#i miss this silly little hat guy (unfortunately)

[kazumist]

scaramouche is definitely the type of person who would find you enjoying the smallest things childish, but he secretly enjoys it as well because he actually loves seeing you so happy over the smallest things <3

let's say one time, you and he decided to stay up because neither of you could sleep. and when the sun was slowly starting to peek out, you got all excited and started slightly tugging on his sleeve, "kuni, look! the sun is rising!" scaramouche doesn't get why you're so happy over this—it happens every day; what's so special about the sunrise? he finds it... a bit childish. (though he'll never actually admit that to you, or else you'd be pouting at him all day long, and he doesn't want that.)

but seeing your face being astonished with how the colors of the sky gradually change and how the sun slowly starts to shine, maybe scaramouche understands it a bit more.

[thehandmaidenofcreativity]

The Man Who Talks to Himself and the Girl Who Listens

WC: 6.7k

Rating: 18+, fluff to smut

Comments: idol!Seungmin and female reader. This is my first fic.. hope you like it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

•

“That doesn’t even make sense…”

You wouldn’t have heard him if the song hadn’t just ended. For whatever reason, that little bit of muttering caught your interest. You hit pause before the next tune can fill your ears. He’s sitting just behind you. You’re tempted to sneak a peek at what he’s doing. You’re sure he came in alone, so it seems he’s talking to himself.

“Then again, confusion is a higher sense of consciousness...” He trails off.

What a brilliant way of thinking, you muse. He goes on outlining a plan of some sort, maybe for a novel or a play; it’s captivating. Unfortunately, he would stop thinking out loud at some points, but no matter how long the pause, you couldn’t turn your music back on and miss any of his magic. Because that’s what it felt like: magic. He was filling you with such wonder; you could burst.

After a while, he gets a phone call, though, and the show comes to an end. You hear him packing up his things; you watch him stride out of the cafe. Silly as it is, considering you don’t see his face, you think he looks handsome - tall, with broad shoulders and a pretty shade of reddish hair poking out from beneath a baseball cap.

The next day, you decide to return to the cafe. You tell yourself that it’s just a nice, low-key place to get work done and enjoy a few cups of tea, but in the back of your mind, you’re hoping the man will be there again. You arrive half an hour earlier than yesterday and sit at the same table, sipping on blueberry tea with your headphones in, laptop in front of you. Fifteen minutes in, you hear the bell on the door jingle. You try for nonchalance as you glance at the entrance. You hadn’t gotten a good look at him the day before, but you’re sure it’s the same man. To your delight, he brings his things to the table behind you before going to the counter. Despite the mask, you can tell your initial assessment was correct - he’s handsome. He has his hood up rather than a hat today, so you still don’t get the full effect of his hair, just see the slight waves of his bangs covering his forehead. His eyes are quite dark, but nice, and slightly downturned, reminding you of something or someone that you can’t place. How can someone look so good when most of their face is covered?

For the next few hours, you sit transfixed by the man, at times sitting stagnant just listening to him, your own work forgotten. Eventually, you both have to leave, but before you do, you stop by the barista. “Hey, this may be a weird question,” you try to sound as casual as possible. “But does that guy who was at the table behind me come in here often?”

“Yeah, he’s been in here most weekdays,” the girl responded. “But he probably has classes or something on Monday and Wednesday, cause I don’t usually see him then.”

“Cool, thanks.”

Odd as it feels, kind of stalking this man, you continue coming back to the cafe over the next couple weeks, only skipping those days when you’re sure that he won’t be there. At times, you even jot down questions that you’d want to ask him if you could, but you never speak to him. You always sit with your back to him, headphones in, pretending not to listen.

At the end of the week, he gets a phone call. As he heads outside to take it, you hear him say that he’ll be back on the road in about a week and feel a surge of panic for some reason. You realize that you can’t just be the girl who listens anymore.

You flip to the document that holds your questions for him and grab a notebook out of your bag. You quickly jot down the two most recent ones, furtively glancing at the door to check that he’s still on the phone. You can’t decide if you should write your email or your number; you almost can’t believe you’re doing this at all. You add to the top of the page “confusion may be a higher sense of consciousness, but I’m so curious” and write your email to the bottom. One more look at the door tells you that now’s your chance; you quickly set the note in front of his coffee.

While you were somehow brave enough to leave the note, you're certainly not brave enough to hear him read it. You hurriedly collect your things and head for the door. His call must’ve just ended; he opens the door and holds it, nodding at you. You hope your blush isn’t obvious, but even if it is, he must get that all the time. He’d left his mask off when he went outside. He is one of the most handsome men you’ve ever not-actually met. He has a strong, straight nose, and his face is oval shaped - a good mix of masculine and boyish. You kind of hate that he’s giving you that obviously fake, pursed, polite smile instead of a real one, but why wouldn’t he; you’re giving him the same one.

The next night when the notification sounds, you don’t think much of it. You almost decide not to check your email before bed, but something is nudging at the back of your mind. You click into it and see the subject line: Allow me to bring some clarity. You’re a little stunned that he actually wrote you, because it had to be him; who else would it be?

His answers are short, a little cryptic. But he told you that he’s writing music. You have the smallest insight into his head, and you love it. What you aren’t sure about is how you feel about the fact that he clearly knows who you are. Well. Maybe not clearly. He guessed that you’re you, another regular, or the waitress. He also wanted to know if you have more questions. He signed off as ‘Thinking Out Loud’ rather than giving his name. You wonder if you should avoid showing just how long you’ve been stalking him, but you are curious. It’s time to go big or go home. You thank him for his email and copy over the rest of your ‘Questions and Thoughts’ doc. You also consider fessing up, telling him who you are. But you could be mysterious, too. Ultimately, you sign off as ‘the Listener.’

The night passes, then the next day. It’s Monday, so you don’t go to the cafe. The anticipation is killing you. You decide that if he doesn’t respond before the night is over, you just won’t go back. Maybe that’s cowardly, but it would be mortifying. He’d obviously been freaked out by how long you’ve been listening to him. So much for that hobby and unraveling the mystery of Mr. Thinking Out Loud.

The next morning, you see that you received an email around 4 am. He had replied after all. He didn’t answer any questions, though. It simply read: Same time at the cafe today? Smiling like a fool, you get ready for the day and try not to freak out about the invitation. It was an invitation, wasn’t it? You take a little extra care with your appearance - applying a subtle lip stain, a little eyeliner, and mascara.

As usual, you arrive before him. You go back and forth about sitting at ‘your’ table or his. It is possible that he hadn’t been inviting you to truly interact with him. You sit at your own table and somehow manage to focus on your work for a while. You figure you have a bit of time before he arrives, so you head to the restroom. As you’re walking back toward your table, you freeze.

The guy.

He’s sitting there.

At your table.

The seat across from yours.

You force yourself to move. He looks up as you draw near and offers you a small, welcoming smile. And you’d thought he couldn’t get any cuter. You sit as the waitress stops by to drop off his coffee and a fresh tea for you. She winks at you as she walks away.

“I hope you don’t mind; I hear you like the blueberry.” He smiles again and wow. It’s incredible. He extends his hand. “My listener, I presume?”

“You caught me,” you laugh awkwardly, shaking his hand. “I’m sorry if it was weird of me. You just seem so… interesting.”

There’s no way he doesn’t see your blush this time. The corner of his mouth quirks back up. Then he just takes a sip of his coffee and starts talking. You don’t even need to put your headphones on, because this time, he’s talking to you.

•

You both stay longer than usual. Two more rounds of drinks and a couple shared pastries later, you learn that he’s a musician and trying to write a connected story within an album, something he’s never done on his own before. He also, ears reddening, admits to not realizing he talks quite so much while he’s working. He answers your questions, even asks for your feedback and compliments you on your insights. You’ve always loved watching people talk about their passions, and today is no different. He lights up when he talks, practically glowing. If you thought his first smile was nice, then this full, joyful smile is fantastic. And when he laughs? It makes your heart flutter. He’s beautiful.

All too soon, he says that he needs to head out to his next schedule. You finally notice the time, and while you know you should leave, too, you’re sad that this is over. “Same time on Thursday?” you ask meekly.

He smiles at you. You try not to hold your breath. “Sounds good.” He gathers the last of his things, stands to leave, and gives a small wave. “It was great talking to you, Listener.”

You almost tell him your name or ask his, but he’s already walking away.

By the time Thursday rolls around, you’re nearly vibrating with excitement. How can one coffee date, if you can even call it that, get you so eager to meet with a man you barely know? Though in a way you’ve been getting to know him for a while, indirectly. Plus, music can be a very personal expression of one’s self, and that’s clearly his intention considering your first conversation. Two and a half hours before it’s time to leave, however, your light dims.

The subject line of the email reads: ‘Scheduling Conflict.’ He addresses it to ‘My Listener.” My listener. You’re beaming and feel incredibly silly about it. Your smile falls again, though, as you read the rest of the email. He lets you know that he won’t be at the cafe today, and he didn’t want you to show up and think he stood you up. He thinks that he’ll be able to meet you tomorrow, but will let you know if things change. Things at work are picking up for him, it seems. You try not to be too disappointed and resolve to be much more chill about the situation tomorrow; it’s literally just coffee with an attractive man who seems very intelligent and kind. Right.

So with take two on Friday, you stay busy and try not to think too much about him. Still, you can’t help being excited; you practically bounce into the cafe. He’s not here yet, but he didn’t email today, so you’re optimistic. Despite already brimming with nervous energy, you decide to have a latte today. You settle in with it at your table when the bell on the door rings. He’s sporting a black bucket hat today; it’s a great look.

“Coffee today, huh?” He takes his mask off as he sits, offering that brilliant smile. “What’s your order?”

“Oh, it’s a blonde, breve vanilla latte,” you smile back but notice that he doesn’t have his customary bag of writing materials. Your smile fades a little.

