ambiguous. Maybe. Possibly. Then as soon as the episode aired, he went and said this shit.

Which I consider as good a confirmation as any lmao. No platonic intent behind this scene whatsoever. It's explicitly romantic.
Zeno has also been very funny because he'll say shit like "what is huntlow? Is that a band? Do they have good songs?" and then rt art of them smooching in the same breath. He's liked and rted art of them before, though he was kinda cryptic about it. Removing it within an hour. It's as if somebody contacted him like "Hey!! Spoilers!! Cut that out!!"
This led to people turning his huntlow teasing into a bit of a meme, something he happily leaned into. Like he knew everyone else knew that something was going on with those little guys. But he was still not allowed to talk about it. So he was all "They're friends :)", knowing everybody got what he was putting down. Now he's apparently been given the okay to post about it, considering all the art rts, their relationship is no longer considered "spoilers" apparently, he's teasing about dubbing over a comic where Hunter refers to Willow as his girlfriend, like??? The man is fully free. He's been set loose. Huntlow is as canon as canon can be. I don't personally think his "advanced friendship" gag is hinting at anything bigger still to come. I think he's just committed to the bit. Man's got jokes.
But yeah I honestly see FTF as a "wrap" on Huntlow, the same way Hooty's door was a "wrap" on Lumity. In the same vein that Dana started posting and rting explicitly romantic Lumity art only after Hooty's door aired, she only interacted with Huntlow art after FTF. (Most notably stuff that was captioned "they're canon now") Like Zeno made a few slip ups but Dana never did. She's very careful about the art she interacts with, because people are quick to take her liking art as official creator approval and sometimes take it too far. So like. Huntlow canon bro. Huntlow painfully canon. They're officially established now. That's a wrap, folks.
Not that Huntlow's sweet little love story is over. Just like Lumity wasn't over after they were established. However, Lumity asked each other out at a somewhat low stakes point in the series. They had a little while to breathe and adjust as a newly formed teenage relationship. They got to have their silly little honeymoon phase and we got to see a glimpse into their mundane but adorable slice of life transition into girlfriends.
Meanwhile, Huntlow doesn't really have that privilege. They established themselves during a high stakes climax. They don't really have time to sit down and talk about this any further. Judging by whatever the Collector triggered at the end of the episode, they're probably gonna be more preoccupied with staying alive than entertaining thoughts about the fact that they're kinda sorta dating now.
Stuff's definitely gonna happen. I imagine they'll be joined at the hip over the course of WAD (possibly separated for plot related reasons and might be overly sentimental when they part ways and/or reunite.) If we get a breather or two throughout the ep, maybe they can flirt or hold hands or something dumb like that. Maybe some stuff linking them to Caleb and Evelyn. Idk if they're smooching. I seriously doubt it. I don't really believe we're getting any kind of kiss in the next special but a silly little cheek smooch like lumity in follies isn't unlikely. I could see it.
But yeah. I don't believe we're getting a bigger and grander romantic moment than the finger link, but I think we're gonna get a bunch of little ones instead. They don't have a lot of time to be cringe but I think they're gonna take advantage of every available moment to be complete losers for each other. I believe in them.
#i love you ''advanced friendship'' joke#but i miss ''or maybe willow?''#MR ROBINSON PLEASE BRING BACK OR MAYBE WILLOW
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Wayfaring Stranger
warnings/notes: implied deaths and many, many timeloops from birth to death and bodily disfigurement, hints at suicidal tendencies if you really squint hard, game spoilers but rlly it’s hinted at the beginning at the game so not really, reader is Sol but still will be written as Y/N, y'all this game has me hook line and sinker I need to write for it starting nyow.
heavily inspired by the song Wayfaring Stranger popularized by the movie 1917, because to me that song is Sol, the game’s player character. Drifting through many pasts, constants, and even more futures, all while losing so much while so young, yet gaining much more, the only moment’s reprieve being the time of their passing, only to look forward to the journey onto the next past, present, and future. Sym’s POV and alt!au(Dys doesn’t meet Sym), written very differently than the game because I’m jealous of Dys, and Sym falls in love with reader first before Dys(likewise for Dys) Sym+DysxReader
Currently only writing for Dys and Sym! They’re the characters I know best as of writing this i have a thing for tdh 😀 there’s also the possibility of me crossing over BNHA into this fandom bc i may or may not have many ideas sitting in the back of my head--
Underage characters are Aged Up!
It’s the final nail in the coffin for Sym when he hears Reader singing by sheer chance. He falls in love.
You were an oddity among the humans. Only a short time after you and the others crashed, did he see a short human-a child, the taller ones referred to you as-braving outside your ridiculous constructs. And it wasn't long before another shorter one followed suit. You preferred all-around nature’s colors and he preferred ones from Glow season. Dys, you called him, while in turn, he called you Y/N. A name so beautiful, and so familiar…he’s dreamed of you, quite literally.
For some time, he’d watch over you two, watching you two grow closer to adulthood; curious, stubborn little wonders. You grew in similar likeness to the grass in the plains, each passing year creating things within him he’d not felt before, or for a very, very long time. He found himself trying to negotiate your survival, more and more as time went by.
While out fulfilling your curiosities, he found you’d taken to humming to yourself.
“I am a poor wayfaring stranger,”
A bewitching melody of melancholy; sadness and acceptance for the inevitable.
“I'm traveling through this world of woe,”
It wasn’t until now, by sheer chance…
“Yet there's no sickness, toil nor danger,”
He found you singing to yourself, in desolation. You found this area for yourself, seasons ago;
“In that bright land to which I go.”
There was an unspoken promise between you and your other half, Dys. You both respected each other's boundaries, but yet there seemed to be a sixth sense in each of you for the other.
“I'm going there to see my father,”
If one was in need, the other would find and comfort them. Like this, it wasn’t long before Dys, too, was pulled by you.
“I'm going there, no more to roam.”
He recognized Dys’ pained expression. And it gave a pang in his chest, too. In some far off dimension within his dreams, he saw you in a beautiful glade…your form marred for life, so desolate, but still filled with so much hope.
“I'm only going over Jordan,”
He had an inkling that you, too, had the power of foresight. To say you two were attached by the hands wouldn’t necessarily be a lie; after all, one or the other would be led on for most of the time you spent exploring.
“I'm only going over home…”
Sometimes, you’d stop Dys from going on a path; and through his connection with Vertumna, he’d find either the presence of danger, or nothing at all.
“I know dark clouds will gather round me,”
A bewitching melody of melancholy, sadness, acceptance…
“I know my way is rough and steep,”
But yet, at the same time, of hope and conviction.
“But golden fields lie just before me,”
Faith that soon, everything will end…
“Where God's redeemed shall ever sleep…”
…even if just momentarily.
“I'm going home to see my mother,”
“Sym?” he hears Dys whisper, fiddling with the grass, having found a comfortable spot to give you your space. He finds himself slightly surprised, but if it was you who told Dys about him, then it’d make sense the young man just barely out of his teens knows of his existence.
“And all my loved ones who've gone on…”
They hear your voice crack. Sym hears your breath waver. “They just lost their dad…” Dys didn’t seem particularly sad-just understanding. “Again, they said.”
“I'm only going over Jordan,”
“They were the first to understand me. To believe me. It’s only right that I do the same.” Dys says, leaning back on his palms. “Sym?” he calls again.
“I'm only going over home.”
Your voice dips off, into soft hums. They fill the area in melancholy, for what feels like an eternity.
“Will it ever end?” Dys asks. He knew what Dys was asking. Will your pain ever end? He warps silently into the area behind Dys. You humans are so emotional, Sym swears, it’s contagious. “There’s no way to know. The universe is vast, petal.” he tells Dys, recognizing sadness in his own voice. Dys snorts, “They said something similar.” before craning his head to get a better look at his towering form. “You’re famous, you know that?” Dys says. He chuckles, smiling sweetly. Dys simply rolls his eyes, before standing up. “They talk so much about you, even I like you…” the ravenette mutters almost begrudgingly under his breath, patting off imaginary dust before turning, unperturbed by the difference in height, reaching out his hand. He stares at the offered hand. “Well?” Dys pipes up impatiently, “Don’t you wanna meet them?” waving his hand a few times.
He can’t help but smile, remembering a distant memory from a distant past as he reaches out, allowing himself to be led to you.
“Y/N!” Dys calls with his own form of enthusiasm, “Guess who I finally caught. Told you I’d do it one day!” making you turn.
Your torso was mangled by decade old scars, and you were missing an eye, an arm and a leg, supported by contraptions; one to lean on, and one to replace your leg. “Sym! Dys!” dream you called out, full of joy as they approached.
The current you, who exists right now, simply bounds towards them, arms outstretched.
“I love you.” dream you sighs, leaning into their embrace.
You giggle tearily, latching awkwardly onto them due to your differences in height. Dys goes red and tenses right up, “Y-You--! You’re too much sometimes, you know that?” sputtering at the impact. He’s somewhat used to it, it appears, as he softens up a little. “Geez…love you, too.” he huffs, bashfully.
So that’s the fluttering in his chest? Love. Love. It’s love.
That has a nice ring to it, he smiles. Yes...he's in love with you.
#i was a teenage exocolonist#teenage exocolonist#teen exo#teen exo sym x reader#teen exo dys x reader#symbiosis x reader#dysthymia x reader#teen exo symbiosis x reader#teen exo dysthymia x reader#wrote this listening to a song#inspo'd by song fic#Spotify
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Wayfaring Stranger
warnings/notes: implied deaths and many, many timeloops from birth to death and bodily disfigurement, hints at suicidal tendencies if you really squint hard, game spoilers but rlly it’s hinted at the beginning at the game so not really, reader is Sol but still will be written as Y/N, y'all this game has me hook line and sinker I need to write for it starting nyow.
heavily inspired by the song Wayfaring Stranger popularized by the movie 1917, because to me that song is Sol, the game’s player character. Drifting through many pasts, constants, and even more futures, all while losing so much while so young, yet gaining much more, the only moment’s reprieve being the time of their passing, only to look forward to the journey onto the next past, present, and future. Sym’s POV and alt!au(Dys doesn’t meet Sym), written very differently than the game because I’m jealous of Dys, and Sym falls in love with reader first before Dys(likewise for Dys) Sym+DysxReader
Currently only writing for Dys and Sym! They’re the characters I know best as of writing this i have a thing for tdh 😀 there’s also the possibility of me crossing over BNHA into this fandom bc i may or may not have many ideas sitting in the back of my head--
Underage characters are Aged Up!
MINORS 👏 DNI! 👏 AGE 👏 IN 👏 BIO 👏 OR 👏 DNI! 👏 Head on over to @candybowbeansies please for my SFW pieces, or be blocked if you interact here! 😇
It’s the final nail in the coffin for Sym when he hears Reader singing by sheer chance. He falls in love.
You were an oddity among the humans. Only a short time after you and the others crashed, did he see a short human-a child, the taller ones referred to you as-braving outside your ridiculous constructs. And it wasn't long before another shorter one followed suit. You preferred all-around nature’s colors and he preferred ones from Glow season. Dys, you called him, while in turn, he called you Y/N. A name so beautiful, and so familiar…he’s dreamed of you, quite literally.
For some time, he’d watch over you two, watching you two grow closer to adulthood; curious, stubborn little wonders. You grew in similar likeness to the grass in the plains, each passing year creating things within him he’d not felt before, or for a very, very long time. He found himself trying to negotiate your survival, more and more as time went by.
While out fulfilling your curiosities, he found you’d taken to humming to yourself.
“I am a poor wayfaring stranger,”
A bewitching melody of melancholy; sadness and acceptance for the inevitable.
“I'm traveling through this world of woe,”
It wasn’t until now, by sheer chance…
“Yet there's no sickness, toil nor danger,”
He found you singing to yourself, in desolation. You found this area for yourself, seasons ago;
“In that bright land to which I go.”
There was an unspoken promise between you and your other half, Dys. You both respected each other's boundaries, but yet there seemed to be a sixth sense in each of you for the other.
“I'm going there to see my father,”
If one was in need, the other would find and comfort them. Like this, it wasn’t long before Dys, too, was pulled by you.
“I'm going there, no more to roam.”
He recognized Dys’ pained expression. And it gave a pang in his chest, too. In some far off dimension within his dreams, he saw you in a beautiful glade…your form marred for life, so desolate, but still filled with so much hope.
“I'm only going over Jordan,”
He had an inkling that you, too, had the power of foresight. To say you two were attached by the hands wouldn’t necessarily be a lie; after all, one or the other would be led on for most of the time you spent exploring.
“I'm only going over home…”
Sometimes, you’d stop Dys from going on a path; and through his connection with Vertumna, he’d find either the presence of danger, or nothing at all.
“I know dark clouds will gather round me,”
A bewitching melody of melancholy, sadness, acceptance…
“I know my way is rough and steep,”
But yet, at the same time, of hope and conviction.
“But golden fields lie just before me,”
Faith that soon, everything will end…
“Where God's redeemed shall ever sleep…”
…even if just momentarily.
“I'm going home to see my mother,”
“Sym?” he hears Dys whisper, fiddling with the grass, having found a comfortable spot to give you your space. He finds himself slightly surprised, but if it was you who told Dys about him, then it’d make sense the young man just barely out of his teens knows of his existence.
“And all my loved ones who've gone on…”
They hear your voice crack. Sym hears your breath waver. “They just lost their dad…” Dys didn’t seem particularly sad-just understanding. “Again, they said.”
“I'm only going over Jordan,”
“They were the first to understand me. To believe me. It’s only right that I do the same.” Dys says, leaning back on his palms. “Sym?” he calls again.
“I'm only going over home.”
Your voice dips off, into soft hums. They fill the area in melancholy, for what feels like an eternity.
“Will it ever end?” Dys asks. He knew what Dys was asking. Will your pain ever end? He warps silently into the area behind Dys. You humans are so emotional, Sym swears, it’s contagious. “There’s no way to know. The universe is vast, petal.” he tells Dys, recognizing sadness in his own voice. Dys snorts, “They said something similar.” before craning his head to get a better look at his towering form. “You’re famous, you know that?” Dys says. He chuckles, smiling sweetly. Dys simply rolls his eyes, before standing up. “They talk so much about you, even I like you…” the ravenette mutters almost begrudgingly under his breath, patting off imaginary dust before turning, unperturbed by the difference in height, reaching out his hand. He stares at the offered hand. “Well?” Dys pipes up impatiently, “Don’t you wanna meet them?” waving his hand a few times.
He can’t help but smile, remembering a distant memory from a distant past as he reaches out, allowing himself to be led to you.
“Y/N!” Dys calls with his own form of enthusiasm, “Guess who I finally caught. Told you I’d do it one day!” making you turn.
Your torso was mangled by decade old scars, and you were missing an eye, an arm and a leg, supported by contraptions; one to lean on, and one to replace your leg. “Sym! Dys!” dream you called out, full of joy as they approached.
The current you, who exists right now, simply bounds towards them, arms outstretched.
“I love you.” dream you sighs, leaning into their embrace.
You giggle tearily, latching awkwardly onto them due to your differences in height. Dys goes red and tenses right up, “Y-You--! You’re too much sometimes, you know that?” sputtering at the impact. He’s somewhat used to it, it appears, as he softens up a little. “Geez…love you, too.” he huffs, bashfully.
So that’s the fluttering in his chest? Love. Love. It’s love.
That has a nice ring to it, he smiles. Yes...he's in love with you.
#i was a teenage exocolonist#teenage exocolonist#teen exo#iwatex#teen exo sym x reader#teen exo dys x reader#symbiosis x reader#dysthymia x reader#teen exo symbiosis x reader#teen exo dysthymia x reader#wrote this listening to a song#inspo'd by song fic#Spotify
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MLQC Season 2 Chapter 12 (Kiro) Part 8 [Lighthouse] & [Gaze of Time] Translation [CN]
***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***
For previous translations of Season 2 Chapter 12: Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7
I combined two parts for this post. Enjoy~
[Lighthouse]
As we stood on the last step, we were only able to see some faint pictures.
The run-down walls looked extremely gloomy and terrible in the endless darkness.
It seems to be much bigger than we thought.
MC: Did we uncover a tomb that hasn’t been dug up? Those tomb raider novels are written like this… ***I’m getting Indiana Jones and Tomb Raider vibes***