He grimaces a bit. “Sounds too sweet and milky.” He signals to the waitress and she brings him his customary americano without him even needing to order it. “So there’s been a little change in plan again today. I can’t stay too long, but I didn’t want to cancel on you again.”

It’s sweet that he made time for you, but you are disappointed. You remember overhearing him saying he’d be on the road next week, so who knows how long it'll be before you might see him again. If you’ll see him again at all. But you said you’d be chill today, so chill you will be! You talk more about the concept of his album, asking and answering questions and offering suggestions and compliments. All too soon, your cups are empty.

He checks his phone and gives a wry smile. “I need to head out… See you around.” As he stands and moves to leave, he looks back at you thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t be interested in getting a drink with me tonight, would you?”

You hope your smile isn’t too wide. “I’d love to, do you have somewhere in mind?”

He jots down an address and his number on the back of his receipt. “Great. I’ll see you at 9? Just call me when you get there, I’ll meet you out front.” He gives you one last smile before he puts on his mask and heads for the door. Across the bottom of the slip, he’d also written his name. Seungmin.

•

You consider trying to look him up before your date. It is a date this time for sure, right? You hadn’t told any friends about him yet, ‘cause you still felt a little like a stalker, but you need help. When Hana arrives at your apartment, you immediately spill the entire story.

“You never took any pictures of him?” She laughs. “What kind of third-rate stalker are you?”

“Hey! I tried my best not to be creepy… or any creepier than I was already being.” You get out two tops and a dress. “Okay, so I don’t wanna seem like I’m trying too hard, but I wanna look good. What do you think?”

She considers your options. “I’d go with the lilac. It gives you a decent amount of cleavage without being too slutty. What bottoms are you thinking?”

You pull out a pair of dark wash jeggings and black wide-legged pants. “Is it too much flowy or do the black ones work?” Ultimately you decide on the jeggings - as Hana said, they do much more for your ass. She consults on your hairstyle and make-up choices, and by the time you’re ready, your nerves have skyrocketed. “Am I crazy for doing this? Like he seems really nice, but I don’t know anything about him. And he seems young.”

“Oh, you stop that!” Hana rolls her eyes at you. “It’s been forever since you went out with someone. And so what if he’s a little young! Might be a good change of pace; he’ll have lots of energy.” She winks at you and laughs. She might be right. You hope so. Then, just like that, it’s time to head out. As you part ways, Hana offers a few last words of encouragement, “You’ll be fine! Just relax and have fun. If it sucks, it sucks, and you never have to see him again. But if it’s great, it might be the start of a fun adventure!”

You’re nearly to the bar, so you pull up his contact. Seungmin. Not for the first time, you wish he’d given you his last name as well. You might’ve been able to cyber-stalk him as well.

He answers on the second ring. He tells you he’ll be out front, and as you near the bar, you see him step out onto the sidewalk. He asks if you’re close, and you speed up a little. You tell him you are, then hang up; he looks down at his phone, head cocked to the side, clearly confused. You tap him on the shoulder and watch as his expression changes. Even with his mask on, you can tell when his smile lands. You meet it with one of your own.

“Shall we?” Seungmin offers his arm like a gentleman leading a lady out onto the ballroom floor. Once inside, you follow him past the bar and out the back door into an alley. Before you can question him, he points over to the right. A couple meters away, you spot a black door sporting red flourishes. He knocks out a slightly complicated rhythm, and one of the red designs opens to reveal a pair of eyes.

It’s a speakeasy. He brought you to a speakeasy. You didn’t even know that they had speakeasies anymore, though you suppose that’s the point. How does he know about it? He gives the password - flufflebuzz - and you make your way inside. It’s as you’d expect, a bit dark with a masculine, leather-based design scheme. There are small groups gathered around cocktail tables or in the booths lining the walls. Light jazz music floats through the space, covering conversations but not loud enough to make it difficult to have one.

Seungmin leads you to a booth in the back, saluting the bartender on his way. Once you’re settled, he takes off his mask and lets out a little sigh. “I hope this is alright; I know it’s a little different.”

You realize that he’s nervous, which calms you down a little bit. “This is so cool,” you smile at him, gesturing to the bar. “I’ve never been anywhere like this! How did you find it?”

“Oh, some people I work with introduced me to it,” he blushes as he tells you. Another little mystery. “Most people in here work in my industry.” As you turn to take a look around, the waitress arrives with two drinks in hand. They’re yellowish with a creamy foam on top. Seungmin thanks her before you can say that you haven’t ordered yet. “It’s a tradition here, your first drink is up to the bartender, but if you don’t like it, don’t feel like you have to drink it.”

“Well, that’s fun!” You give the drink a sniff. It smells fruity, though you expected that. You can’t figure out what its base is, though. You dip your pinky in a little bit. If Seungmin notices, he doesn’t comment on it. Your nail color doesn’t change, so you know it’s safe to drink. You pick up your glass and Seungmin clinks his to yours. You take a tentative sip. It’s good, a mix of sweet and sour. Seungmin makes a face, though. You laugh. “Not quite your style?”

“And he knows that,” Seungmin smiles at you before catching the bartender’s eye and flipping him off. They both laugh, and the bartender heads over, beer in hand.

“Not about the passionfruit?” The bartender slides the fresh drink in front of him. Seungmin just narrows his eyes at him. “I know, too sweet. I had to try, though. Now we’re being rude. Don’t wanna scare off your friend here. I suppose you’re really not a fan, huh?” He directs the question to you.

“Oh no, I love passionfruit. I think this is great.” You give him a polite smile, but they share an odd look and laugh.

The bartender picks up Seungmin’s discarded drink and takes a sip. “Happy to hear it. Could be good for you, Min. You guys have a good night.” With that, he gives a quick wink and walks off, joining another table rather than going back behind the bar where you see another bartender has materialized. You’re more than a little confused.

“I’m sorry about that. Chan Hyung is…” Seungmin looks thoughtfully in the direction Chan went. “A little over-protective. He just wanted to see that you weren’t… That you seemed alright. Sorry, I know that’s vague.”

“It’s fine,” you offer. Though you are still a little lost, you can understand looking out for a friend. “So is he not actually a bartender, or…?”

Seungmin laughs again. Now that you’re alone, you’re able to appreciate the sound of it a bit more. “No, not really. We’re just friends with him, and every now and then Chan likes to try his hand at making drinks somewhere that has a greater variety of ingredients. It’s for the best that they let him; the kitchen would be even more of a mess if he got stuff to make drinks at home. Anyway, enough about him, I wanna learn more about you.”

You blush a little at that and start answering the usual ‘get to know you’ type questions. You try to turn them back to him, but he deflects or quickly asks you follow-ups most of the time. He remains a bit of a mystery. You learn that he works with Chan, but doesn’t live with him - he has other roommates over at the other table, though; he has an older sister, which prompts a question that he answers easily for once.

“I’m 23,” he looks down at his drink, and you can just barely see his ears reddening in the dim light. “Not too young, I hope?” Though you haven’t explicitly told him your age, he clearly recognizes that you’re older than him. Despite not getting too many personal details, you are really starting to like him. And you’re pretty sure that confirms that he likes you, too.

“Not too young at all,” you smile. When your phone buzzes for the fourth time, he tells you to check it and heads for the restroom, stopping at Chan’s table on his way. He almost immediately erupts in the most endearing laugh with the lot of them. He looks so at ease with his friends, making you realize that he has seemed a bit nervous with you.

You look down at your phone to see multiple texts from Hana asking how it’s going, where you are, if you need rescuing. You let her know that you’re fine, having fun, and that you were right about him being younger. She immediately responds, asking if you’re planning on “closing the deal tonight then?” with a wink. At that, you put your phone away and look up to see that Seungmin's on his way back. The rest of the date goes on smoothly, moving from personal details to passions and interests; Seungmin answers a bit more freely now, his face lighting up the way it did in the cafe.

Before you know it, a waitress stops by to let you know it’s nearly time for last call. You’re both a bit surprised. “Wow, it’s gotten late fast,” Seungmin rubs at the back of his neck, looking down and biting that perfect lower lip. Hana’s question earlier pops into your mind and now you’re blushing, too. “Would it be too corny if I said I didn’t want the night to end?”

It’s a wonder you can suppress the gigantic smile you know is trying to burst out. “Not at all, I’m having a great time, too.” You consider the table of his friends and roommates over at the other table. Seungmin probably won’t want to ask you to go back to him apparent with so many others potentially being there. You hope you sound casual. “We could always go somewhere else for a bit. Take a walk or have a nightcap at my place or something.”

His eyes meet yours again as he nods, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

•

The walk back to your apartment is a little quieter than you expected. The closer you get, the more nerves build up. After a few minutes, his hand brushes yours a couple times before he interlocks his fingers with yours. You don’t try too hard to suppress your smile when you see his. As you enter, you gesture to the couch then you head toward the kitchen, running through the rest of the place in your mind, trying to remember if you may have left anything embarrassing out. “What can I get you? Another beer?”

“Actually, I was thinking it might be time to switch to coffee if you have any,” he ventures; he follows you to the kitchen and clearly notices your lack of coffee machine.

You grimace slightly. “I know it’s not very good, but I think I have some leftover instant?” His face tells you that it sounds as bad as you feared it might. “Sorry, I’m more of a tea drinker.”

“Blueberry?” He jokes, or at least you think it’s a joke. He’s lost some of the joviality he had at the bar, becoming a little harder to read. “I like to have tea now and then. Could I have something black?”

He agrees to try some lady grey and asks to look around while you put the kettle on. By the time you come out with your mugs, he’s sitting on the couch. He looks much more uncomfortable now. You don’t know if you should be offering to turn on the TV or some music; it’s been so long since you’ve had a date over. What will make things less awkward?

Luckily he saves you from having to decide; he asks if he can show you a music video. You pull up youtube on your TV and hand him the remote. The video he pulls up is titled ‘Stray Kids "특(S-Class)" M/V’ and asks, “I’m guessing you’ve never heard of them?” When you shake your head no, he turns to face you more fully. “How do you feel about how tonight went? Would you be interested in seeing me again?”