Helios: Stay here.
With those few words, Helios walked towards the visible wall in the distance.
MC: Be careful.
I looked around cautiously, walked down the steps carefully and stepped on the ground where Helios was before.
At the same time, a thin golden thread lit up between the floor tiles. It stretched outward like an electric current.


Helios: What are you doing?!

MC: …Taking a step forward?
Helios came back to me in an instant, dragging me onto the transparent steps and looking around with cold eyes.
As the lines of light gradually brighten the building like a pulse, the mysterious symbols on the walls appeared like the eyes of a giant beast slowly opening in the dark.
??: We have been waiting for you for a long time.
??: Welcome to the lighthouse.
Lighthouse? Hearing this unfamiliar word, I froze.
The long synthetic sound came from far away. All the lines began to converge into a certain pattern and rearranged themselves. At the same time, some of the text on the wall gradually disappeared.
In this space constructed entirely of golden light, all the shadows connected with the outline of the sliding lines, forming a peculiar shadow on the dark background—
As if—there is an invisible person standing there.
Helios: It’s a trick.
??: This is a misunderstanding.
The lines swayed slightly with the sound. It looked like…it was politely bowing and I couldn’t help leaning against Helios’ back.

MC: ….Is there someone over there?
Helios: Visual dislocation.
MC: What do you mean?

Helios: It’s just a projection made up of lines of electric currents and light.
Helios: Nothing is there.
He even took out the knife in his hand, approached the “shadow figure”, arrogantly positioned the knife where the neck would be, and swiped vigorously.
However, the blade didn’t touch anything and the “human figure” flickered and transported onto another wall.
??: Signal upload, information has been updated.
??: Enable smart trigger mechanism to ensure information synchronization.
??: Data is uploading….update complete.
The mechanical language doesn’t carry any emotion and there was a “didi” sound at the end of the conversation.
??: Human beings will be full of hostility towards the unknown. This is understandable.
??: Don’t worry, there is nothing in the lighthouse that can hurt you.
??: Of course we will not hurt you, special people. ***It knows about Evolvers but its not referring to them as that term. So were they called something else?***
The amiable electronic voice reverberated in the entire space. At the end of the sentence, there was a completely unintelligible language. ***Like the same unintelligible language that was heard in part 6 of Behind the Curtain?***
The light continues to flow and reorganize, making the “human figure” look like it’s stretching out its hands, signaling to us that there is no threat.
Its outline slowly became bright and thick and the entire “shadow” became clearer.
The accentuated light dispersed into light patterns and text around the area, illuminating the interior of the whole lighthouse.***Changed the wording***
??: It seems that you wandered into the lighthouse by accident but it does not matter.
??: Once again, I welcome you and your companion. I am the lighthouse’s legacy—

??: 19.
I cautiously ran to Helios’ side and pulled his shoulders slightly to reach his ears.
MC: ….Why do I find this scary…
Helios: If you know, don’t mess around.
Helios’ fixed his eyes on the figure. His whole body is tense as if he didn’t believe it.
Helios: There is no value in trusting things that are so cryptic.
??: It does not matter. I have a lot of patience to prove to you that we are not malicious.
??: After all, compared to the time of waiting, this kind of time is nothing.
The “figure” stayed in place quietly. The lines on its body trembling slightly. It gave off the impression of a kind, old man.
I poked my head out from behind Helios.
Helios: You just said this is a lighthouse?
??: Yes.
??: Actually, I want to chat with that girl. Your attitude does not look very good.

MC: ….Pfft.
Seeing the swaying lines, I couldn’t help laughing.
MC: How should I address you as? Is 19 all right?
19: You are so polite and cute, of course you can. Where we are from, you will surely be liked by many people.
Helios: Do people there like to talk so much nonsense?
19: That won’t do.
The originally tense air immediately became alive, wafting with the laughter I tried to restrain.
MC: 19, what is a lighthouse? And you just said that you are the legacy here. What....are you again?
19: I am the residual intelligence waiting to meet you.
MC: ?!
19: As for the lighthouse….
19 slowly raised its hand and the floating patterns of light began to surge, turning into indistinguishable graphics and textures.
On the huge wall behind us, a magnificent and unfamiliar picture formed.
19: These are our remnants.
The pattern of light is constantly changing and evolving with different characters and designs that are completely incomprehensible.
It seems to be showing something but it’s so obscure.
As the lines jumped around, huge and unfamiliar buildings were built high and collapsed into nothingness.
A crowd of people gathered and scattered about as if they were roaring and struggling. Finally the images on the wall disappeared one by one.
MC: ….What was that?
19: That was our world.
19: Before your world came, the last civilization.
My brain stopped working for a while and I was stunned. I pinched myself hard and thought that everything in front of me was just a dream.
Residual intelligence? The last civilization?
I turned my head to look Helios. He also seemed to frown deeply at 19’s words.
I thought the restart of time was absurd enough, but I didn’t expect that the world seemed to prefer the moment when people were caught by surprise.

MC: ….Are you also “human beings”?
As soon as I asked, the question sounded a bit absurd even to me.
19: If you use your language and judgment criteria, yes. ***What, so they’re not human beings? Extra-terrestrials? Space aliens??? Istg, if the game introduces aliens into the story, I will lose it...in a good way.***
Helios: Can you prove it?
19: Nothing can be proved.
As it spoke, the sound of gears turned again and the stone slabs on the wall made a loose sound.
Helios immediately held me in his arms, took a step back, and carefully looked in 19’s direction.
While the wall vibrated, the stone slab was slowly opened.
The undisturbed dust rises in the long-lost light, as if waiting has exhausted all their once glory and splendor.
Now, it can only use this last touch of floating dust to meet this world again after a long absence.
Then, it fell silently, mixing with the ash that was already covering it.
Its appearance was hardly recognizable.
19: Can you see anything?
Neither Helios nor I spoke, but looked at 19 quietly.
19: Nothing at all, right?
19: We also know.
19 gently stretched out its hand. The line was deformed as if its palm stopped in the air.
In fact, it touched nothing. At that moment, its hollow shadow looked tired and relieved.
The lines are constantly deforming and flowing, as if with incomparable nostalgia, touching the most cherished traces that have been here.
19: Nothing can escape the erosion of time. The lighthouse is something we can keep in this world….***Their technology must be quite advanced to be able to make this lighthouse and survive all this time for it to be discovered. Something like this is definitely right up Kiro’s expertise.***
19: The greatest miracle.
Helios: If that’s the case…
Helios: With your technical ability, why would it disappear?
A long laugh echoed in the lighthouse with a hint of weariness.
19: We are not the first civilization to disappear in this world.
19: Likewise, it will not be the last one.
[Gaze of Time]
My brain went blank.
I don’t know whether I should believe in such a strange and ridiculous voice and to believe that this world was as prosperous as it was hundreds of millions of years ago.
There may be people who are similar to us, have landscapes, and have the same or different world. They have existed in a real and vivid way.
And there was more than one such world.
Helios: What was the reason for your destruction?
19: It was because we lacked the necessary conditions. ***CORE, the QUEEN gene perhaps....?***
Helios: What do you mean?
19’s body leaned towards me and in that shadow, I seemed to feel a certain kind of gaze coming from the ancient years.
19: It is not up to “me” to answer your question. But other than that, I have a gift for you.
The lines flickered, skipped along the wall, and turned into a passageway.
I subconsciously stepped forward, trying to follow it, but Helios held me back.

Helios: What are you doing?
MC: It seems it wants us to follow.
Helios: Are you so easily fooled?

MC: ….
I met Helios’ mocking gaze, looked back at the flickering symbols on the wall, pursed my lips together, and kept my gaze firm.
MC: Although I don’t quite believe what it says, I think it is very sincere.
Helios: Insincere disguise is only a joke.

MC: Are you talking about yourself?
Helios: ….
He squinted his eyes and raised his head arrogantly, as if he wanted to conceal the emotions.
MC: And I would love to see what the gift is.
Helios: Be careful that you don’t get killed by ignorant curiosity.
His hands weren’t actually too stiff. I stared at him and stretched out my fingers toward the electric light that ran between the two of us.

MC: Helios, do you know what will happen if you cross this line?
He didn’t say a word. He only glanced at the ground and then his gaze returned to my face.
I smiled, and then gently pulled his hand with some force. Helios unexpectedly didn’t resist so I stepped towards the line with my strength.

MC: It seems that nothing happened.
Helios: It’s just a line.
MC: Maybe many things are just a line. Only to be crossed over. ***Changed some wording***
Helios: And if it can’t?
MC: Then think of a way. Two people will always have a way. ***Can’t help but get Light Pursuit date vibes from this scene***
There seemed to be a tremor in Helios’ eyes, holding my hand. His fingertips slowly turning white from his grip.
At last, he laughed softly, with a bit of self-deprecation and helplessness.

Helios: (chuckles lightly) You really don’t know how to give up.
Helios: Then don’t let go.
Before I could reply, he took my hand and walked forward in front of me.
Turning around, we found that the figure had been waiting silently.
19: She is brave.
Helios: Just useless courage.
19: It is precisely because human beings are born with courage that we have to learn to avoid all unknowns and risks.
19 slowly moved along the wall. The mechanisms opened by the rotation of gears paved the way for us.
Looking at its figure, I felt like someone was walking beside me, telling me some age-old stories.
19: It allows you to greet the unknown even if you feel scared and to overcome all the pain for the sake of hope. ***Changed some wording***
19: It allows us to meet you at the end of departure. ***This line reminds me a lot of one of Kiro’s karma bylines from his karma “Stranger”: “I await you at the end of the opposite path.”***
As 19 talked, I found myself arriving in a wider space.

We seem to have come to a place closer to the ground, surrounded by ruins. It seems that someone has been here and there have been signs of explosions.
Unknowingly, it was nighttime. The faint moonlight came in, making me a little startled for a moment.
19’s hand “gracefully” raised, and the patterns of light crossed every fragment of the ruins along the ground and merged together.
Only this time, it’s better than the magnificent picture from before, more refined and more….real.

The entire ruins turned into a theater in a blink of an eye and it seemed to be identical to our current theater.
In the center of the empty stage, there are some small but peculiar instruments that looked like microphones.
19: People of the future, there are not many things in this world that have escaped time.
19: There are many more lighthouses like this one.
19: We try to keep all of civilization in the lighthouse, hoping to leave behind the stories, voices, predictions, and music we hear.
19: We want to fight against time and prove to the world….
19: We have existed.
19: However, only one in ten million can be left behind.
19 opened its hands gently, as if embracing something.
19: But even if one person believes it, we will be successful.
19: Thank you all.
A faint melody came from the empty stage, making me freeze for a moment.

MC: This is….

Helios: It’s a song.
Helios’ voice was soft, with some unnoticeable bewilderment and doubt in his words. His always-alert expression finally began to loosen.
I listened to this song quietly. I couldn’t tell what instruments were and the rhythm itself was very strange. The obscure language and timbre are so distant that I can’t figure out the pronunciation or the content.
I don’t know what is being sung, and I can’t even understand its sustenance or calling.
But I seem to be able to tell from this song that the remote and mysterious world is very real and alive at this moment.
This song is so desperate as if gathering all the hatred. Even if the world collapses, it will leave the last trace of unwilling cry.
But it is full of hope. Even if everything is dead, it still firmly believes that it can be done again.
It carries countless eyes, straddling the endless dark night, and breaking free from hundreds and millions of years.
Finally, reaching to us.
19: Thank you all.
The melody ended. Softly, 19 repeated the phrase again.
19: This is the last song we left in this world. Now it has completed its mission and it shall disappear with me.
Helios: Play it again.
Amidst the emotion of 19, on the empty ruins, Helios suddenly spoke up in a voice that seemed particularly indifferent.
19: I do not quite understand what you mean.
Helios: The song just now, play it again.
19 shook its head, not knowing what he was thinking.
After a period of silence, the same melody and singing was played again. I stared in confusion at Helios with his eyes closed, not knowing what he was going to do.

When the music ended, Helios slowly opened his eyes. He quietly looked at the empty stage like a frozen statue for a long time.
At last, he started walking towards the stage in the middle of the ruins, with some hesitation full of contradictions and some resoluteness that I didn’t understand.
When he stood on the stage, he glanced around, kneeling down reverently and touching the stage with his fingers gently.
Clearly, it was just a projection but at that moment, I suddenly felt as if he really touched the unreachable world.
Helios stood in front of the transparent microphone, his fingers trembling slightly. He lowered his head to watch the transparent phantom and gently covered his fingers.

The cold moonlight was shining down upon his head, as if the spotlight from this world was leaning on him without any cover.
The night sky was full of stars. The theater and stage reflected by the patterns of light flickered with specks of light, which merged into a sea of stars.
Helios closed his eyes and sang softly. The melody that had just circulated in the theater now became his sonata piece.
19: This is….
He almost perfectly restored all the pronunciation and inflection. The arcane and unfamiliar language seemed to be surging with fresh vitality.
All the hatred and love, hope and despair are deeply condensed in his singing.
Helios stands in the brightest place in the world.
His entire being is glowing.
At that moment, I knew that the person standing on the stage was Helios and even Kiro.
I’ve heard that when human beings create language, they make a voice of their own to the world.
As a result, human civilization emerged and it began to expand and pass on the basis of language.
This foreign language is so mysterious and difficult to understand that even now, it cannot be explained. It seems so fragile and meaningless.
But Kiro wrote it down completely. In endless silent times, the world once again heard the voice from that distant civilization.
He is in this world, using his voice to leave a song that only belongs to that era.
He used his method to let that far-off voice pass through the long and ancient night. For the first time, it reverberated.
Helios slowly opened his eyes and stood in front of 19.