This feels abrupt, and he still looks so nervous. You give him a smile. “Tonight has been wonderful, and I’d love to go out again.” You expect him to relax a little, but if anything he tenses up a bit more.

“Me too. I just… need to tell you something first.” Instead of saying whatever it is, he hits play on the video. You consider his profile, as he’s actively not looking at you. Your head snaps to the TV when the voice starts singing. You suppose if it’s this important to him, you might as well watch. For a second you think you recognize the guys in the group, but you’re not sure why. Around 30 seconds in, you know that you’re looking at Seungmin’s friend Chan on the screen. You shoot him a questioning look, but he’s still focused on the video. About 10 more seconds and you understand why he’s so nervous. Your jaw drops. This time when you look at him, he pauses the video.

He’s still not looking at you when he speaks, suddenly very interested in his tea. “I would really like to see you again. To get to know you better.” He glances up at you, finally, then nods back at the TV. “But it can be really hard to do that when that’s your job.”

You really don’t know what to say. The best you can come up with is, “You sing so well.” Your stupidity breaks the tension a bit; he laughs then you do. “Sorry, I don’t know what to think right now. I know you said you like K-pop at the bar, I just didn’t realize that you, like, are K-pop. Wow. That’s really awesome.”

He laughs again. “Well, that’s one way to put it. I know I just kinda dropped a bomb on you. I can go so you can have time to think about it.”

Your “no” probably comes a little too quickly. “You haven’t finished your tea... Plus, I don’t want you to leave. I’m not sure I even know what to consider about it.”

He gives you a small smile before taking a sip from his mug. “Well, there are a few things to think about. I’m not allowed to date publicly. So if we continued to see each other, it would have to be a secret. And I travel a lot. I’m usually a lot busier; these last few weeks we’ve been on a short break. It would be hard to see each other too often.”

It does sound difficult. Maybe too difficult to consider with someone you just met. But you haven’t connected with someone like this in a long time. He seems like a great guy, he wants to keep seeing you, and he’s so, so handsome. His gaze is on his hands, giving you the opportunity to study his face without feeling self conscious. As your eyes trace his features, you imagine never getting to listen to him write music again, never getting to watch his face light up as he answers one of your questions about it, never hearing him laugh again. As he pulls that beautiful bottom lip between his teeth and raises his head to meet your eyes again, you know what you want. In the morning, this will probably all seem a bit crazier, but for now… you place your hand on his. You lean in and gently press a kiss to his lips.

You pull back and look into his eyes. Time stops for just a moment as you look at each other. You can see the desire in his stare; it matches your own. Then his hands are cupping your face and he’s kissing you again. His calluses surprise you - you can feel the roughness of them as one hand trails its way down your body and the other snakes back to grip your neck. As his tongue brushes your lip, your mouth opens a bit more in invitation; he accepts, deepening the kiss, his tongue mingling with yours. His hands trace your curves before pulling you closer and you wrap your arms around him. Each movement is insistent, bordering on frantic, as if you can’t get enough of each other. You want to dive into him. He clearly feels the same.

One moment he’s gripping your thigh and the next you’re straddling him, grinding against his growing erection, while his fingers dig into your ass. You pull back and look at him. You’re both breathing heavily. His hands are on your hips now, thumbs rubbing small circles. Your hands are on his shoulders, coasting down to rest on his biceps.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to -” he starts, but you cut him off.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you smile at him. “Plus, I did kiss you first.”

“I meant to give you more time to think about all this.” He shakes his head slightly. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”

You give him another quick kiss. “I don’t think I will, regardless of where we go from here. And I do want to see you again. I’ve really enjoyed the time we’ve spent together. So for now, do you think we can just see how this goes?”

He considers you for a moment, those dark eyes boring into yours. He looks so serious, you can’t guess what he’s thinking. Then the corner of his mouth quirks up. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

You give him a smile of your own and lean in for another kiss. You sigh into his mouth as his hands slide under your shirt. Your hands find their way into his hair as he grips your waist tightly before pushing your shirt up. You break the kiss to let him take it off, and he shakes his head again before cocking it to the right as he studies you.The look he’s giving you makes you think of a puppy. It’s so adorable and somehow only adds to his sexiness. “You’re really beautiful, noona.” He gives your waist another squeeze as he says it, but his grin starts to falter. “Are you sure about this?”

Your face heats a little at the honorific. Your gaze wanders from his face, down to your seat on his lap, and back up. You roll your hips, savoring the feel of his hard length beneath you. “I’m sure.”

With a small groan, he shocks you by standing up and guiding you to wrap your legs around his thin waist. Your apartment isn’t huge, and he already took a look around, so he knows just where to go. In seconds, you’re on your bed with his weight on top of you. He grinds his hips into yours as he takes your mouth again.

In a flurry of lips and tongues and teeth, you pull at his shirt, needing to touch his skin. He pulls back long enough to pull it over his head, then his lips find your neck while your hands explore his bare back. You should worry about getting a hickey, but all you can think of is how each suck and bite at your neck sends a burst of fire through your body.

A thought strikes you, “I’m - ah - I’m, I’m clean, by the way.”

Seungmin grins, relishing the fact that he’s made it difficult for you to utter a simple sentence. “I am, too.” With that, his lips move south, nipping at the tops of your breasts before he pulls one of the cups down, locking his mouth onto your nipple. He sucks, tongue flicking and circling, while his hands make their way underneath you in an attempt to remove your bra. You arch into his touch, giving him room to work. Once your bra is off, he moves immediately to work on your leggings.

Just like that, you’re fully bared to him, and he finally slows down. He’s kneeling between your legs, just taking you in. You take the opportunity to study him a bit as well. He’s obviously got some muscle, but he’s not built - it fits him. His shoulders are broad, kind of like a swimmer’s. Your gaze drifts down to the considerable bulge in his pants, and you really can’t wait to see the rest of him. Before you can sit up to continue undressing him, he’s back on you. He kisses his way from your lips to your chest, down your stomach, all the while murmuring how beautiful you look, how sexy you are. He nibbles at your inner thigh, eyes on yours.

“Is this okay?” At this point, it feels a little like a silly question, but those puppy dog eyes are back, so you can’t tease him about it.

“Yes, are you–”

Yes was all he needed to hear. The eager thing dives right in, lapping at your clit with a flat tongue before swirling it in circles. He’s barely begun and you’re already starting to squirm, his strong grip on your thighs heightening the experience. You can’t help but let out a small moan. Your hands move into his hair of their own accord. As he laps at your core, pushing you towards your release, your grip tightens.

He pulls back, and you suppress a whimper. He licks his lips and gives you a heart-melting smile. “Does hair pulling mean I’m doing well or do I need to change tactics?” His thumb makes its way to your clit, doing lazy circles as he asks.

It takes you two tries to answer. “Ye-yes, hair pulling means it’s good. Do you mind it?”

His grin widens. “Pull away.” He’s sucking and licking now, driving you wild. You have fistfuls of his hair and, despite his permission, are fighting not to pull. Then he inserts a finger into you, another quickly follows. Your grip tightens again, you let out a gasp, and you can feel his smile. His fingers are curling, massaging into just the right spot as he sucks at your clit again. When you thrust up to meet his mouth, his other arm shifts across your hips and pushes them back down. Your head spins as he adds a third finger. He’s not letting up, pushing you into the stratosphere. An endless stream of moans and gasps spill from your lips and a tear trickles down the side of your face.

“Oh.. Min,” you cry as you come. He slows but doesn’t stop as your body tenses and shakes, clenching around his fingers. As the trembling subsides, he withdraws his fingers and climbs his way back up your body, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses. He licks his lips again, then wipes his dripping chin before licking his fingers.

“You taste good.” And you can taste yourself as his lips find yours again. “I like when you call me Min.”

“Please,” your hand finds his bulge, pulling at him while the other starts to pull at his waistband. You’re not usually so needy, but your orgasm has only made you want him more. “Please, I need you inside me.”

His eyes darken at that. You almost wonder if you might’ve put him off with your begging as he pushes up off the bed. He keeps his eyes on yours for a moment then starts unbuttoning his pants. “Say it again.”

“Please,” you sit up to take over, freeing his length with a tiny gasp. You could tell he was big before, but seeing it is another story. An ache pulses in your core at the thought of him filling you up. “I need you, Min.”

There’s been a shift in him. He’s not moving as frantically, the look on his face is devastating - so serious, his eyes full of pure desire. He slowly positions himself back between your legs, a hand on your chest, slowly pushing you down onto your back again. He drags the head of his cock through your folds before rubbing it on your clit then settling it back at your entrance. He leans down, one hand posted next to your head, while the other holds himself steady, and his lips caress yours. He pulls back slightly, forehead on yours, gaze boring into you.

You know what he wants. “Fuck me, Seungmin, please.”

His eyes are still locked on yours as his body shifts, pushing into you slowly, allowing you to adjust to his size. Your breath hitches and a soft moan escapes your lips. That flips his switch. His lips move roughly against yours as he starts to thrust. He quickly falls into a rhythm, and now it’s his hand fisting into your hair. You break the kiss so that you can suck at his neck. He sighs, but backs out of your reach. “I can’t, ah, I can’t have any visible marks.” You pull his mouth back to yours, your other hand grasping at his back. Seungmin slips a hand between you, his thumb finding your clit, and you feel yourself winding up again. As you meet each of his thrusts, you can’t control the mewling gasps coming out of your mouth. Soon you’re moaning his name again, and he’s breathing heavily into the crook of your neck. His movements become more erratic as you both approach your limits. You squeeze around him as you come again, and it sets him off at a faster pace.

“I’m going to, ah, I’m going to come,” he groans. “What do I, ah, where do I…” he straightens as he pulls out and you scramble to sit up and grab at him. He lets you take over pumping him while you quickly resituate yourself. You get your mouth around him and can barely move before his hand is back in your hair, and the other grips your shoulder tightly. You can tell he’s holding back to let you stay in control as you try to swallow him down without gagging (too much). Your name falls from his lips as he finishes; his hold on you loosens, and you both relax back. His hands move to cup your face gently, brushing away the tears you hadn’t noticed escaping. “Are you alright?”

You smile up at him, resting your hands on his thighs. “I’m fine. More than fine. You’re just a little big.”

He chuckles before ghosting a kiss over your lips. “As long as I didn’t hurt you.” He lays down then, pulling you with him. With your head on his chest, his hand tracing circles on your back, you start to drift off.

•

[funnywormz]

top 10 lobby boy looks please and thank you rate this man like he's in an issue of cosmo and we're ripping him asunder

this was a toughie bc idk anything abt fashion and his outfits aren't described in as much detail as the manager but i still had fun!! decided to only use publicly accessible canon episodes for this (no bonus eps, nothing patreon exclusive) hehe. also let me reiterate once more that i have the worst fashion sense in the entire world

NUMBER 10: 4.10 - audrey burns

awesome episode but this fit sounds boring as hell. it doesn't sound BAD but just...... boring.......... doesn't even have a hat. sad

NUMBER 9: 4.1 - perry sherwin

he doesn't like it and i don't either. white is definitely not the best colour to be wearing when you're employed at a slimy gross murder hotel lol. maybe it looked kinda cool but thinking abt him trying to get the stains out makes me a little sad. also plain white is kinda boring imo....... although it could look cool in a kind of stark way i suppose

NUMBER 8: 4.17 - debbie houston

putting this one low on the list bc it's uncomfortable for him and he didn't like it which is sad. but it's at number 8 not lower bc i instinctively know he was serving cunt here. like i know he looked kinda sexy in it. but he doesn't like it and comfort should always come before fashion imho, hence its low spot on the list. also he didn't even get to wear it out of the closet.......

NUMBER 7: 4.16 - alex potenski

made the manager cringe but i think it sounds kinda cute in an ugly way. like he could wear this to a barbecue or to the beach or something. i like it when madam hotel puts him in pink.........

NUMBER 6: 4.7 - dorothy rennup

it's giving librarian. it's giving tumblr history teacher aesthetic. unfortunately i have a weakness for that kind of outfit so i think it sounds cute. it also sounds comfortable and warm which is important! and the collared button up under a sweater look is always something i enjoy................

NUMBER 5: 4.3 - the habers

we never actually get this one properly described to us which is why it isn't higher on the list. based on the hotel taking on a 70s aesthetic in this episode and the fact that even THINKING about this made the manager cringe kinda fills me with joy bc i know it was ugly and campy as hell. in my heart i know he was so garish and awkward looking and sweaty in this episode and i love it.

NUMBER 4: 4.9 - mr platt

i think this sounds cute sorry miss manager. once again i like it when the hotel puts him in pink outfits. by "coral" im assuming it's a pink/peachy coral type of colour which i think would look cool in combination with black. tidy but a little bit ugly in a way that i enjoy greatly. idk exactly why i like this one as much as i do. but i do.

NUMBER 3: 5.2 - it watches and it smiles

LOVE THIS THANG! underrated episode imo. i love the way this episode combines ominous terror with like, pleasant night time tropical beach vibes. it's rlly good. the description of the lobby boy in this episode is also rlly good. something chunky and very low to the ground that can't move fast but has very very long grabby arms and bulging big eyes and an evil grin........ i love it. sounds very spooky. love it when he's at the window menacing the guy inside. it's easy to get a vague idea of this creature in my head but hard to pin it down to a specific design which i think is intentional, and i rlly like it. very shaped animal. sounds like he might look at little bit silly if you caught him in the daylight perhaps, although that isn't necessarily a bad thing

NUMBER 2: 2.2 - cracker man

sadly we don't get much of a description of cracker man but im putting him high up bc i think he is awesome. bones sticking out everywhere, joints and the wrong angles, all skinny and tall and bulging and swollen and creaking........ love it. i bet he looks so scary. the idea of the monster chasing you being all broken and sad and in pain itself is very compelling. also the body horror side to the cracker man where he's constantly creaking and snapping with every movement is so uncomfortable (in a good way). also as someone with very creaky and sometimes painful joints i can relate to him.

NUMBER 1: 4.5 - robert watson

maybe this sounds underwhelming but hear me out. HEAR ME OUT OK! this is one of the few episodes where the lobby boy is described as wearing the classic red lobby boy uniform, and it's extra shiny and fancy and pretty this time. i think he was physically at his peak of lobby-boy-ness here. the red outfit with the hat and shiny buttons is a classic and it's his most iconic look ever. most people in the fandom including me draw him this way. it might seem boring or generic bc it's so common but to me this outfit is just His Outfit. it's the lobby boy outfit. unbeatable imo. if he was a cartoon character and wore the same outfit every episode i just KNOW it would be this one. it's a classic. i will not be swayed on this.

[selfdiagnosedeyemotif]

hi hello heres the some guy beating up some robot you ordered

(to be clear im basing most my fnaf game knowledge on ucn and my punchout knowledge on wii, cause like those are the only ones ive played)

so like in total the fight would involve freddy, foxy, marionnete, all the balloon children (including the lil uh oh how un fortunate bitch >:3 ),

the fight itself you would be boxing good ol normal freddy however he would have a bunch of paraphernalia on him, specifically: a thingy on the left side of his hat with a music box, his hat which if punched enough can come off and reveal some small child, and a vent on his right "abdomen" from which many things can pop out of.

fnaf in general is like about "resource" management in the sense that the resources are how pissed the various robots are so that would be translated over to this by way of punching different spots depending on whats necessary at the time.

now in punchout, hitting the head during stun is generally simply better as it does more damage. however, there exists the hat of many small fellows, and like every 5 head taps theres a "chance" (probably a preset order) of either bb, jj, or the uh oh how unfortunate one. bb does a real quick slap that cuts your stamina (the heart meter) in half. like does Current-(Total*.5), so like if the total was 8 it takes 4 no matter how much u have. this in fact could just fuck you over at a bad time, as bb is want to do. jj apparently does precisely nothing in fnaf 2 after some quick research, so she also does nothing but pop out and idk be silly. and little miss unfortunate circumstances could maybe sing her lil song and like randomly lower one of the other "timers" a chunk.

ok so punchout is one of those probably few wii games that avoided mandatory pointer/motion stuff but i cannot think of a better way to implement this one idea so: there would be a decent bit of downtime between attacks where you're not able to hit fred but he aint attacking you and this would be when you're supposed to flick the wiimote into pointing at the background, specifically a wheres waldo ass thing about "staring" at foxy for a brief moment to keep them at bay (relatively simple as its a large fox robot in a sea of faceless grey silhouettes), and if you dont for long enough they do the funny skedaddle into a big ol uppercut or whatever, which would just instatly ko you. altho it would have a big ol tell of fred stepping aside for a second and the loud stomping naturally, so you could just skip this and play as normal, simply dodging or perhaps punching back, which would do damage to fred cause you earned that if so. (im thinking you'd just be knocking foxy back into him)

the music box side is relatively simple, over the course of the match it visibly unwinds and you have to hit it to keep it wound up or suddenly marionette headbutt. probably 3 punches would keep it fully wound. the box's music would be like wound into the fight song but then slowly quiet down as its winding off, and eventually the lil jack in the box "last seconds!!!" thing would play too, and that would "force" him to do some attack if hes in neutral. you better get that stun real quick tho lmao.

power: thats a very core emchanic in fnaf, and i have 2 ideas for how it could be mixed in here, a: it be tied to that heart energy number of mac's that makes you tired when it hits zero and cant punch no more, however this feels kinda bs and like just not balanced, like punch out is not the type of game to have a kick u while ur down mechanic u feel me b, a much better idea in my book: the stage/ring has power. for this to make sense it would be taking place in more of like a garage or smth, crowd could still be there but like its less of an official thing. this would actually incentivise ending the fight quickly more than just for cool points. it would nt like charge back between rounds, and for actual numbers, lets say like 5 minutes 30 "seconds "of total power. thats a bit over half of the total possible roundtime and feels decently accurate to the like "win before this or you Perish" angle. running out of power would, first of all, turn off the lights ofc. at this point its dark and shit, you can only see glowy eyes and the power bar, rest is just a shadowy figure. punches of all sorts are faster, foxy is agitated quicker, music box timer is shorter, and just all around not very good to be here.

idk fully abt this idea but also maybe a star punch could just wind back all timers regardless of where they are including foxy (except the power ofc), and the t3 just fully resets em. if you hit it, of course

thats abt all i can think of that would fit without it being too overwhelming.

also fun fact your actual blog "website" has an ask box text limit that is barely over one paragraph

im so sorry for taking so long to respond to this but OUGH this is so clever. first off the inclusion of the wiimote pointer mechanics into the wheres-waldo foxy quicktime event is SO clever. i love that. also the power. thats so tense. i'd love to see all of the youtubers doing challenges specifically based on beating ol' fred only during the power outage as well

[ran-orimoto]

I am on cloud nine to see Junzumi fandom waited years to have so much content monthly. Drawings, stories. Thank you. Do you accept prompt games? The story of Junpei crying over the Koujirou newborn made me crying. Would you writesone similar shot? Izumi and Junpei deal with baby or Izumi conceives him and tells Junpei or whatever but I want more them x family stories.

{ • This Anon asked me to write this at the beginning of September. Of September, guys. And I’m showing up with this today, which is really embarassing but at the same time I tried writing as much as I can to make myself forgiven. This isn’t really any of your prompts, but I had this idea in my mind and I wanted to write it. It kinda fits, I guess?

• Some dialogues are in italics to indicate Junzumi is speaking italian

• I will explain more about my silly “worldbuilding” hcs on AO3 very probably. }

“SOMETIMES WE LET OURSELVES THINK”

Izumi rushed out of the weirdly-silent kitchen, three large dishes distributed on both her hands. She turned her head from a side to the other making her tall hat risk to slip off her head, but she didn’t really care when it actually happened.