Helios: All of you still exist.
The lines on 19’s body trembled and some rustling mechanical noises broke and rang, seeming to be on the verge of losing control.
It seemed to be shock beyond understanding and calculation. It seemed to be joy.
19: Th…thank, thank you. Thank you all.
In the distance, there seemed to be light patterns stretching out and spreading towards the darkness, slowly drawing the outline of a ship, as if it was setting sail.
19: We have always believed that there is one person who is the last piece of the puzzle to break the cycle. The future we cannot push towards, maybe you can reach it.
19: Go. Go to other lighthouses. There are countless people’s research, countless people’s attempts, and countless people’s hopes.
19: After you leave, everything will automatically be destroyed.
19: We…no, the civilization of generations will always bless you.
19: May our failure be a lighthouse to guide you to the future path.
19: Until the next lighthouse, farewell for now.
As the voice of 19 gradually faded into the air, there seemed to be some mechanical clicking sound echoing leisurely in the dark.
-End of Part 8-
***The introduction of the lighthouse has to be the most fascinating and interesting thing that has happened in the entirety of the MLQC story. Actually, I think it’s the ONLY interesting thing that has happened yet. So much info dump and my mind spinning. It took a whole season and 12 chapters of season 2 to finally get to the nitty-gritty stuff. There was definitely some references to Kiro’s R&S: Lonely like the sound of gears turning, countless civilizations, destruction. Plus the “roaring/crying” was mentioned before, vaguely, in season 1 chapter 17. Also, that infinity symbol (8) with all the thorns on it must represent this endless cycle of fate where these previous civilizations always seem to meet their end/destruction after reaching a certain high point and a new one is created in its place and the old one is forgotten or never existed. Hence the existence of the lighthouse- to preserve the civilization in some way and pass on its legacy to the next one. It begs the question of “why”. If anything, the world of season 2 might just suffer the same fate just like season 1. Does that mean MC will have to go back in time to save it and the guys will have to lose their memories once again? How many times will the world restart in order to prevent destruction? I don’t think I can deal with another round of that. The cycle has to end but how exactly? I’m very excited and anxious to find out more about what happens next. When is the next lighthouse?***
#spoilers#mlqc#mlqc spoilers#mlqc season 2#mlqc season 2 spoilers#translations#mlqc translations#mlqc season 2 translations#kiro#kiro spoilers#helios#helios spoilers#love and producer#koi to producer#mr love queen's choice#mr love game#mr love dream date#mldd
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Ats headcanons
I enjoyed doing the btvs characters, so I thought I would do some hcs for working in a store they frequent and meeting Angel characters, perhaps an obstacle to your relationship and how things would develop thereafter.
[Yes, there is some overlap with some of the characters that I did for the btvs hcs but it’s different stores and scenarios and a lot of the characters have had a bit of development since then!]
Warning: Spoilers for probably every season. Sex reference (only in one or two). Reader is cheated on by someone else in one hc.
I feel like these are slightly darker themes in some just cos the show is a little more like that than btvs. Some are so long I might as well have written out a fic but I like doing lots of different characters at once.
Feel free to request Hcs for any buffyverse characters I enjoy doing these !! 💖
Angel:
- Independent book store - He likes to go and buy from independent stores, he doesn’t trust buying from the internet - You are always extra helpful and you don’t mind that he’s usually quiet apart from thanking you - You often tell him if you’ve read one of the books and you liked it, or you tell him to tell you if its any good - You only ever see him in the dark or by the glow of the dimly lit store - He seems lonely to you, insular - You always enjoy that first Sunday evening of the month, because he pretty much comes in regularly - He really enjoys hearing you talk, you have lots of opinions on literature and the characters and some of them, he had never heard not in the centuries he had been around - You interested him and he liked that you didn’t know anything about demons, it meant he could feel almost human for the first time in a long time - You were his secret, none of his friends knew that he now exclusively shopped there because it meant he could see you, he had started talking just as much as you did - Sometimes, he cleared his whole evening and he would find himself caught in such an interesting conversation with you that time would fly by and you were supposed to have closed the store hours ago - He offers to drive you home, you accept happily and you really get on he might even invite you in and allow you to stay over if it gets too late (he would 100% take the couch no arguments srry) - So someone either barges in that morning or they insist they need to go to the bookstore with him next time he goes - I’m guessing Wes or Cordy - Both would sense the familiarity between you straight away and squint at him, checking if he’s gone evil because his face is actually contorted into a… pleasant smile - Either way they’ll start running their mouth about demons and angel will panic and pull them away leaving you confused - He’ll have to hurry away to take care of some demon, neither of you can stop thinking of the other for the full week - He’ll come in, sheepish, having to explain himself. Demons, all that. Probably feel guilty if he didn’t tell you he was a vampire too (cue an explanation of the curse) - You’ll surprise him, shrug, and ask if he wants to get a drink after your shift - First date of many, you might even join angel investigations after a while (not just bc you’re now in a very committed relationship with the boss)
Spike:
- You work in an electronics store. - His PlayStation stopped working (he threw it out of the window when he lost) so he’s demanding you fix it - You tell him it’s a write off. But you show him some good deals on a new one. - He smiles, thinking you were flirting, but it’s something you are supposed to do for your job - He pays with a debit card, that says it belongs to ‘Angel investigations’ - You presume he’s the named Angel, and say ‘Thanks Angel’ as he leaves - He turns back, starting to scowl, but then realises what’s happened. He keeps up the pretence so that Angel doesn’t figure out he’s taken the company card - He’s pretty lonely, so when he’s not swearing at his PlayStation, he’s thinking about the brief interaction with you at the store - He comes in a few more times, asking about accessories or extras he may need to make him win better - He sticks around for slow evenings sometimes. You start to chat to him, getting to know him, always giving him the warmest smile - Your hands probably brush against each other when you’re showing him something and he cannot stop smiling – it’s been the best thing that’s happened since he became corporeal again. Human touch. Your touch - Finally asks you out, you decide you’d love to spend time with him - There’s only one problem - You think his name’s Angel. So, he spends most of the evening telling you wild and very obviously made up stories about being an investigator and then becoming a CEO. - You go into a bar together and who should interrupt but the real Angel and he keeps calling your Angel by the name Spike. - You frown, having had enough and he’s caught up in some demon killing so he can’t come after you - He is too embarrassed for a while to talk to you again, but eventually waits for you after work - He explains everything, you roll your eyes and smile. The times you actually liked him had been when he was himself at the store. He would come in making you laugh and insulting customers under his breath to make you smile - You agree to have a do-over, introducing yourself again and smiling softly as he holds your hand under the counter before he continues to mutter his insults towards the customers.
Cordelia:
- You work for a temp agency, Angel investigations takes you on in their busy period (LA demons don’t listen to the curse of Halloween so it can get busy) - Real busy - So you are drafted in temporarily to help pick up calls - You have experience and you know all about demons (you used to live on a Hellmouth) - Cordy doesn’t get on with you at first, thinking you’re too perfect taking over her job - She wants her wage and its stretched thinner with a new employee - You reorganise the filing, make detailed notes and are really good on calls to potential clients - And you’re really friendly with her and she finds herself enjoying your company but she still gets suspicious of how good you are at her job - aka she gets a little jealous and it boils over one evening and she starts to ask Angel how long it’ll be until you leave - You overhear, ofc, and Angel’s eyes widen making Cordy turn and see your hurt face - And she feels really guilty when she sees she’s upset you - You just walk past her, pass Angel the files you had finished, and took your jacket to leave - Angel and Wes talk to Cordy, hinting that a lot of her attention has been on you recently – maybe she should think about why that is - You call in sick the next few days, thinking about checking if you can change your contract and be transferred somewhere else. She can’t stop thinking about you - When you’re finally back in, you start the day off in silence, trying to keep up your usual cheery phone voice - Cordelia comes straight in and apologises, handing you a hot drink exactly the way you like it - She hangs the call up that you were on, clicking the button in, losing you a client but this is more important - She tells you that she really likes you and she didn’t realise until she hurt you how much you meant to her in such a short time - She wants to know if she can make it up to you with maybe a dinner date? Say, tonight at that new place - Angel knows someone and helped her get reservations and you agree that it’s the least she could do which makes her smile
Wesley:
(sorry this isn’t in the best moment of his character arc)
- Hardware store - You get suspicious when he’s buying a list of things that makes you think he might be doing something he shouldn’t - You honestly don’t get paid enough for this, but you had to confront him in the car park for your own moral conscience - He has purchased a bucket, some rope, heavy-duty chains and a large mallet - So you shout, ‘Hey! Are you planning on killing someone?’ (you’re not great with tact) - He whips around so fast and stalks towards you it honestly scares you - He has a certain level of menace, like the English villains in cartoons - “That, would be none of your business” he mutters, realising he would have to go back in and buy more if he wanted to keep you in his closet too - “You know, if it’s something supernatural you might need more than a mallet” you offer, you can tell when someone’s seen something supernatural. Something behind their eyes - He just shakes his head and leaves, but all the while he’s apart from you he can’t stop thinking about you - He glares at the woman he has held hostage, wishing she would just give up her information do he could find Angel - He finds himself walking back to the hardware store - Some dithering excuse about the strength of the chains or wanting you to show him some alternative rope - Gets into a conversation with you about either how you know about demons or why you thought he was gonna kill people - You tell him very obviously he is at least holding a hostage, it makes him crumble slightly - He’s been through a lot, what with the almost dying. Twice - He tells you to follow him and you shrug, chucking your apron at your friend on shift, asking him to cover you - You spoke in the shadows, not able to see each others faces. He told you everything, like everything since he had moved to the U.S, Sunnydale, everything. - He could tell there was something about you, I mean asking him if he was gonna kill someone? You were intelligent, perceptive and to him: better than the job you were in - You then told him of your own darkest moments - Bonded through this, you parted ways, but your minds never left that spot. Never left each other - You met up regularly after this, you hinting that he should probably let the woman go now. Maybe there could be another way to find his boss - Then one day she was gone, his mood lifted and he pulled you into him and landed a kiss - You start dating, helping him sort through everything and you probably eventually join Angel Investigations, Wesley thinks you’re better suited with him anyway
Gunn:
- You serve coffee at a local diner 24 hour diner.
- He comes in every Friday, but he’ll start coming in more regularly when he spots you behind the counter
- After his shifts, before his shifts for a morning coffee even if he’s late into the office
- Finds himself spending more money than is feasible on eating out just because you’re there
- Decides he had better ask you out. So he does.
- Very cool, very collected
- you can’t help smiling at the way he’s leaning ever-so-cool across the counter
- You’re so pleased he likes you, he had definitely caught your eye, and you jump at the chance to go on a date with him
- There’s only one problem: he finds out you’re half demon and you have a big hatred for a certain mystical law firm that had ruined your family
- He’s cool with the half-demon thing, but it does mean he’s lying about where he works now
- He likes you too much to ruin it over anything like a job
- But one day, after dating a few months, you find out. You were summoned to a meeting at the top floor of the building, the only one that could translate as you passed for human
- There was some misunderstanding over the sacrificial killings being presumed murder by the CEO and his team
- You walked in to find your boyfriend shuffling his papers waiting for this translator he didn’t want to have to deal with
- This results in an argument in front of the whole team and your extended family who don’t really get what’s going on
- You storm away and Angel lets your family off due to the bad publicity he’s informed will take place if they do anything else
- Gunn lets you cool off but eventually can’t stay away and comes into your work and you try to ignore him
- he follows you into the back, apologising over your boss who is shouting at him for coming into the employee-only area
- he takes your shoulders, looks into your eyes and promises he’s working there for the right reasons, telling you that he’s on the right side of this but if you asked he could see about looking for different employment
- he wouldn’t stop saving the world, but he could transfer to some kind of ‘consultancy’ status
- you smile, appreciating the gesture but insist that he shouldn’t lose his job for you. You accept his apology and start to make things work - promising to be honest from then on
- he kisses you, cupping your cheek and moving your head towards him, the verbal promise sealed with the kiss you shared
Fred:
- you’re a barista in a coffee shop
- she’s always in early mornings and late nights, sometimes you open a little later knowing she’ll want her coffee with extra cream and sugar
- she always bashfully thanks you, insisting you shouldn’t have waited, so you have to admit seeing her is often the highlight of your day
- she’ll blush and shake her head, sipping slowly on her drink. She’ll grin and say it’s exactly how she likes it (you had it waiting for her, she didn’t have to order)
- you get to know her over the months she’ll pop in, becoming a really close friend of hers.
- which soon leads into more, both of you being very affectionate. It comes so naturally
- problem is that the tension in her office could be cut with a knife. Almost everyone had a crush on her, whether she was aware of it or not
- you became very insecure, distancing yourself from her after you noticed
- thinking maybe she would be better off with one of the others. she was so upset, her brow furrowing and her work not being her best
- she felt alone again, like she had when she was trapped on Pylea. she just wanted to speak to you about it but she couldn’t. she didn’t get why you were being so cold
- One day you notice one of the men in the lab harassing her at work when you pop in (your coffee store does deliveries now) and you cuss him out
- she smiles, grateful. Her nose scrunching as she smiled. You nod awkwardly, handing her drink and leaving which makes her deflate a little (she wanted you to stay)
- finally, she comes in on her day off - which is odd cos it’s so far from her apartment. she tells you she wants to spend time with you and she wants to know why you suddenly stopped seeing her
- you explain everything, on your break. She shakes her head and smiles fondly at your explanation.
- she promises the only one she has eyes for is you. You grin and she insists you should have spoken to her about it sooner
- you mysteriously come down with an ‘illness’ after your break and ask to take the rest of the day off and spend it in bed with Fred
Lorne:
- you work in an exclusive theatre, work in the ticket office for premiers
- You see Lorne a lot and always give him a winning smile
- He knows you by name straight away, he’s a people person
- But it was so more than that, he was absolutely entranced by you but you couldn’t tell - he was always around celebrity types what with his job so you felt like he wouldn’t want to look at you twice
- he always stopped to talk to you, savouring the moment you had together
- he was thinking of asking you to dinner, or to accompany him to a premier one time instead of you mostly staying in the ticket office
- however one time, before he had chance to ask, he brought a friend with him. Wesley
- he talked to you, Lorne visibly tense at the way he took a shine to you
- you start to date Wesley on and off after that evening,
- Lorne gets annoyed at the way he treats you, dropping you any time that Fred so much as gave him a second glance
- you felt lonely and sad, the only person able to cheer you up being Lorne
- he kept you company a lot, growing so close to the point you trusted him more than anyone. You were so comfortable with him, in the way
- he desperately wants to hold you in his arms, take care of you the way that you deserve
- one evening you say that you had better leave, Wes was supposed to be taking you out
- you walk to his office and find Wes kissing Fred. You scream, shout and then storm away
- Lorne hears the commotion, following you out and scooping you up and holding you into him
- the warmest embrace one you didn’t ever want to move from
- he stayed with you for months, building you back up for entirely selfless reasons.
- one day, way after everything that happened with Wes, he looks at you and his feelings let slip
- you smile, shocked. You hadn’t realised he felt that way - you had thought you would never have a chance with someone like him. You tell him this and and pulls you close
- you kiss, the passion that has been building since the day you met finally pouring between you. You both smile at each other and you pull him in again for another kiss
Doyle:
- You work the register in a liquor store
- He came in fairly often, the hard stuff the only thing that would help with the visions
- you like his humour, and his accent, and he always has a smile for you even if he’s had a crap day
- he really likes you but he doesn’t know how to tell you
- won’t shut up about you to Angel. So much so that even Angel was gonna march him over to your store and demand he ask you to put him out of his misery
- but luckily, you took a shine to him so you were the one doing the asking. Or, more hinting that you would be getting off your shift soon and that you could share one of his fine bottles of cheap liquor if he wanted company
- almost choked on his words in his enthusiasm, so he just nods and waits for you to grab your stuff
- you spend a lot of time just talking, sharing intimate details and connecting
- his irish lilt was music to your ears and he smiled in that boyish way he does when you tell him this
- You finish a bottle and since that night, he’s addicted. He wants to spend all of his time with you
- He keeps the visions secret at first, but eventually one night he has a bad one – needs to see Angel and you tell him he needs to rest
- You worry, but he’s insistent
- So you come with him and find out about the demons that you had never quite managed to notice before
- He shares, explains about everything while he’s holding you in his arms. Only thing is he manages to avoid the fact that he’s half demon himself.
- You become closer, noticing Angel and Cordelia (you were friends with them both now kind of) seemed to be hinting he needed to tell you something
- You only caught whispers, the end of conversations but you decided to ask him
- He avoided the question, he didn’t feel good enough. He didn’t want to lose you, you were too important to him – he thought you finding out he was demon would make you run a mile
- And then, one evening he had left to help at Angel Investigations when there was a knock at the door. It was a spiky green demon, apparently a distant relative of your guy
- You invited the demon in, making sure to be the perfect host(/ess)
- Doyle eventually came in, eyes wide and panicked when he saw the relative. You continued to pour the tea, offering him a cup which he declined and went straight for the hard stuff
- The relative stayed the night, at your insistence, and when you and Doyle went into his room to sleep you asked him to show you that part of him
- He reluctantly did, incredibly embarrassed. But you just kissed him softly and slipped into bed, patting the other side for him to join you
- He grinned, thanking his lucky stars and your relationship only grew from there
Harmony:
- You serve at a Demon bar.
- You make drinks and various cocktails of slime and blood
- Starts as a fling, she doesn’t expect it to be anything more
- Sometimes she’ll talk down to you or start nibbling on your neck. You get on at her to stop, she knew you were human to begin with
- She tries to use sex to distract you, but you want the romance too
- She isn’t used to people wanting a romantic relationship, so she expects you just want sex like her past relationships
- When she realises how soft you can be and how much she enjoys it, things change
- Harmony slowly starts moving her stuff in, suggesting brunch and calling you cheesy pet names that you find adorable.
- You find yourself excited about this, she appears well-meaning and she’s very sweet with you. A little bit fang-happy sometimes but you can let that slide
- You treat her with kindness that she isn’t accustomed to in relationships, she decides because of this its true love. Like in a romance novel.
- Absolutely not used to such kindness.
- You’re happy with her excitement, not because she was treated so bad, but because she feels for you like you feel for her.
- When she double-crosses the people she was supposed to be loyal to, you have a big argument
- You love her, but she relies on the ‘I’m a vampire’ excuse and won’t take responsibility
- There’s a rough patch and both of you are so upset without the other
- But she comes back to the home you shared one evening, calling you the sweetest pet-names and apologising in her own way
- You accept, continuing to date and explore a healthy relationship, trying to help her with her own self-worth too
Lindsey:
- Gas station
- You have served him both on his way in and out of town, the many times he has left and come back
- You don’t usually remember customers, but you do remember customers that have the seeming ability to grow back hands
- You were always kind to him, maybe a little extra friendly but he never usually stayed to chat
- He had been in a bad mood the last time you saw him, but he had nodded at you before he left
- He was coming back into town again this time, stopping for gas and you hadn’t thought you would see him again
- It had been such a long time, you figured he had finally moved away for good. You liked making up stories about the customers that stopped by, it made time go a little faster on slow nights
- Tonight you were on your break when he rolled up in his truck, looking pleased with himself
- You were outside, catching some fresh air and he struck up conversation. He had a glint in his eye, some purpose he was coming back for
- He smiled, actually started sweet-talking you. It appeared that he had you in his memory too
- He asked if you wanted to see each other, now he was moving back to LA
- You have nothing to lose so you say yes agreeing to drinks to see where things went
- Things start out good, for a while. Until he asks you to quit your job and get a job and infiltrate a formerly evil law firm
- You have no experience, no anything but he manages to swing it for you. He just wants you to watch them, for now
- You realise you feel like you’re being used, there’s more to the plan than you realise
- You come home one night, a black eye after Angel ‘asks’ you if you know anything about the amulet – some girl that’s supposed to be dead said you weren’t the real liaison with the senior partners
- Lindsey apologises, gets mad at them for being cruel to you. Tells you everything, his plans, his reasoning. Says he wants to hurt them more now they’ve done this to you.
- He cant stop apologising while he holds you close to him in bed
- He loves you, he tells you and you choose to trust him. feeling it so intimately
- He looks out for you and he’s protective of you if you come with him to Wolfram and Hart ever
- Instead of getting caught up on the fight he catches your eye and decides, for the last time, to leave LA this time – he wants to take you with him
Lilah:
- Hotel check in. you’re a receptionist who basically runs the place
- Lilah’s having sex with someone senior for information that will get her a promotion
- You’re always nice to her, she’s always short with you
- One day you snap, asking why she’s such a bitch. You weren’t usually like this, but you had a bad day and it suddenly came out
- She smiled, arching an eyebrow and just turned to leave satisfied that nobody is as nice as you had been pretending to be
- She had been pushing your buttons on purpose, seeing how long it would be until you snapped
- It had surprised her and been a couple of months of her being rude to you
- she smiled, saying her door would be open if you wanted to do something about it
- It of course, started off with an angry passion, sex just because you could. for convenience and just to get frustrations out (from both of your jobs)
- It was easy for both of you, but suddenly after a while of your arrangement you let something slip in the throws of passion
- The ‘L’ word
- Boy was she mad at you for saying it. Shoving you almost off the bed, snatching up her clothes and calling you pathetic before she stormed away
- she refused to answer you calls after this, for a while. You didn’t realise she was scared of her won feelings that surfaced when you said what you did
- You came to her work, she threatened to call security but you mentioned a few confidential cases she had left around the hotel room that you managed to cast a glance over
- she agreed to let you into her office so you could talk
- and surprisingly, you did. She tried her best to keep you at arms length but the promise of someone to actually care about her with no ulterior motives was too much
- she agreed to meet you that night, the first tentative feeling of a relationship coursing through you, hopefully you could convince her to take a chance on you
#Ats headcanons#buffyverse headcanons#Spike btvs#Angel#Cordelia Chase#wesley wyndam pryce#Charles Gunn#Gunn#Winifred burkle#Fred#Lorne#Doyle#Lindsey#Lilah Morgan#Harmony#Spike x reader#Angel x reader#Cordelia Chase x reader#Wesley x reader#Charles Gunn x reader#Fred x reader#Winifred burkle x reader#Doyle x reader#Harmony x reader#Lilah morgan x reader#Lindsey x reader#Buffy The Vampire Slayer#Buffyverse#hcs#angel the series
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Frank’s hints on season 3 part 5
Okay so today Frank suddenly started answering a bunch of asks with several relating to season 3 for the first time since Rumble for Ragnorak aired so time to put those in one post then.
sleaveheralone asked: An out of context Rockerduck quote?
Frank’s answer: “NOW PIPE DOWN!”
sleaveheralone asked: Could you describe Scrooge's arc in season 3?
Frank’s answer: What is more powerful than Scrooge McDuck? (probably FOWL)
kinningducks asked: is gladstone okay?
Frank’s answer: He is VERY MUCH NOT OKAY in an upcoming episode. (interesting to see what’s going on with Gladstone this season given the other hints I haven’t put on the blog yet)
moonstoneflowers asked: Are you at liberty to describe Webby’s season 3 arc?
Frank’s answer: NOPE.
carabcod000 asked: Will Gosalyn be Quiverwing Quack one day
Frank’s answer: We are very aware of Quiverwing Quack.
gabe-prentiss asked: Will fenton find out gandra works for F.O.W.L?
Frank’s answer: WILL HE??? Hmmmm… (the suspense to Gandra and Fenton’s story this season is intriguing)
hueycartoonist asked: What would Gladstone do if his luck ever ran out?
Frank’s answer: HMMMMM.
r6sedust asked: Can we get a one word description of gandra's arc?
Frank’s answer: Acceptance. (intriguing for Gandra)
rruckey asked: Will we know more about Magica's past?
Frank’s answer: …
lexipup13 asked: How is Steelbeak doing? Still muzzled?
Frank’s answer: He’s picking up a new hobby.
milkytheholy asked: Do you know when can expect to see the rest of the season??
Frank’s answer: I do! (looks like we may be getting out of the hiatus in September)
quackerjack asked: Will Fethry be important at all this season?
Frank’s answer: Feathery is gonna let one dumb secret slip. (I am 99% sure the secret’s gonna be about Scrooge and Donald’s estrangement to Della)
imdad20 asked: Will there be any hugging between Donald and Della?
Frank’s answer: Yes of course. (this ought to satisfy those claiming Della’s too mean to Donald)
analyticamethyst asked: ooc lena spoiler please? nice to see you my dude!
Frank’s answer: Needs help. (I’m worried for her now)
im-the-hokagay asked: What’s your favorite line from the rest of season 3? And if you can add, who says it?
Frank’s answer: “YOU’RE ALIVE?!” (probably Scrooge to Rockerduck)
neopuff asked: can you tell us aaaaaaanything new about goldie? new dress? new character interaction? does she miss her lil Sharpie? goldie fans need to know
Frank’s answer: Wants a do-over. (I smell a Goldie redemption)
maclove54 asked: Can you give us ooc Gos? Pls. I know she’s not even in the show (still), but I think we need a little of her.
Frank’s answer: “LIAR!”
babywonderlandwerewolf asked: Will there be interaction between Donald, Gladstone, Fethry, and Della this season?
Frank’s answer: Sure. (this just build up more hype for some well awaited Duck Cousin shenanigans this season!)
marshmeadow12 asked: Will Boyd and Lena encounter each other?
Frank’s answer: Yes
smalltreenergy asked: Could you give us an ooc Penumbra quote??
Frank’s answer: “YOU KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN?!”
paperoga asked: Are we going to see more Gene? Hes super cute! ☺
Frank’s answer: Yep
brendaxdt17 asked: How's penny doing
Frank’s answer: Just…fine.
riverajocabed1 asked: Anything you can tell us about F.O.W.L or a F.O.W.L agent? Like an ooc quote or fact?
Frank’s answer: Was founded after SHUSH. (interesting)
ghostlightz asked: mr. angones i really enjoy everything you've done with ludwig von drake's character in dt17 and i'm endlessly excited to potentially see more. is there anything you can reveal about my austrian king? either way i hope you have a wonderful day :]
Frank’s answer: Made one very big mistake.
babywonderlandwerewolf asked: Will Louie and Lena interact at all this season?
Frank’s answer: Yep (Hooray for the schemers!)
kats-kreations asked: Is a Toad Liu Hai return possible? Definitely not his one and only fan asking here......
Frank’s answer: At Epcot! (looks like season 3 could be out of the question)
ninjaplatypus904 asked: Will there be more Three Cabs?
Frank’s answer: They got another song in them, I think. (looks like Jose and Panchito aren’t done yet)
dnaxtiki asked: Will Dewey interact with Violet in this season?
Frank’s answer: Yep (nice combo)
non-specific-excuse asked: will doofus ever grow as a person or is he just. like that lol
Frank’s answer: Doofus would have to get worse before he got better.
beansismyreligion asked: Do Boyd and Gosalyn ever meet?
Frank’s answer: Let’s get this out of the way; all the kids will meet all the other kids.
bradamantethebrave asked: Does anybody have a birthday coming up in season 3?
Frank’s answer: YEP.
imnotacommittee asked: Will Catherine and David, er Magica and Scrooge, interact this season?
Frank’s answer: Yep.
im-the-hokagay asked: Does Don Karnage show up this season?
Frank’s answer: Does Dewey Duck still live?! THAN YES.
kats-kreations asked: Is the birthday for a certain lucky individual?
Frank’s answer: No.
writeroffanfiction asked: Will there be Blood for the Blood God?
Frank’s answer: No, but there might be some chaos.
madebycoolsouls asked: Is the person who Don Karnage hates more than Dewey an Avian or Ursine?
Frank’s answer: BOTH.
thatmagicstonelife asked: Will Gladstone and Magica meet? Will Gladstone and Lena meet?
Frank’s answer: 😏
schoolrumbler93 asked: where is Magica living now that she doesn't have her fortune of a million dead souls? homeless?
Frank’s answer: Spoilers.