“Who cares…” She muttered, trying maintaining her calm.

She couldn’t help beaming when she spotted Junpei standing in front of the only occupied table with his arms and legs splayed in a very theatrical fashion. In other occasions, she wouldn’t have needed to get closer to understand what he was holding and the reason why a toddler was clapping his hands enthusiastically. Still, that night she was aware she herself absolutely had to be the one serving those steaming meals, so she walked to the table with a triumphant appearance and that wide smile that could have never missed while she was facing clients.

“Here is your dinner!” She announced, placing the plates on the tablecloth with impeccable precision Junpei and the whole family silently observed in awe.

Then, she bowed at them and Junpei did the same, accidentally hitting the table and making it shake, its full glasses included. Izumi glared at him, as fast as a bolt not to be noticed, but she melted at the sight of the lively kid laughing at Junpei’s clumsiness. Reassured, she proceeded to apologize to their clients, explaining them unfortunately the blackout from a while before had greatly slowened the preparation of the last orders of the night, which were the adults’ spaghetti alla chitarra in ragù di polpo and the little boy’s cotoletta alla milanese.

“We will offer coffee when you’re done, and also our cantuccini, which I personally find extremely good along with a good liquor,” Junpei politely added , before vivaciously grinning at the child and his big orbs looking up at him with expectation. “And I can’t forget about this little obedient gentleman’s dessert!”

Izumi sighed as he struggled to put his colourful tissues in the many pockets of his apron…And the ones of the trousers hidden under it…And the other ones of his sweater. She did hope he wasn’t going to forget those things in there again, just like it had happened last time she had loaded the washing machine, had turned it on and had soon discovered she, indeed, he had made such a disastrous mess. She knew she should have checked every inch of his clothes, -maybe his socks too, who knew-, but back then tiredness had won over her after having waited for Junpei to return for the whole night: she hadn’t seen him for more than three months and she was so glad he was finally on holiday now.

They left the trio of diners alone, so they could savour their so-longed food.

Waiting for them to finish, Izumi and Junpei started preparing the restaurant for the night: she went outiside with a pile of blankets under her arm, while he was sent to the storage room to get a broom, a mop and a bucket.

Despite the fact they were pretty far from each other, their amused gaze would occasionally search for their partner’s silhouette or even their shadow. Both wanted to see each other in the middle of their assignments, especially Izumi, who found it hard not to often turn her head in his direction to spot the knowing looks he was sending to that child as well.

Sometimes…Just sometimes…, She told herself as she overlapped layers of soft blankets in a box laying on the ground. Suddenly, she felt a lump in her throat. She gasped at the realization she couldn’t give a proper continuation to that sentence wanting to take shape in her mind.

Thus, she stood up and forced herself to ignore what Junpei was doing. She contemplated the starry sky, instead, and those tall trees offering a partial frame to that scenario.

She considered her thoughts could have never been sent away by the wind of that night: only a much stronger and faster wind than that breeze could have freed her. Actually, it dawned on the young woman letting them leave on those impalpable, weak waves would have pushed her to spread her arms to the firmament to get them back and hold them tightly against her chest, so they would have never parted from her again.

Sometimes…Just sometimes…

She heard cheerful voices coming from inside and approaching her pretty rapidly, until Junpei’s orbs peeped out from the door window, accompanied by smaller ones showing up at the level of his knees.

“Chef, which dessert would you pick for such a good little man?”

She blinked at him impassively, too shaken by the effects that night was provoking on her, but she managed to crack a kind smirk by controlling whatever was happening in her soul.

“Chef Orimoto recommends…A good chocolate soufflè!” She happily exclaimed, totally gaining her composure back by putting her hands on her hips.

“Un fondant au chocolat!” Junpei echoed, resorting to that bit of french he had had to learn to play some tenor roles. He sniggered at that flan taking consistency in his imagination, excitement filling his veins at the mere drawing its contours in his fervent fantasies. Still, an intrusive memory destroyed that fantasy in thousand pieces, the same destiny his grin met. “W-wait, what?!” He shouted, dismayed, letting the kid’s hand go and taking Izumi aside for some seconds. His spheres, which were filled with the colour of his favourite food, were swelling of disappointment. “At lunch you told me we had no chocolate soufflè left!”

“Yes, I did. But now I will cook another one. I’m a chef, remember.” She simply replied him, doe-eyed and as lovely as she could get, and she abandoned him with his mouth open.

“This is unfair. Unfair!”

…

Just under an hour passed before the couple could finally close the restaurant and go to bed. The kid said goodbye to his larger, much larger new friend with a hug making his parents gasp in shock. Needless to specify Junpei didn’t mind that sign of affection. He limited himself to laugh so softly it looked like if he was in the grip of a hiccup attack. After all, how could he have kept himself from reacting in that way? It was so endearing to see those minuscule, -from his perspective, at least-, hands trying to spread as much as they could to press themselves against his belly.

Out of blue, the child reached out to him with a short arm, trying to find something in his shorts’ pockets with the other.

“For you,” He chirped, placing on Junpei’s palm a little toy train. “Because you said you liked twains. Mamma said I will share lot of my toys because the stwork is taking little brother here soon. I want to share my twains with you, Signor Junpei”.

It took a while for Izumi to make him follow her back home, but he still seemed so thunderstruck when she managed to make him move.

She sweetly smiled as they headed home below pinkish whispers of wind blooming like cherry trees, before Izumi’s mellowed sight.

Sometimes…Just sometimes…I like losing myself in thoughts.

XXX

After they had got married, the next step had been to buy a house that was theirs and only theirs; a house they could have called home; a house they could have decorated the way they pleased unlike the impersonal apartment they used to share in Venice.

Surely, both didn’t really expect Izumi would have got the chance to open a restaurant so soon. They imagined they would have remained in Venice for their whole existence, among gondolas and frequent floods, whereas life had eventually led them to the italian star par excellence: Milan.

There their previous efforts had allowed them to buy a lovely two-storey house that wasn’t that far from Milan’s center. That was an advantage for Izumi, who had decided to settle her restaurant in a pretty large alley of that zone, and for Junpei too, since he didn’t need to take the tram to get to La Scala theatre. His dream was to get to perform on that brilliant stage someday, -like it was for every opera singer, after all-, but for now he would keep on settling for rows of offers coming from the most disparate italian theatres…And for watching refined shows at La Scala.

They had taken months to finish furnishing the rooms of the first floor, besides their bedroom and bathroom, and there was still so much to do! Moreover, their living room was still missing the sofa they had ordered from a shop and there was a sort of hole making that room area look so empty.

Therefore, when the following morning that sofa finally got home, Izumi couldn’t resist to immediately try it.

Certainly, it would have been much better if the delivery hadn’t arrived so early, when they were still in their dream world, sleeping in the weirdest positions because the previous night’s tiredness had been stronger, much stronger than their good will to get rid of their work clothes and decently put a blanket over their bodies.

When Junpei opened the door, he was so sure he looked like some ghost with a considerable weight on, and who knew why he had refused help from the delivery man. Izumi found him forcing the packed sofa through the passage of the door and ran to him when he fell on the parquet, after having succeeded in his intent.

Now the sofa was at the center of the living room, just like it was supposed to be, and an exahusted yet happy Izumi was tasting how comfortable it was with her eyes closed. She heard the noises Junpei was producing in the kitchen, from him dropping a pod in the coffee maker to his thumb heavily pressing the power button; from him slowening his movements not to pour the beverage on the cupboard to him…Probably drinking it all in one breath, predictably burning his tongue.

He obviously cursed, but his pain didn’t keep him from approaching her with clumsy steps and placing his hands on the backrest.

They rapidly shifted, though, and rested at the sides of her neck transmitting a warmth that wasn’t only a physical sensation. Gentle palms went up and down on her skin and filled her chest with invisible fluttering butterflies.

“It’s perfect,” He whispered, so slowly it seemed he didn’t want to wake up a dormient angel.

“This is exactly what it looked like in your project,” She underlined and, in response, he bursted in a loud laughter whose power projected itself on her shoulders, making those caring hands suddenly generate an earthquake spreading in her whole body.

“It’s so weird to hear something I’ve designed has come to life, not going to lie.” He managed to confess among his chuckles which mixed with occasional ones coming from her.

However, she still gave her best to sound and appear as serious as possible, raising a slender index in his direction with simulated confidence.

“Well, first of all, it’s not that hard to decorate the rooms of a house…”

“You think so? Geez…”

“Secondly, you stayed grounded and didn’t imagine weird stuff,” She continued attempting to suffocate her desire to let her repressed giggles free. She couldn’t help recalling the complex wedding cake he had drawn on a random paper before they got married: it was as tall as San Marco’s belltower, -as he had jubilantly described back then-, it was made of enormous amounts of chocolate he had calculated with strange multiplications, divisions and equivalencies, -which she had obviously ignored in his blabbing-, and, most of all, it was impossible to be prepared. That was the reason why what he got was an ordinary three-layered wedding cake covered with strawberries and cherries, -choice made by the bride, who had also baked it, of course-, and with some chocolate chips here and there, -a generous concession to the groom since she couldn’t stand the idea of getting him disappointed during their special day…-.

“I like thinking big,” He shrugged, amused, as if he had plunged in her same recollection. He decided to sit next to her making the pillows she had accurately put on the sofa bounce and fall off it.

“And I’ve grown big. Maybe too big,” He winced in embarassment, scratching his head and hesitating before getting them back.

Izumi answered him by getting closer and latching onto his thick arm. She didn’t really care about the pillows on the carpet, since now that his broad presence was there, next to her, her contemplation of their new living room had changed nature before her sight. The scenario seemed to have transformed: it looked brighter and more colorful, fuller of meaningful symbols and signals peeping out each object, each corner, each millimeter.