ask-sfsf asked: Just a random question, will be any references to famous movies like “Terminator” this season?
Frank’s answer: Specifically famous movies that are LIKE The Terminator?
carabcod000 asked: Are we going to see Lunaris in S3
Frank’s answer: I mean, way up far away in the sky orbiting the earth. If you squint maybe. (so basically no)
guaxinim-colorado123 asked: Are the moon aliens living on Earth or did they just take a tour and go back to the moon?
Frank’s answer: Spoilers. (coming up in the Webby and Penumbra episode)
johnlaurenslovesyou asked: is gos gonna keep her iconic catchphrase?
Frank’s answer: Keen gear? Absolutely.
audidonut asked: Are any villains getting a redemption arc in the future?
Frank’s answer: This is a loaded question with many variables. (Gandra’s gotta be one of them)
call-me-coffee asked: Okay so Since Gosalyn’s been confirmed apparently (🤩🤩🤩) does this mean there might possibly be a “Darkly Dawns the Duck” episode/episodes in the future? (Honestly, it doesn’t matter much if you say yes or no I’d just be thrilled to see one of the people working on my current favorite show answer 😂) Hey, at least you’ll see this!
Frank’s answer: They gotta meet somehow.
madebycoolsouls asked: Have the Vultures ever worked anywhere else, besides their current positions?
Frank’s asnwer: 😏
moonstoneflowers asked: Are you at liberty to describe Beakley’s character arc in season 3?
Frank’s answer: Nerp!
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candaru liveblogs reading her own writing: episode 6
it still absolutely makes my day when people get excited over me talking to them; like habgsdklfgh I’m not Jello I’m just an awkward bean who likes to write?? anyway today’s been pretty good
GHHGASDGAKSDLFH I LITERALLY FORGOT I WROTE THE OPENING LIKE THIS
PFFFFF I GET DONE W/PRAISING JELLO AND THEN IMMEDIATELY GO ON TO ROAST HIM
Gorou being absolutely oblivious and his minions being the ones to drive the plot is hysterical tbh
every once and a while I write a line and then have to squint at it until I figure out where I stole it from because I hear it in a VERY specific voice in my head so I know it’s a reference but even I don’t know to what
anyway (Kirbopher vc) I’M NOTTA SQUIRE!
IT’S THE SWAP VERSION OF WHAT GIO DID TO SYLVIE IN THE MUSEUM
I’m not overly fond of the original bar fight but I wanted to go with the same goofy cartoon brawl aesthetic, so I spent quite a while throwing around ideas before settling on “Nightmare Fuel, but it’s Gorou so instead of being actually scary it’s giant talking donuts trying to eat the people”
I think that was a good idea :)
this was just my personal vendetta upon learning Gorou’s original powerset haijgklsdfhgbh
...but also a good excuse for a swap!version of the “nah, I’m just awesome” line XD
soooooo this was a BIT of a cheat, but I had to have someone drop Molly’s name and I knew it couldn’t be Molly herself because she wouldn’t be dumb enough to do what Gio did (no offense Gio) and every other way I tried to make it happen had other problems, so. Gorou gets to hint at Molly’s backstory! yay!
he used to buy toys for himself and the Banzai Bees even tho he was already very much an adult :’)
this is a joke
but also a very subtle reference to the fact that the cat (who is in Howdy Morning’s role) was part of a plot-relevant “government experiment”
I absolutely love that last one ngl habsdlkpfaghfsd it’s just so absolutely something that would happen in EE
just. a bunch of minions way more competent than their leader but they all refuse to be promoted and “leave the others behind” so they end up as these very highly-skilled but low-ranking Banzai Blasters
OH I TOTALLY FORGOT UNTIL NOW
THIS WAS THE EPISODE I WROTE THROUGH A DEPRESSIVE ATTACK
AND I’M STILL REALLY PROUD OF THE WORK
don’t let your mental illnesses stop you from achieving your dreams, kids
and thus everyone’s favorite nickname was born
the most-loved scene in this entire thing, by FAR, and honestly I’m perfectly happy with that
everyone please salute Anime Campaign, proof that even your dumb friend group RPs can be turned into a masterpiece as long as you’re open-minded to change things
...I forgot I actually DID put Howdy into this basghsdklfgh (tho most of the joke was that none of his lines needed to change at ALL)
this episode is just full of jabs at Jello, huh?
BUT SERIOUSLY, SIR PLEASE. WHY COULD RAMSEY REMEMBER PERCY’S EPITHET? DO ERASER CUFFS ONLY MAKE YOU FORGET YOUR OWN? BECAUSE IT SEEMS LIKE MERA AND INDUS HAVE A PRETTY SOLID BREAKOUT PLAN IF THAT’S THE CASE. AND EVEN SO, HOW WOULD PERCY KNOW THAT ONE OR TWO “ZAPPY TOWERS” WOULD BE ENOUGH TO KNOCK HER OUT? SHE DOESN’T HAVE A NOTE AND SHE’S UNDER THE ERASER CUFF EFFECTS. SHE SHOULDN’T REMEMBER ANYTHING ABOUT PARAPET. SIR PLEASE—
one of the reasons I didn’t like Redwood Run as much as the Museum Arc was bc I felt that Percy and Ramsey didn’t have much time to actually develop their dynamic, so what they did have felt kinda forced and rushed. of course that’s not exactly Jello’s fault bc he only had THREE episodes to work with and a lot to set up, but I still did my best to give the swap duo as many little moments as possible.
I cared NOTHING for Yoomtah before writing this episode and by the time I was done I LOVED her
one of my fav artists drew this scene PERFECTLY and I now see it in their style whenever I read it
open/confirmed spoilers up ahead regarding Yoomtah:
so the whole “Yoomtah is a robot/cyborg who runs faster than anyone and has electric powers (?)” thing REALLY bothers me because Jello NEVER established that there was magic besides Epithets during the ENTIRE SHOW SO FAR (same with Phoenicia being a magical girl) and that’s just,,,, bbghdsjkg it took me a long time to go “okay, this was based on something else first, I get it, I can get used to the new rules” but gosh I just wish that had been set up better. then again I guess it’s nice that even the writers I admire the most make mistakes.
anyway, got off topic but I love how in the swap version, Yoomtah being a robot/cyborg/??? is just vaguely implied and never actually confirmed, it’s such a good running gag
also
I had. SUCH a hard time coming up with a reason for Sylvie and Yoomtah to have a rivalry, since Sylvie’s got no interest in construction work
and then literally my friend was like “isn’t Yoomtah the one who never sleeps?” and I was like “yeah, why— oh”
SEE? THINGS LIKE THIS. I THINK BUGSY & ARNOLD ARE MORE FUN AS OBVIOUSLY-CORRUPT COPS, AND I THINK YOOMTAH IS MORE FUN AS A CHAOTIC NEUTRAL WHO ISN’T ACTUALLY PART OF THE BAD GUY TEAM BUT IF YOU GET ON HER BAD SIDE SHE’LL TURN INTO YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE FOR .00092 SECONDS
idk I guess I just really like “characters who break the personality stereotypes of their moral alignments” which REALLY fits the rest of EE to a T
the case of the “golden buttocks”
I know I talk about this a lot but I was really so, so proud to finish this (& then the next script) on the deadline. I have discovered that shockingly enough, I like (creative) deadlines. Deadlines make me happy.
maybe I was fated to love EE just because of the opening intro or smth idk
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Behind the Scenes: Birthday Girl
What was going on outside of the narration between part 1 and part 2 of Birthday Girl?
*CONTAINS SPOILERS IF YOU DIDN’T READ EITHER PART*
Word count: ~1k
A/N: If this goes well, I plan on doing this not for only this fic, but for other projects as well. It broke my heart that my anticipated part two of this fic didn’t show up on the tags at all. The algorithm wasn’t in my favor today I guess. Feel free to message or send an ask for feedback or questions.
Changkyun leaves the bedroom with a cheshire cat grin. Sarah offered something to cover up the passionate marks she left on his skin, he insisted on keeping them visible. Not necessarily like a trophy, but as a symbol of something monumental in his life. He was on top of the world. If his brothers weren’t in the living room, he would dance to burn off the happy feeling in his heart. What would make it better is if he said the three words that could change everything. He used his words to elaborate, for it’s better to express love than to simply say it. What would she have done if he said he loves her? Does she know he loves her? Will he ever tell her he loves her? He wants to give her the world, but all he could give is his love and a friends with benefits status. He doesn’t want to be friends with benefits, he wants to be with her all the way, but due to the unpredictability of what Starship would say to him dating, he had to give something.
Changkyun sits on the couch, the same spot where he came on Sarah’s hand just moments before. He bites back a smile, watching the TV, but isn’t paying any attention to the screen. His mind is elsewhere, playing the events between him and Sarah like a movie in his memories.
“Is Sarah alright?”, Wonho nudges Changkyun’s arm.
“She isn’t feeling too well”, Changkyun keeps his promise. The boys express concern for Sarah’s wellbeing. They turn down the volume of the TV, which was blaring, shielding the sounds from the bedroom, leaving no hint of horseplay.
“What happened to her?”, Shownu adjusts his posture.He realizes he didn’t discuss a plan on the cause of her illness.
“She’s had a tough day at work today. She got really anxious and had to go home early because of an upset stomach. I got her to take a shower, I’ll check on her in a minute”, Changkyun recalls a text conversation between them earlier that day.
“I’ll go check on her!”, Jooheon springs to action. Rushing to the kitchen to fetch a glass of ice water, Jooheon was determined to be there for Sarah. Due to insecurities, Jooheon felt like he was neglecting Sarah lately, although without proof. He came to terms that he has feelings for her, but what’s holding him back is, he knows he’s not the only one. Maybe this kind gesture could “spark” something between them? It’s not like Jooheon wants the recognition, he simply wants Sarah to be happy.
Jooheon goes to Sarah’s door, hoping to catch her at a good time.
“I’ll go check on her in a minute”, Changkyun waves at Jooheon.
“I just want to give her some water”, Jooheon swats the air.
“I’m getting dressed, just a second!”, Sarah alerts, frantically getting dressed that very second.
“It’s Honey”, Jooheon announces. His heart races, waiting patiently to enter her bedroom. He feels foolish for referring to himself as his nickname. The thought of her naked just on the other side of the door ignites a fire in his chest, a fire he hasn’t felt in a while.
His attraction to her, similar as the others, started as soon as they met. He couldn’t help but think she’s beautiful. The last time he got a fire in his chest like this was Valentine’s day. They had their comeback for the All About Luv album and she facetimed them to congratulate them. Since he wasn’t there for the promotions in the United States, Sarah went to visit Honey to celebrate just between them. She wasn’t dressed any different from usual, but she looked more beautiful than he could imagine. The fire in his chest made him feel breathless and needy. A feeling of wanting to kiss her overwhelmed him, just to feel his lips on her skin excited him.
“Come in”, Sarah groans. Jooheon takes a deep breath, trying to compose himself before entering a lion's den. What he doesn’t know is his fantasy of kissing her is going to come true and more. He’s going to lose control of himself and unleash hell in her bed.
After the sexual escapade in the bedroom, there was a wave of relief on Jooheon. He didn’t expect Sarah to want him almost as much as he wanted her. Weight was lifted off his shoulders, not only from relieving stress by sex, but also relieving the fear that Sarah isn’t attracted to him. What does this mean for their relationship? He also has no confirmation on being allowed to date, but if he could date, she’s his girl.
Jooheon leaves the bedroom, adjusting his dick in his sweatpants.
“Is she going to be ok?”, Hyungwon looks over to Jooheon.
“Oh, she definitely was not feeling well, but the shower helped. She had a glass of water and is now laying in bed. I think she just needs to sleep it off”, Jooheon lies, internally nervous, but externally casual. Kihyun squints his eyes at Jooheon. Realizing how messed up his hair is, Jooheon finger combs it back to the previous style.
“We should probably go soon so she can sleep. I’ll go say goodnight”, Changkyun eagerly rushes back into the bedroom.
"Wasn't feeling well?”, Wonho fights a frown. A little green monster unexpectedly brews in Wonho. But why?
“Yeah, but she should be better now”, Jooheon nods.
“Good”, Wonho carries on to watch TV, arms crossed. Jooheon sits back at the couch, still composing himself after the sex.
“Next time you check on her, check the volume of the TV in the other room”, Hyungwon whispers to Jooheon.
“Why?”, Jooheon furrows his brows.
“We could hear you two”, Kihyun nonchalantly blurts out, sipping his drink. Jooheon sits there in silence, realizing that there is one wall separating her bed to the living room, choking on the news that his brothers heard him have sex with Sarah. What none of the boys know is that Changkyun is getting away with having sex with Sarah twice in one night, once due to the TV volume, the other from learning by Jooheon’s mistake.
#monsta x smut#monsta x scenarios#monsta x imagines#monsta x fluff#monsta x#monsta x changkyun#monsta x jooheon#monsta x wonho#monsta x hyungwon#monsta x kihyun#monsta x minhyuk#monsta x shownu#kpop smut#kpop fluff#birthday girl series
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Normal problems?
I liked the BBC’s adaptation of Normal People. I watched it fast, and felt nostalgic for those years of my own life in equal measure to realising how universal the feelings of self-doubt, discovery and searching are amongst the age group it depicts. But the more I think about it, the more I have issues with the story as a representation of sexuality, awakening, and the transition from childhood to adulthood. What initially feels like a very 2020 treatment of teenaged sex - lots of double checking on consent and mutual pleasure - is actually not all that egalitarian or progressive on second glance. Here’s how I saw it…
Her narrative arc isn’t clear
Initially, Normal People is the story of Marianne. She’s obnoxious to her teachers, arrogant to her peers and like many of us in that last year before university; she can’t hide her disdain for her small-pond hometown a second longer. So far, so relatable.
***SPOILERS FROM HERE ON!***
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What troubled me though was not how far she came, but the opposite. In the last episode, she asks Connell’s mum what people think of her own mother. The answer is “she’s a bit odd”, and most certainly, we are directed to feel Marianne’s realisation of how similar they are rather than how different. Most of us over 30 might say we’ve had this moment. “There but for the grace of God….” mixed with the revelation that our parents are both human thus flawed, and that they were trying their best to give us more than they had - even if it really didn’t feel like it at the time.
But the problem is - I didn’t feel she had come very far. Only a few minutes before (admittedly 4 months in plot time), she was telling Connell he could do whatever he wanted to her. If there was something I wanted from Marianne at the end, it was the idea that despite appearances, she would put herself first. But she never does. Even in the final scene, she’s telling Connell that he should go do his thing, and she’ll stay put. She says they don’t know if they’ll wait for each other, but she doesn’t seem to offer much that she’ll be doing in the meantime, other than perhaps finding another poor substitute for Connell, who’ll either turn out to be abusive or a damp squib.
Her fierce intellect got her a scholarship, but we have no idea what she’s doing with it. Whilst Connell finds himself in multiple golden opportunity situations, the assurance Marianne had of her place in the world has disappeared and we haven’t even noticed.
My point is that the girls who get ‘A’s across the board at school are erased from professional success in the real world, and if this was supposed to be anything other than a mirror of that, it fails. Marianne’s intellect is erased before she’s even graduated. Now everyone recognises Connell’s brain, and she’s literally standing on the sidelines (when his triumphant literary journal is published).
Bechdale test: does not pass
In fact, we spend a lot of time listening to men speak and women allow them to. The only person who carries on referencing Marianne’s brain is ace friend Joanna. But this is poised with its own problems too. Joanna is bypassed for a sexual storyline, talked over by Jamie (albeit with a nonplussed side-eye), and even vocalises her own fate: “did we get married and become 50 without noticing?”
Which brings me on to the most disappointing element of the adaptation. I realise this is a romance, and thus our main concern is going to be, well, the lovers, but good lord do people think of nothing else? Even at 20, I was very aware that I wanted to have friends whose pants-contents I was not interested in.
The frisson of meeting new people as an adult is definitely intoxicating, and for many people I realise that this is the first time they’ve been doing this stuff (I wasn’t far ahead) but the whole plot centred on who was in whom.
Wait, it’s more nuanced than that - no female character was allowed an identity that did not reference her sexual choices: Marianne, Lorraine (“you were my teenaged mistake, son”), Peggy (“you could have a threesome with me”, “everyone’s saying she’s into S&M, was that your influence?”), Denise (defined by her violent ex and equally shitty son) etc, etc.
Connell and several other male characters, some of who we know very little else about, have career prospects (Alan is doing well at work over family dinner), interests (debating, photography, writing) and friendships that don’t revolve around outing each other’s sexual proclivities (even poor Rob). This is based on a novel written by a woman. I’m disappointed her female characters can’t have an identity beyond their sex lives.
Her sexuality is up for judgement, his is not
Then there’s this undercurrent of ‘why’ both Marianne and Connell are drawn back to each other. From about halfway through, I thought we were going to get a revelation about Marianne’s childhood; either her dad or brother or maybe both, had abused her. I thought I saw a few hints of this, but nothing transpired.
The reason I am disappointed by this is nothing to do with ‘wanting’ there to be that storyline present. I felt that ‘the way’ Marianne ‘is’ was being judged. It’s easy to see a short jump from Jamie’s insecurity to him wanting to act out porn style sex to make himself feel powerful. But as she spirals into increasingly more detached relationships, I felt the judgement amp up. The sadder she is, the heavier the masochism gets.
But, and I’m no expert, that isn’t how it works. If Marianne is expressing her preferences, they are not altered by her sadness. They do not represent her ‘broken-ness’ and will not go away when she’s ‘fixed’ or happy. Here, I found a deep misrepresentation of ‘normal sex’, that is both damaging to the viewer’s understanding of the breadth of sexual preferences and the plot. So, if she was asking for things she didn’t want - why no address that? We’re left believing that she only wanted to be hurt because she thought that was the only way she was attractive to whichever man. Neither is gives Marianne much agency.
Connell on the other hand is a nice, normal boy who wants to have nice, normal sex. In fact, so little of his characterisation is about his sexuality, we only ever see him have sex with one other person - Helen. And it could be Marianne if you squint a bit. We aren’t asked to align Connell’s enjoyment of sex with his state of mind or his success as an adult. In fact, it’s a mistake that everyone forgives him for as a schoolboy - he was obsessed with people finding out he was with Marianne, and as Eric points out, “everyone knew” and no one even mentioned it. Whilst Marianne only experiences everyone’s judgement more as she gets older.
Where does it leave us?
I haven’t read the book. I don’t think anyone who made the series sat down and thought ‘let’s make this show shame female sexuality and erase female intelligence’. But this is the feeling I was left with. A beautifully shot, cast and acted piece of TV that doesn’t quite hit the mark on progressive attitudes to female agency isn’t a crime; but it’s a missed opportunity.
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Safe as (Haunted) Houses
So, @vic-kovac‘s Fall 2019 Fic Exchange prompts were so fantastic that I had to write two of them! I won’t reveal the prompt for this one until the end because of reasons (read: spoilers). Though vickovac will have figured it out already.
Thank you again to the most amazing beta around, my @fezzle! And so many thank yous to the organizers of @b99fandomevents!! These fic exchanges are a pain in the ass to pull off and you all do it so well. You provide a lovely fandom service and are much appreciated!
To the fic! (Or you can read it on AO3.)
Amy approached their perp with her hands held out at her sides, gun holstered, and said, “It’s okay, we can work this out,” instead of taking him down hard and sitting on him until Jake arrived.
He was just a teenager in a creepy bunny costume. She had him cornered in an empty warehouse. He was probably way more scared than dangerous, she figured.
And then the kid hopped straight through a second-floor window.
“We’ve got a rabbit,” she called into her radio as she raced toward the window to see where he’d gone.
“I’ve got eyes on him,” Jake responded. “Wow, you literally meant a rabbit.”
Amy spotted the kid drop off the fire escape ladder directly below and take off across the parking lot. Seconds later Jake was sprinting after him. Amy climbed through the broken window, glass crunching under her boots on the other side, and trotted down the stairs to join the chase.
The kid was fast and he clearly knew the neighborhood they were racing through, ducking down alleys and slipping between junked cars and over rotting wood fences like he’d been training for a quick escape. The bunny costume – a full-body getup that covered everything but his hands and feet and face – didn’t seem to be slowing him down at all.
Amy caught up to Jake easily enough and they ran side by side after that, one of them occasionally pulling off to try to cut off the kid at a shortcut. Jake tried calling after him to slow down and give the old people a fighting chance but the kid wasn’t even humoring them with a taunt or a middle finger. He just stayed steady and fast.
Amy was beginning to think they weren’t going to outrun him – she could hear Jake huffing just behind her right shoulder, and she had a horrible stitch in her side – when the kid swung into another parking lot, beneath a banner that read “Bedford Academy Spook Night,” and ran straight toward a noisy crowd of people and lights. They were going to lose him fast among all of those people, and Amy grunted and managed to speed up, just a little. She felt Jake do the same, feet slapping the ground a half-pace behind her.
As they got closer Amy saw that the crowd was mostly teenagers, a lot of them in costumes too, which made things worse. She kept her eyes on the bunny, glad for the raggedy ears sticking out on top as she dodged past zombies and ghosts and sexy pirates, and called out to Jake when the kid made a sharp right turn. She was actually picking him off, close enough that she could hear his rough panting, when he jerked suddenly to the left and pushed through a crowd of kids lined up in a row, and disappeared through a dark doorway. Amy sprinted after him, just at his heels, and ran straight into the darkness.
She jerked to a stop when she suddenly couldn’t see a thing. Jake slammed into her back, causing them both to stumble forward a few steps in the pitch black. Amy swore softly and threw up her hands to keep from stumbling into anything. She felt Jake grabbing at her shoulders to steady both of them.
“Sorry, sorry,” he muttered.
Amy bit her tongue to keep from snapping at him. She blinked in the darkness, which was starting to resolve itself into faint shadows. She could hear odd noises coming from all around, but mostly ahead – groans and moans, what sounded like chains rattling, and suddenly, a piercing shriek. She reached for her gun automatically and thought she heard Jake do the same.
“I think-” Jake said, but then someone was pushing past them, and a young voice said, “Hey, c’mon, you guys cut the line.”
A light came on and Amy shielded her eyes from the sudden brightness. Squinting ahead, she found herself staring into the white-painted face of a teenage girl, who held a flashlight under her chin, so its light made her skin look translucent in places. She had fake blood dripping out of her nose and eyes and ears and mouth, and she was dressed in a black dress that had been shredded in places. She shifted her flashlight toward Amy and Jake, who both groaned and looked away from it.
“You two have tickets?” she said.
“Tickets?” Amy repeated.
The girl held out a hand, palm up. “It’s five tickets. Or $10.”
Amy reached for the badge clipped to her belt and held that up. “How’s this?”
The girl narrowed her eyes and studied the badge. “Kind of a lame costume, honestly.”
“It’s not a costume,” Amy said through her teeth. “We’re cops. We followed someone in here and we need to find him. No one else can come in until we say it’s okay, got it?”
The girl rolled her eyes very dramatically. “Seriously? You know this is like the only thing that makes money at this dumb carnival. Don’t you even care about our charity?”
“What charity?” Amy said.
“I don’t know, it’s charity,” the girl said.
“Just keep it closed until I say so,” Amy said. She turned to Jake. “C’mon.”
“Uh-”
“What?” Amy said, impatient. By now, the kid could already be long gone but Amy wasn’t going to give up just yet. “Let’s go. We need to grab him before he finds a way out.”
“Can’t we just- let him go?” Jake said.
Amy stared at him for a long moment because that was too absurd for words. “He stole three cars, Jake.”
“Yeah, but what’s three cars? Maybe he took them for environmental reasons. He could be a climate change vigilante for all we know.”
“I don’t know what your deal is but please stop talking,” Amy said, and turned to go again.
But Jake said, “Maybe one of us should wait outside. You know, in case the kid finds another way out.”
Amy huffed in aggravation. This hesitation was so unlike Jake, who if anything should be elbowing her out of the way to run down the perp by now, all caution tossed aside. If she didn’t know him better – and after two years working with him, she knew him much better than she would have liked, frankly – she’d think he sounded uncertain, maybe even scared. But that was ridiculous. And anyway, Jake did have a point, they needed eyes on the outside to make sure the kid didn’t get away.
She turned to the mean girl watching the door. “Is there a security guard around?”
“Yeah, over there,” the girl said. She was inspecting her nails under the flashlight beam and did not give any hint to where “over there” was. Amy pursed her lips to keep from swearing and ducked back outside, where a very long line had formed and kids were peering around each other and muttering irritably. At the head of the line was a man with a patch on his jacket that read “security.”
“Hey, you,” Amy said. When the guard looked up, she said, “My partner and I are looking for a kid who just ran in here. He’s a white male, 16 years old, dressed in a dirty rabbit costume.”
“Donnie Darko bunny,” Jake said.
The guard nodded eagerly at that, so Amy assumed the reference meant something to him. “Where’s the exit to this thing?” she said.
“Next door up,” the guard said, pointing.
“Are there any other ways in or out of this room?” Amy said. The guard shook his head. “Okay, then we need you to guard the entrance and exit and make sure the bunny doesn’t get out ahead of us. And don’t let any other kids inside either. Got it?”
“Sure,” the guard said.
Amy was not even a little confident in this guard’s ability to stop their perp, but he was all they had, and it felt like they’d been figuring out logistics for an hour already. She needed this collar. She was going to get this collar.
She pushed Jake back toward the dark doorway.
“Amy,” Jake said in a whisper, as they paused just inside the door to let their eyes adjust.
“What.”
“I think this is a bad idea,” he said.
“Jake, I know he’s just a kid but stealing cars is big-time and I really don’t get your issue here. You happily arrested that 15-year-old two weeks ago for stealing some dumb shoes.”
“Those were Adidas Run DMC 25th Anniversary reissues,” Jake said, indignant. “But that’s not what I meant. Do you know what this place is?”
Amy frowned. She was blinking her eyes rapidly to try to see better. “Um, a classroom, I guess? Maybe a cafeteria?”
“It’s a haunted house,” Jake hissed.
“I know that,” Amy said testily as she inched forward, looking all around. She could hear more moaning up ahead. “What’s your point?”
When Jake didn’t answer right away, she took a quick look over her shoulder at him. It was hard to tell in the dark, but he looked pale, his eyes deep black shadows against his colorless cheeks and forehead.
“Jake?”
“Never mind,” he said, and ducked his head. “Let’s go.”
Amy frowned at him for a moment, then shrugged to herself and turned back around.
“Remember, we’ve got civilians in here. Keep your gun holstered,” she said to him in a whisper, and checked her own weapon to make sure it was secure.
“Only you would call high school kids ‘civilians,’ weirdo,” Jake muttered.
Amy ignored him and headed down the narrow hallway that led into the haunted house. She considered turning on her flashlight, but she didn’t want to give away their position, so she stumbled forward slowly.
She thought the place was probably one larger room subdivided by temporary walls painted black; Amy rapped her knuckles against the right side of the hall and found that it was actually made of canvas or some other fabric pulled taut. Black lights were strung overhead, illuminating streaks and splashes of something wet and glistening on the walls and floor, and fine tufts of cobwebs hung precariously from the ceiling, low enough that Amy found herself ducking more than once.
She expected spooky music or pre-recorded sound effects to make the mood, but even the moaning had stopped and now it was eerily silent. Their footsteps were muted on the floor, which must have been painted over too because it was so black she could barely make out the path ahead of them. The darkness all around was oppressively thick, like a physical presence.
Something small and hard-shelled knocked into her forehead and Amy startled badly and batted at it, before realizing it was a fake spider swinging from the end of a string. A moment later she felt something hit the top of her head and she swatted that away too, feeling a little frenzied when it got tangled in her hair. She finally pulled it loose and tossed it aside; it felt like a cockroach and she dearly hoped it was fake too.
She ran her hands through her hair, making sure nothing else was stuck, then glanced up when she thought she saw a flash of motion out of the corner of her eye, up ahead at the end of the hallway. She set her hand on the butt of her gun, and though she had no intention of pulling it out, the weight of it on her hip was reassuring. She crept along, conscious of Jake on her heels, and in the shadows at the end of the hall she could see the barest of movement, like a breeze ruffling through curtains. It could be a kid ready to jump out of the dark and scream boo, or it could be their rabbit. Amy grit her teeth and pressed on.
They were almost at the end of the hall, Jake so close she could feel the warmth of his body at her back, when she heard a rustle, a rush of air, and she was face to face with someone – two people. In a breath she’d pulled her gun and was opening her mouth to call out.
Then she blinked and realized she was staring at herself.
Jake screamed.
“It’s fine! It’s a mirror!” Amy said to him, trying to keep her voice low. Her pulse was racing and she could feel the sting of adrenaline in her arms and legs. At least her fight-or-flight system was fully functional, she thought wryly.
She could hear Jake breathing hard and when she turned to him, he was bent over his knees and had a hand planted against his chest, like someone afraid they were having a heart attack. She was relieved to see he hadn’t pulled his weapon, at least. Amy quickly holstered her own.
“It was just us,” she said to Jake.
She wondered if she should rub his shoulder or something, but they didn’t really do the physical comfort thing, and if Jake was anything like pretty much every other guy she knew, he wouldn’t want her acknowledging that he was scared out of his mind. That said: He was obviously scared out of his mind. This was a side of him she’d never seen before, and abruptly Amy thought, Huh, Jake Peralta could still surprise her.
She hesitantly patted his upper arm in a way that she hoped could be read as either comfort or just trying to get his attention. Jake looked at her, and up close she could see that he had gone even paler, his lips gray and his cheeks and forehead a pasty white.
“You okay?” she said.
“Yeah.” He swallowed hard, and nodded. “Yes. Let’s go.”