“We’re at home,” She found herself muttering with emotion because ,at that moment, her reality finally crystallized, along with the awareness another brick had been added to the stairs of their life together. And yet, staring at that living room made her feel like there was only something missing to complete the picture of the most serene sky she had ever admired.

But she had never got the occasion to even engage into a minimal conversation about it, due to how busy they were, especially him with his opera and theatre rehearsals.

“Yeah,” Junpei blinked, pensive, and she braced herself for another odd comment of his. “I was thinking…”

I had no doubt you were, She rolled her eyes with affection and waited for him to continue. She allowed a part of her to begin growing a pinch of expectation making her hold onto his arm more tightly.

“I was thinking something is missing but I don’t know what it is.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her free hand flying onto her trembling chest as she pressed her lips: could he be…?

Trusting that unreasonable hunch, she pressed slightly more, searching for a safe icy ground to walk on.

“Cos’è?” She chanted in his flushing ear. “What is it?”

“Un soave non so che,” He quoted some aria he was the only one between them knowing. His chocolate-coloured eyes increasingly grew dreamy at her teasing getting imprisoned in his melody, until he tensed. “Oh! I know! Maybe we need a fireplace.”

“A fireplace?” Her crescendo sagged immediately along with her receding smirk.

“Yes, a fireplace!” He exclaimed and proceeded to create confusing patterns with his hands, adapting them to different poses and angulations. “I think it would fit below the television. If we had one down there, we would get a lot of warmth from the fire. At the same time, we would still be far enough from it, though, and the heat wouldn’t bother us that much. Trust me, I’ve dealt with fireplaces since I was a kid. If fire gets too hot, you will get a headache and feverish cheeks. The same will happen to you if you stay too near to it while relaxing.”

“You need balance, right?” He snatched a smile to her despite how disgruntled that unexpected turn was making her feel. His explanation was strongly reminding her of a moment they had shared in Digiworld: both sitting in front of a bonfire, her listening to a collected Junpei speaking about a philosophical concept and losing himself in metaphors and instances.

“You always need balance. This is…The only good thing my father has ever taught me, I suppose,” He grinned, focusing his attention on her again. “You know, sometimes I like thinking about us doing the most disparate stuff together and I love realizing I wouldn’t really want anything else from my life because I’ve got the balanced family I didn’t know I needed. We compliment each other, right? And no, I’m not only talking about you cooking and me eating your delicacies…Or maybe that’s another way we reach our balance, hm?”

Silence fell on them. Izumi frowned, unfortunately unable to express her gratitude because of so many doubts crowding her mind and overlapping with those already existing.

“Izumi? Have I said something wrong?”

…

She wanted that. He didn’t want that, apparently, at least, or ,perhaps, that impression was just a way to mock herself in an illusion about something she cared about and really wished for.

Lying her heavy spheres on the tidy details of the living room, she convinced herself a similar development would predictably turn that place in a mess, and she would have never liked to assist to a hurricane conquering that place. But again, they had bought such a huge house with some areas they still needed to organize and they weren’t really going to transform each of them in guest rooms, right?

Sucked in her world, she got startled when Junpei deeply inhaled and parted from her, making her feel cold because , right in that instant, she had started wondering what that house would look and feel like, completed yet without Junpei around. It would feel as empty as it used to be at the beginning of that adventure of theirs.

She observed his face warping in a very hilarious way, his cheeks bloating like a hamster’s and his lips slightly puckered. Then, he turned to her with comically-enlarged eyes.

“J-Junpei?”

“If you want to say something, say it and clearly!” He playfully scolded her and imitated one of those pretty exasperated sentences she had often shouted at him, back when they were younger and he just used to be a dude hopelessly chasing the girl he had loved for ages.

Izumi exploded in a laughter.

“You’re so right. I should be honest and tell you, even if I don’t know how to do that, for some reason”.

“Just do that. Then we’ll deal with what will come next.”

She stared at him for some seconds even if she didn’t really intend to, but she was really glad her pupils had ended up on his serene traits. What was the worst that could have happened to her? Surely, they would have remained together even if his reply wouldn’t have met her expectations: that was what mattered the most to her, after all.

She searched for a contact with his hand as she brought herself to overcome her nonsense, -in her opinion-, fears. Successively, like she would always do, she started a serious conversation with a question.

“Junpei,” She began. “Do you think that balance you have found in our life could be compromised if…If…Well, if we welcomed someone else in our family?”

“Someone else? Eh, I knew it, Izumi!”

Her green irises widened at his malicious snigger.

“Oh c’mon, Cara, you’re talking to the infallible Detective Shibayama. This is too easy! Let’s begin saying you were the one asking me not to send that little prankster away from the restaurant some days ago. Yesterday you asked me to cut that cod for her. I gave her some pieces but you begged me to give her the whole fish. And I’m your husband before being the great Detective Shibayama…I do notice when something makes your beautiful eyes shine the brightest.”

He was referring to a little stray cat that had showed up at the entrance of the restaurant from nowhere, meowing desperately until someone, who had happened to be Junpei, had opened the door. He would have taken the cat away from the restaurant if Izumi hadn’t dashed outside to check who Junpei was talking to. She couldn’t deny she was the cutest cat she had ever seen in her life and she had unavoidably fallen with those big light yellow orbs the creature curiously looked at butterflies with.

But this isn’t what I wanted to talk about!, She attempted to keep herself from getting way too distracted, but he continued talking about that matter, for her dismay.

“-And I did see you bringing those blankets outside yesterday night. I saw them before I came searching for you with the little boy.“

Izumi blinked at him. She blinked at him again, and then again and again.

“Hey, I’m not against getting a pet,” He reassured her, feeling like his confession had inhibited her. “After all, I’m always forced to leave you alone and…A pet could keep you company when I’m not around. I did play with the idea to get you a poodle once, because you do remind me of those…”

Izumi threw him a friendly fist on his belly muttering one of her “What in the world are you saying, you idiot!”. Nevertheless, she soon, too soon, quieted down, just like he did to mimick her mood, so puzzled.

“Hey, if you don’t want a poddle for Christmas and you want that cat so badly, it is fine. It was just a silly proposal.”

“Now you’re making me realize I would like that cat too,” She huffed. “Uffa, Junpei, it’s not fair. You’ve managed to make me change topic again!”

“Have I ?”

“Yes and…It was already so hard for me to talk about that, like I’ve already said,” She abandoned her weight against the backrest. The breaths that splayed her lips didn’t help her feel lighter about the circumstances, especially now that there was a beautiful grey tuft scampering after gusts of wind in her mind. Perhaps, that was a signal she had to resign to her failure. That day, at least. She could have tried again in the future, a future in which they would already own a cat she could have cuddled as much as she wanted…And held…And taken care of…Someone she could have given the whole love of the world to.

Uh…

“Okay, something tells me I’ve barked up the wrong tree, haven’t I ?”

She bended her head with mechanical movements and gave him an inquisite glance.

“I might have jumped to a hasty conclusion if that cat wasn’t what you wanted to talk about.”

Her mouth stretched on its own, wiping that crumb of melancholy that had fallen on its corner.

“Even the greatest Detective can fail,” She mocked him and that big grimace that had just appeared below his ashamed eyes.

“I suppose….”

She slipped closer to him again and they soon found themselves in the position they had left a while before, but this time there were many more question marks hovering above them. Furthermore, Junpei seemed to have perceived a different aura coming from the way she was resting by his side: he probably could feel her curled frame pushing against his sitting one with more intensity, as if she wanted them to melt in a much more intimate hug.

“Should I get worried?” He asked her with a wisp of voice. “You don’t look angry, though, which is good. When you are angry at me, your eyebrows seem to twich, you can’t help clenching your fists and jaw, you glare at me like if you’re about to evoke Trieste’s bora and turn it against me. You become scary. So. Scary. Anyway, this means my clownery at the restaurant from yesterday hasn’t annoyed you that much.”

She would have liked to ask him if it was true she would transform so dramatically whenever she got mad, but his last observation got the priority over anything else.

“I can’t deny your clownery at the restaurant does make me sweat. And a lot. But you make so many people smil-“

“What a relief,” He cut her short, so content. “Then, let me tell you this: if I had more time, much more time to stay at the restaurant, I would even set up spectacles for kids, with cards, flowers, motley handkerchiefs, a top hat and, why not, marionette too. And if I wasn’t so busy sometimes I often risk to even forget about my birthday, if I wasn’t so tense and terrorized whenever we…”

“Junpei?” She grew a bit concerned about the blatant sadness that was darknening his joy. What in the world could have turned him off so unpleasantly? Another proof she should have never ventured in that conversation that day, also because they were clearly exhausted. What they needed was their comfortable bed and not that demanding discussion for sure!

Then, he picked something from his pocket and he examined that object with a longing stare. Her ear resting on his shoulder let her acknowledge the more powerful beats pulsing in his veins and making her slightly swing up and down.

“If you ask me, there’s something missing. Definitely. But it’s not a fireplace, I guess,” He made the item spin in his skilled hands, which were showing to know how to deal with certain objects with a delicacy you wouldn’t expect on him. “I might have got confused because it’s warmth what I wish for, but it’s not that kind of warmth you get from a fireplace, perhaps? Dio mio, what the hell am I talking about? I sound so cringe.” He put the object on the short table and crossed his arms. He was wearing a very evident pout, but not one of those conveying irritation or disgust. It was more like if he was upset and very confused. “Sometimes, just sometimes,” His words amalgamated with his shaky breath. “I let myself think because it would be nice, heck if it would be nice. But I end up biting my tongue everytime it happens”.

Izumi felt overwhelmed by that quite unexpected development and would have liked to swear at that knot in her throat taking shape in there again. Nevertheless, luckily, Junpei interpretated her silence as an invitation to keep on going and opening himself, something he had improved at but also an event that was still so rare.

“Whenever we call each other and you tell me how much you miss me, I allow myself to imagine things”.

“Things,” Hers wasn’t a question without intonation. If only Junpei could have read her thoughts, he would have known how many meanings those things had to the chords of heart.