Amy gave him a last long look, then nodded back and led the way. The right turn ended up being a U-turn, and ahead of the was another long, dark hallway. To their left Amy could hear moans and grunts again, coming from another part of the room, maybe a hall or two over. She heard a girl shriek, followed immediately by laughter. Amy hoped there weren’t many kids in the haunted house ahead of them, complicating their hunt for the bunny. She wondered if they should have turned on all the lights before going in, but it was too late for that now and she wasn’t going to distract herself with second guessing.
She moved them along this hallway faster than the first, partly because her eyes were adjusted to the dark, and partly because now that the first scare was behind them she was feeling a bit more confident. With seven brothers, Amy had been through more haunted houses than she could ever count, growing up, and she’d learned that one trick to mastering them was showing no fear. The actors went after the easy prey – the screamers, the criers, the people who groped and stuttered through, so obviously terrified they could be part of the illusion. And girls – girls were always targets, especially young girls with glasses and ponytails with brothers who liked to set them up. Amy could never give her brothers the satisfaction of refusing to go to a haunted house, so instead she’d just simply refused to be scared. Or at least to show it.
Now, she casually brushed aside more fake cobwebs and dangling spiders as they walked, keeping her eyes on the end of the hall and the next turn. Every now and then a breeze would brush past them, carrying on it a wave of cold and the faintly disturbing odor, like burned hair or something sweet-rotten. Every now and then she felt Jake’s hand brush against her back, like maybe he was still having trouble seeing in the dark. She was tempted to shake him off, to snap at him to give her some space, even slowing down to turn toward him-
A hand jerked out in front of her, right through the wall. Its fingers were swollen and rotting, flesh dangling in bloody strips from the knuckles, and the forearm was bloated and mottled in blue and purple. The hand rolled and its fingers blindly clawed and clutched at Amy.
Amy gasped and jumped back a half-step. Behind her Jake squeaked.
“What the fuck is that!” he called out, breathless.
The hand lurched for them and Jake grabbed Amy’s hand, yanking her back with him as he retreated.
“Jake! It’s just make-up. It’s fake.” Her own heart was throbbing and she willed herself to slow down, to breathe deep. When she turned to Jake his eyes were wide and black and she could make out the sweat on his brow. “Jake, c’mon. It’s a haunted house. It’s not real.”
Jake took a deep breath and shook his head, “I know, I know. Sorry.” He ran a hand through his hair and Amy noted that it was shaking. “Sorry, I just, I really, really hate these things.”
“No kidding,” Amy said, which earned her a small smirk from him, at least. “You ready?”
After another deep breath, he nodded. “Yeah.”
That was when they both noticed he was still holding her hand. They looked down together at their clasped hands – his right, her left – and Amy felt Jake jerk his away. And she wasn’t sure why, but she held on tight. Then, after another moment, she dropped his hand and said, “Hold on,” and moved to his other side and took his left hand in her right.
“I’m left-handed,” she said to him, as though this was a totally normal thing.
“Amy-”
“C’mon,” she said. “Let’s get our rabbit.”
She tugged on his hand, and he stuttered a step or two and then followed along. Amy brushed past the mangled arm just as it was withdrawn back into the wall, and when she reached the end of the hall she ducked carefully around the corner, looking for their rabbit and for any other haunted house surprises. But she saw only the same empty darkness. After a quick check over her shoulder at Jake, who gave her a tight, close-lipped smile and a nod, she turned the corner.
Amy inched ahead, now conscious of Jake’s hand in hers. His palm was cool and a little clammy, but not unpleasantly so. She couldn’t help noticing that they had matching calluses – on the base of the thumb, the pads of the index and middle fingers. His hand was large, his fingers wrapped almost entirely around her palm in a way that was strangely comforting, though Amy was aware she was the one providing the comfort. She squeezed his hand without thinking about it, and when he squeezed back after a moment she felt a rush of something like relief.
This corridor was somewhat narrower than the others, and darker. The walls weren’t splattered with glowing blood or other strange marks, but there were framed portraits at irregular intervals, the faces pale and grim, and painted as though by someone who didn’t quite know what faces looked like, who didn’t understand them. There was something off about all of them, the noses misplaced, the eyes somewhat too far apart, the proportions all wrong. Amy felt like the eyes were following them, but of course they would have been painted to make it seem that way.
They were halfway down the hall when one of the faces screamed.
“Get out, cop! Get out of my house!”
Amy jerked away from the portrait, only for another voice to cry out behind her. “Kill her! Kill him! Stab them in the eyes!”
“What the-” Jake said, voice catching and breaking. Amy gripped his hand and wrenched him forward, and they picked up speed and dashed to the end of the hall and rounded the next corner, Amy barely sparing a moment to pause and scan ahead. The portraits kept yelling at them, and more joined in until it was a chorus of insults and promised torture.
“Want to pull all the teeth out of that cop’s big mouth!”
“Gonna break all the bones in the lady cop’s hands!”
They ran past a door against which something appeared to be pounding relentlessly, the frame bending and creaking, and past a curtain from which a bony hand curled around, ready to pull the fabric aside. Amy didn’t pause to see what would be revealed. At the end of the corridor finally the portraits stopped screaming and the house went dead silent, even the rattling of the door gone quiet. Amy paused to catch her breath and maybe give Jake a pep talk (maybe give them both a pep talk, honestly). Then a white-faced clown popped seemingly right out of the wall beside them and screamed “boo!” in their faces.
Jake shrieked and Amy yelled, “NYPD!”
The clown grinned maniacally at them, its pointy teeth dripping with fake blood, and Amy shoved her badge in its face and said, “Seriously, get lost.” The clown frowned at them and flipped them off, but disappeared back behind a dark curtain Amy hadn’t noticed before.
“Mother fu-”
“He’s gone,” Amy said, cutting him off.
“That was a clown, Amy. A clown with sharp teeth and red eyes.”
“I know, I saw him.”
“Clown!”
He was trembling all over, and holding her hand so tightly her fingers were aching. She realized they needed to get out before he had some sort of breakdown, or accidentally shot one of the kids. She was getting pretty fed up with this place herself.
“We’ve got to be close to the end,” Amy said. “Let’s just keep going.”
“A clown,” Jake said, quiet like he was talking to himself, and he let her lead him on.
They turned right and faced another dark hallway. But at the end of this tunnel was a rectangle of light.
“Jake,” she said, squeezing his hand. “That’s the exit.”
“Thank god.” He released the words on a sigh.
Amy felt a flash of disappointment that they hadn’t caught their rabbit. She realized she’d been so focused on the haunted house, and on getting Jake through it, that she hadn’t been as thorough, as careful as she should have been – checking behind all those dark curtains, behind the portraits and the battered doors, the myriad places their kid could have hidden if he knew his way around the haunted house. But he was just a kid, after all, and he’d only stolen a few cars. McGinley certainly wouldn’t care that they’d lost him.
She moved forward, and Jake’s grip on her hand loosened a bit, but she didn’t let go. Instead, she twined their fingers, locking them together. She felt Jake’s gaze on the side of her face but she didn’t look back at him. She was going to see him through the end of this dumb haunted house, and she wasn’t going to make him feel bad about it.
They moved quickly – past another door that rattled and a blood-red curtain behind which something moaned as if in terrible pain. They stepped over a wet puddle that gleamed a sickly green. A skeleton dropped down in front of them, and they were staring into the fierce, grinning muzzle of a dead dog. She assumed it was a fake, but the brittle bones, stained brown and black, looked real in the dim lighting. She pushed it aside with an elbow.
They were halfway down the hall, close enough to the light that she could make out people milling around outside and hear faint rings of laughter and happy chatter, when Jake stopped so suddenly that Amy’s arm jerked back, wrenching her shoulder. She swore under her breath and turned to glare at him.
“Jake-”
But he raised a finger to his lips, and nodded his head to his right. Amy frowned and looked to her left, and at first she saw nothing, but then a flutter of movement caught her eye and she realized she was looking at another curtain, this one so black that it blended almost seamlessly with the black walls of the hallway. She still didn’t understand what had drawn Jake’s attention, though, until she glanced back at him and he pointed up. And there, poking between the edge of the curtain and the wall, was the tip of a dirty white bunny ear.
Amy looked back at Jake and raised her eyebrows, and he made a few complicated hand gestures, and Amy rolled her eyes but she understood – he wanted her to block the exit, and he would approach the curtain. Amy shook her head and gestured back at him that he should take the exit, and he scowled at her and repeated his hand motions, and she gave him her most menacing frown and planted a hand on her hip, and they glared at each other until he gave up and moved toward the door.
He let go of her hand, and Amy felt something clench in her chest. It was weird. She shook it off.
Amy laid a hand on the butt of her gun but left it in the holster. She glanced once at Jake to make sure he was ready, and he gave her a short nod. She took a step toward the curtain, and reached toward the edge of it with one hand. She jerked back the curtain, and there stood their rabbit.
“NYPD!” Amy yelled.
“Don’t move!” Jake said, suddenly at her side.
The rabbit was standing in a shallow dark alcove, his back to the wall, and he raised his hands. He looked so young when he lifted his face to them. Amy felt a pang of sympathy.
And then he started laughing and he pointed at Jake and said, “You scream like a girl, man.”
Amy grabbed the kid by an ear and hoisted him out of the alcove and said, “You’re a 16-year-old boy in a bunny costume, shut up,” and she let Jake do the handcuffing while she read him his rights.
+++
The cheers and boos were pretty evenly distributed when they walked out of the haunted house with the handcuffed rabbit in front of them. Amy figured the applause mostly came from people who were glad the haunted house was back in business now that the cops were done.
The security guard turned out to be a decent guy, and he’d called backup while they were inside. So Amy happily passed the kid off to the patrol officers. But it was only one squad car, and when the officers offered to give them a ride back to their own car in the backseat, Amy passed without checking with Jake.
She sort of regretted that though as they began the walk back, the silence between them heavy and stilted. She had questions, of course, and he clearly was feeling bad, even ashamed.
Though they partnered often enough these days, theirs wasn’t what Amy would call a friendly relationship. They tolerated each other. Usually. Which was still a vast improvement over the mutual dislike-borderline-hate that had characterized their earliest interactions. Jake was still immature and unprofessional and a self-described lone wolf who had a hard time trusting, or letting himself be trusted. And Amy knew she was still stubborn and high strung and even, occasionally, overbearing. But they’d found ways to slot together anyway, and when they weren’t driving each other crazy they were a good team.
But this was new territory, and Amy wasn’t sure if she was supposed to ask what had happened in the haunted house or ignore it or tease him or something else entirely. She’d never seen Jake that scared before. Not when they’d chased a serial strangler through a warehouse filled entirely with vacant-eyed doll heads, not when he’d somehow gotten his hand stuck in the locker they all referred to as the cockroach nest, not even when a perp had surprised him and slammed him face-first into a wall and shoved a gun into the base of his skull – Jake, blood gushing from his nose over his mouth and chin, had just yelled at Rosa to shoot the guy in the penis.
Jake was an eyes-closed, head-first into danger kind of cop, and he almost always cast Amy in the role of safety monitor, which she hated because she wasn’t exactly cautious herself when it came to fieldwork. Careful, thoughtful and practical, yes. But never overly so. Around Jake, though, she was the sane one, the one calling for backup or making sure all of the closets and bathrooms were clear before holstering her weapon.
He’d been terrified in the haunted house, though. The kind of white-knuckled fear that had some cops requesting desk assignments – the kind of fear that might make a partner wonder whether he was going to have her back. Amy realized she couldn’t just let this go.
“What happened back there?”
They were taking the less direct route back to their car, now that they weren’t chasing a kid through alleys and backyards. Amy thought it was about a ten-block walk. She heard Jake sigh beside her and from the corner of her eye saw him stuff his hands in his jacket pockets.
Finally he shrugged. “Haunted houses are scary. I was scared.”
“A lot of things are scary,” Amy said. “Like serial killers with guns and meth-heads with very big knives and doll-head warehouses. I’ve never seen you scared around any of those before.”
He kicked at an empty soda can and the clang of it bouncing off the curb and into the street was loud in the empty night. It was cold out, and Amy shivered and buried her hands in her coat pockets too. She wondered if Jake wasn’t going to reply. She hadn’t actually asked him a question.
“I’ve been scared those times too,” he said after a few minutes. “But there’s no time to really be scared.”
“Jake, that makes no sense,” Amy said, trying to keep the exasperation out of her voice.
She watched his brow furrow, saw the pinch of his lips as he thought about what to say next.
“Haunted houses, their whole purpose is to scare you. As soon as I walked through that door tonight, I knew horrible things were going to jump out and scream in my face and try to freak me out. It’s just a given, you know? But real-life situations, you don’t know. And that not knowing, it freaks some people out, but for me it’s just – you prepare for the worst to happen and you do your best, and my best is pretty awesome.”
He shrugged and added, “A creepy warehouse with doll heads might just be a creepy warehouse with doll heads by the time we’re done, or we might get to arrest someone. A haunted house, the deck is stacked – you’re going to lose the second you step foot inside.”
Amy nodded to herself as he spoke, because it made an absurd kind of sense. Jake didn’t like feeling scared, or vulnerable, and a haunted house was basically guaranteed to make him feel that way. She supposed that she could wrap her head around that. They walked in silence for another block, both huddled against the brisk fall wind that was picking up, scattering dry leaves at their feet and making skeleton-limbed trees bend and sway. It was a moonless night, and in this neighborhood, there weren’t many streetlamps or warm window glows to light their way.
“Okay, but seriously,” she said, as they rounded the last corner to their car. “What’s the real reason you don’t like haunted houses?”
Jake groaned and ran a hand through his hair, and he said, “Fine, I went to a haunted house once with a group of friends and I got super scared and they all made fun of me.”
“And?”
He sighed. “And I wet my pants.”
“And?”
“And I was 28.”
“There it is,” Amy said.
Jake cringed and he sighed in a very put-upon way, and when she glanced at him she read all over his face that he was prepared to never live this down with her, or the rest of the squad once she told them. Amy had no intention of holding this over his head, though, or of telling anyone else. If she was learning one thing from Jake, it was that partners looked out for each other in all kinds of unexpected ways.
But he didn’t need to know that. Not right away.
THE END
The prompt: Jake and Amy have to go into a haunted house for a case (chasing a perp or something) and it's actually pretty scary so they end up holding hands (pre-relationship).
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