“Yes, kind of things that make me smile. I don’t want to imply you can’t take care of yourself, because I’m aware you are the bravest and best woman in this world, I am! I’m not talking about something like that. It’s just that we’ve been lonely since we were children and I feel like we’re constantly searching for warmth and light in our life, especially when we are not physically together. I could get them from a fireplace, but how would I get those when I’m far from you and I’m aware you’re all alone here?”

He stared at the floor and the abandoned pillows while she looked at him, feeling like she had fallen in some sort of déjà vu someone was enjoying editing the way they pleased. At the beginning, for a considerable amount of time, she just wanted to pronounce his name and repeat it over again and again. He had always claimed to be someone not being that good at dealing with words, those words he didn’t have to learnt at heart, at least. On the contrary, she had always believed he knew how to pick the simplest yet most effective phrases to easily access to her soul. In the past, she would often hide those emotions from him and the world, but now she had learnt to welcome them, not caring if they would make her so tacit for what felt like ages.

“So,” She said when she felt ready enough to face him again. She chuckled at his flushed cheeks, not realizing hers didn’t look that different. Indeed, hers’ round surfaces were also so humid and those drops on them were shining thanks to the rays of that budding Sun, getting higher and higher in the sky. “You do want something else from life, after all.”

He softly gasped, his lips trembling as he raised his head to her, his orbs getting more and more lucid.

“Yes,” He told her with a sniff. “I want that fondant au chocolat you didn’t allow me to eat yesterday.”

She fiddled with the point of his nose, pressing it with her index. She slowly made that finger slide on a cheek of his and rubbed that spot with it. “Only if you get me that cat before that.”

XXX

In a certain sense, she was satisfied about the fact their serious discussion had eventually dived in a bowl of chocolate, had sneaked into an oven and had taken the shape of a couple of cute flans.

They weren’t really people who adored living in a frozen atmosphere where darkness and cold ruled. Like Junpei had reminded her, they had always been creatures of light and fire.

And ,most of all, they didn’t really like making plans. Junpei used to adore scheduling whatever he wanted to do on a trip or during holidays, but she had recently got the impression he had learnt to follow the wind just like her. She wasn’t sure what that could mean about the future of their family, but she was certain she would have understood it when the right time came.

Finally tucked under their blankets, she heard the sound of the fabric below her stretching and pulling under a stirring Junpei.

“I was thinking…”

There was she, rolling her eyes again and pouring every gram of affection she owned in that small gesture.

“Let me guess. You want to project a new bed that doesn’t creak so hard when you move.”

“Ah, this is really good, Izumi! A bed completely made of steel wouldn’t be that comfortable. It would kill my back. No way,” He got even closer to her by rolling on himself. Now less than a centimeter was separating them and the scent of chocolate mixed with the one of toothpaste penetrated in each other’s nostrils.

“I was thinking…”

“Be quick. I want you to have a good nap, so you will be prepared to get me that cat tonight.”

“Right. Right. But, hey, listen: you asked me if a…If a…If a baby…”

Both gulped at that row of letters occupying that space left between them. Izumi told herself the shadowed room wasn’t dominated by a faint black anymore, but was taking life through streaks of colours twirling over their bed.

“A b-baby…?”

“If a b-baby could break that balance we’ve found as husband and wife.”

Right: she had asked him that, but she wasn’t certain whether it was still that important to her to get a reply. Even so, she encouraged him to continue and she raised an eyebrow when he addressed his odd wince at the ceiling.

“I mean, Cara, if we are still so tied to the elements we were given in Digiworld in some way, wouldn’t she be a little tempest? Beautiful, yes, immensely beautiful like you, an Ophanimon on Earth, but still a little thunderstorm. She would obviously break our balance, but not only that.”

“Didn’t I tell you to sleep?!”

Izumi pushed him away with her whole strength, concealing another emotional attack that had suddenly taken over her.

The breeze she had breathed in the night before gently slipped in their bedroom, bringing along variegated shades of pink and reflecting in those liquid crystals bathing her eyelids.

Afterwards, she pouted, though, and the turn to roll on herself in Junpei’s direction arrived.

“Hey,” She nudged him, sounding as irritated as possible with her hiss. “You are already showing gender preferences, aren’t you?”

But wasn’t she unconsciously doing the same ?

That puffy baby with that familiar spiky hair she found herself holding in her dream had visited her in her slumber just because she had fallen asleep on Junpei, right?

XXX

{ • “Un soave non so che” (A sweet something / literally: A sweet something I don’t know) is a quote from Rossini’s Cenerentola (Act I).

• Trieste is a city in Friuli Venezia Giulia, in the North East of Italy. Bora is the strongest wind blowing in Italy, which is typical from there. }

[clairethecutepup]

The Dreams and Nightmares We Share... Bonus Content: Deleted Scene

From Chapter: "In Your Dreams (Too)"

Chapter one was originally planned to have things differently, with Seve and Alexis going to find Claire on their own; while Sarah and Jimmy would've stayed behind in the village to absorb the pigs' admiration (Jimmy mostly), until the two goats brought Claire back as the actual ones to (hopelessly) disprove her "dangerousness." This deleted scene takes place after Sarah and Jimmy return to the village, where they come across a searching Seve and Alexis (the latter searching a trash can's insides), after their run-in with Claire outside. Be warned: lacked revision and all, so a possibility of typos and whatnot, as it wasn't the final product.

“Hmph, I guess they could’ve just been freaked out because she’s so weird-looking…” Sarah rolls her eyes, “At least, it LOOKED like a girl, I guess…?”

“Oh, I wanna see!” Alexis lifts her head, the lid hanging off it, “I love ‘weird-looking’ things!”

Seve asks, “Is that why you filled your ‘playground’ thing with those sock monsters?”

“How could you NOT love them, Seve…? They’re so silly and a neat, new way for socks to be inside shoes!”

“Because they were always trying to literally kick my butt?”

Alexis then hops over to Sarah and Jimmy, foregoing her “hat.”

“Please, can you guys show me?” Alexis gives puppy dog eyes, “Where can I see it?”

“Good luck,” Sarah folds her arms, “she basically ran for the hills, after Jimmy and I got too close.”

“I admit,” Jimmy adds, “I can’t help but feel a little worried about the small thing… She seems to be quite the nervous wreck, and others seem to easily have it out for her.”

“Who cares?” Sarah looks at him, “She’s probably not even another ‘real’ person sharing this dream, or however you guys put it…”

Alexis grins larger, “I still wanna see!”

“... Just keep going THAT way,” Sarah points, “Maybe you’ll catch up with her, but you might wanna hurry…”

***

Claire catches her breath, after hiding inside a log that slightly sits behind the forest line. First, some “pig-hybrids” started screaming at her and panicking, now two “full-humans” were doing near-similar! Yet, Claire found the pigs odd… Sure, it was possible for SOME hybrids to look more like anthropomorphic animals, hence their nickname of “anthros,” but it’s quite rare for someone to have enough animal genetics for such a thing. Usually, the presence of paws or extra fur would be the ONLY further addition to the standard tail and ears-- excluding the paw pads that could be found on almost any hybrid’s hands, even when they’re of the standard humanistic nature.

Come to think of it, those full-humans were odd, too… Hybrids are just as common as those entirely human, the former even outnumbering the latter in Claire’s hometown, so why were they acting so terrified and surprised toward her? Better question: how did Claire get to THIS town? All she remembers is climbing out of this very log and trying to see if she could find any friends or family. Claire begins to sniffle, feeling all alone and scared she’ll never find her way back home. Unfortunately, that fear is about to be heightened, now that goat-girl has found wolf-girl. Alexis could never miss a big, blue tail sticking outside of a log.

She peers in, “Hi!”

Claire jolts up, easily standing on all fours without hitting her head. Before her equally-lengthened arms and legs can bolt off, she looks over her shoulder to see who exactly it is. Wait, was this ANOTHER “anthro” hybrid…?

“Oops, sorry!” Alexis continues, “I didn’t mean to scare you, I just wanted to see what you were like! So, can I? I promise I won’t bite!”

Well, this strange person wasn’t acting all scared and shouty, so maybe Claire didn’t need to get out of here…? Trembling, Claire slowly turns around, still having her arms serve as additional legs. Well, she’s not as “weird” as Alexis might’ve been hoping for, but that doesn’t mean she has no appeal! Those big, blue eyes, those big and soft big paws for hands-- how could Alexis NOT just need to squeeze her?! Claire barely had time to react toward the sudden oncoming hug, much to her horrified dismay…

“Oh my gosh,” Alexis squealed, “you’re so cute!”

Alexis always fawned over whatever non-goat creature was currently before her, whether it be: spiders, puppies, or whatever THIS was. Of course, many often dreaded the thought of her actually caring for such things, with Seve even fearing the idea of Alexis being trusted with a simple pet rock. Actually, mention the name, “Hamilton” and you’ll get a sniffle from Alexis, as she recalls the shattered rock she found herself burying the pieces of-- little coffin included. Not to say Alexis was some oblivious abuser to whatever couldn’t speak and all, she just had her… quirks.

Fortunately, Claire is luckier: Alexis’ hug is tight, but not crushing nor suffocating. Still, despite how kind and gentle Alexis may be, Claire is STILL being held by a complete stranger and without any comforting, familiar face around to help if things go wrong. Plus, Alexis’ appearance made the pup uneasy: there was something about the dreary and gothic nature to Alexis’ overall appearance, alongside the sharp horn and sharpness of her hooved digits… Alexis frowns at how Claire trembles against her and keeps her eyes shut tightly, as if expecting the goat to suddenly tear her apart.

“Aww, don’t be afraid…” Alexis nuzzles her head into Claire’s, “I really WON’T hurt you, I promise!” she giggles, “You’re so soft and tiny, how could those pigs think you were some big, scary monster?”

Claire opens an eye, finally believing that Alexis was more cuddler than murderer.

“Hey, Lexi, where are ya?” Seve calls out, “Did you get your fill of ‘weird looks’ or whatever?”

“I found her, Seve!” Alexis comes out, still holding Claire, “Say, do you think we could keep her around…?”

Seve folds his arms and raises an eyebrow.

“Hamilton.”

Alexis sniffles a little, but shakes her head and snaps herself out of it.

“I don’t mean it like I’m gonna ‘KEEP her, keep her,’ Seve, just keep her with us until we wake up!”

“I don’t know…” Seve looks up and taps his foot, “It feels kind of creepy to basically FORCE someone to just tag along with us.”

“Maybe she WANTS to!” Alexis then looks to Claire, “Please, come with us…? We promise to be a lot nicer to you than those pigs were…”

“Actually,” Seve protests, “MY treatment’s gonna depend on how YOU treat me first…”

Alexis repeats, “Please…?”

Well, it’s not exactly like Claire already had someone else to depend on currently… Not to mention, though intense as Alexis may come off to the pup, she genuinely seems to like Claire and probably won’t do worse than surprise hugs. Plus, Alexis’ friendliness and energy did have a soothing familiarity to it, akin to her “big buddy” of Leena. Claire nods, causing Alexis to tighten the embrace.

“Yay, we’ve got a new friend!” Alexis cheers, “So, what’s YOUR name? I’M Alexis, and THAT’S Seve!” she then notices the collar worn, “Oh wait, is it on THERE?” she takes the tag into a hoof, “‘Clarissa Vellll--’... Uh, Seve, how do you pronounce that other name?”

Wait, this girl wore a collar…? Was she someone’s weird pet? Well, whatever, Seve’s seen crazier in his dreams. May as well take a look himself… Only to realize he’s also plum out of luck on figuring out how “Vlcek” is supposed to be pronounced.

“I think we’ll be fine just sticking to the first name,” Seve sighs, then perks up, “Hold on, it looks like she’s got phone numbers on here…”

Oh right, Claire’s tag! Some preferred medical bracelets for those of health issues or… “mental concerns,” to put it nicely, and some found collars more convenient. Hey, in a world of animal-hybrids, such neckwear could be considered fashionable beyond standard pets. Maybe she could get them to call home and have her family take her back? She needs to literally point it out and tell them-- to the best of her abilities, anyway.

“Call home!” Claire smiles, “Call par--”

Claire freezes. Did she just speak out ENTIRE words…? 

“... Am I talking right?” she asks, “I think so…”

“Uh, yeah, you’re talking…” Seve raises an eyebrow, “So, you’re saying you want us to call your house or whatever?”

Claire nods, as her eyes dart around in wonderment toward her mouth’s sudden lack of missing syllables and letters.

“Oh, I know!” Alexis suggests,

[End of Content]

[usagis-tsukinos]

Brutal Love - 17

Read, Comment, or Kudo on Ao3!

Chapter 16

Chapter 18

Halloween Time!

Pairing: Lucifer x F!Reader

Rating: M/18+

Warnings: None

Words: 1,688

Ages: 20/22

Lucifer laid underneath his car in the driveway, doing some work as she sat on a little fold up chair next to it, his toolbag on her lap as she sat on her phone. “Can you hand me that wrench?” Lucifer asked, reaching his hand out from underneath as she gave it to him, noticing his water bottle was completely empty. “I’ll be right back, okay?” “Where are you going?” “I’m getting you some water, silly. I don’t want you dying of dehydration!” He watched her heels from underneath the car as the October breeze attempted to meet him there before she came back, his water in hand.

“Just set it right there, I’ll get it in a second.” As she did, one of the neighborhood women called for her, causing her to pause on moving back up her position so that Lucifer, if he really tried, could look up her skirt. It would be a lie to say he didn’t and found himself staring at her panties before actually hearing their neighbors voice. “Are you guys setting up candy for the kids this year?” He heard their neighbor ask and she replied to them, “Yes! My mom’s gonna hand out candy and I’m gonna trick or treat this year!” “Are you going with Gabriel like you always do?”

“That’s the plan! Unless he’s not feeling good. I can always go with Lucifer, I already have our outfits picked out!” With that Lucifer lifted his head, hitting it off the bottom of the car and mumbled an “Ow!” as he pushed himself out from under the car.

“You can’t just decide I’m going to trick or treat with you!” He argued, lifting himself off the under car roller and standing up, covered in grease and dirt. Lucifer watched her stare at him and he almost forgot she was attracted to him even more when he’s done manual labor. She cleared her throat, “Well, it wouldn’t be too bad! If you did go with me, we could be cowboys! That’s what Gabe and I are supposed to be.”

Lucifer stared at her for a second as she walked over and grabbed his oil covered hand, “What makes you think I’m gonna dress up as a cowboy with you? Also, your dress is gonna get dirty with you being near me.” Their neighbor laughed, “It’s so nice to see you two finally dating. When she’d babysit my kids on the weekends, she used to tell them all about you, Lucifer.” He rolled his eyes, muttering, “Not dating!”

But her face lit up as it always did at someone thinking they were a couple. She squeezed his hand and went on her tippy toes, kissing his dirty cheek, causing his glare to soften even if he tried not to show it. “Please dress up with me, Lucifer? It’ll be so much fun! We can share the candy we get and if Gabe can’t come with us, I’ll just let everyone know it’s for him.”

“You’re not convincing me of this.”

Lucifer sat on the sidewalk outside their home a couple weeks later, grumbling to himself as he watched his phone and scratched at the string under his chin that held that stupid cowboy hat on. She was still getting ready, Gabriel unfortunately having the flu and couldn’t make it. She had spent 30 minutes so far telling him at the door, despite Michael’s orders for him to lay down saying how much she was gonna miss him and that she’d make sure to get all his favorite candy.

“Can we just go?” Lucifer yelled, not looking up as she hugged Gabriel bye for the seventh time and rushed over to Lucifer. “I’m ready! We can go!” She held a few pumpkin holders in her hands, “in case they ran out of room.”

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this.” He grumbled, putting his phone in his back pocket and standing up. Yet he didn’t even shave for this, his stubble coming through nicely as she wrapped her arms around him in a hug, “But I’m happy we are. You look so handsome, thanks for coming out with me.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, waiting for her to let him go before getting out his toy gun and pretending to shoot her, making a noise with his lips before she playfully grabbed her chest and fell over, dramatically saying she was shot.

He wondered how long he could get her to do that before he got bored. Turns out three times is enough. They walked around the neighborhood, holding his hand as they went door to door, getting compliments on their “couple costume”. “Not a couple.” Lucifer would tell them, watching the sun go down as it began to get dark. As they walked around, she looked up at him, “Are you having a good time?” Lucifer thought for a moment, mumbling and admitting, “Yeah, it’s fine.” He looked around for a second, “I wanna go walk in those woods over there.” She stopped as he took a step forward, causing him to look back, “What, you scared?” She looked around before looking at him and the woods, “N-No, but-” “Come on, it’s Halloween.” He nudged, before walking back over to her, “You think I’m gonna let somebody get you?” Lucifer spoke softly, leaning over her. “It’s dark in there, Lucifer, and what if we get lost-”

“We’re not gonna get lost. I know those woods like the back of my hand. Come on, you chicken.” She stayed close, grabbing his arm as they walked towards the woods, it was almost completely nightfall. The only sounds they could hear were the leaves crunching under their feet as they walked.

Finally, they found a tree stump and some leaves, her sitting on the stump and him laying in the leaves. She watched as he laid there, relaxing as they spent a good three and a half hours walking around the neighborhood and somehow managing to fill up their three little pumpkins: one for her, one for him, and of course, one for Gabriel. “W-We should head home soon,” She said, shivering a bit as the cold air began to pick up. “You’re just scared.” Lucifer said, closing his eyes before feeling her weight on his pelvis.

He opened his eyes, seeing her straddling him, her cowgirl skirt rising up a bit as she pouted down at him. Lucifer moved his head to the side, “Can I help you?” “I just like sitting on your lap, plus, I feel safer like this.”

“Oh, my- we’re not gonna get killed!” “You don’t know that! It’s Halloween!” Lucifer rolled his eyes, feeling his cock harden at the feel of her on top of him. He tried to ignore it, but she moved slightly, causing her to sit right on it before she paused. “I’m sorry.” He made a confused face, “Why?” “I-I don’t know, I’m just sorry. Are you uncomfortable?” “No?” Taking a moment, he thought this over, feeling her warmth through their clothes as he smirked to himself. He was gonna tease her, because why not? It’s his job.

Moving his hands slowly up her legs, his fingers grazed her skin before finding her skirt, stopping right at the edge before he lifted his hips to grind against her. “Come on, cowgirl,” Lucifer murmured, hearing her gasp, “Aren’t you going to ride me like a pony?” His hands went up her skirt, feeling her soft skin before grabbing her ass and holding her roughly against him as he lifted her hips again, causing her to moan. He sat up a bit to move her hips for her before she began just moving them on her own, him laying back down as he moaned softly and she tried not to make any noise. She placed her hands on his chest and held her weight there, moving her hips against his jeans as he praised her softly, “That’s it, ride me. Fuck, ride me. Good girl.”

Lucifer lifted his hips to hers, sighing at the feeling of how wet she was as she grinded down on him. She saw her phone light up on the stump, but Lucifer held her tighter, “Answer it later. We’re doing something.” She moved faster, getting close as she tried to cover her mouth. “No one’s gonna hear you,” He reassured, thrusting harder and moving his hands up to her breasts to cup them over her costume before undoing the buttons and grabbing her bra. “Lucifer,” She whined as he groped her roughly, trying so hard to get off as he pulsed through his jeans, repeating his name as she got close, hunching forward and gripping the vest he wore before she came, Lucifer following suit before she laid on top of him a bit, trying to catch her breath.

After a few minutes, he spoke up, “You’re right, we should go home.” She nodded, attempting to get off him but her legs failed, so he had to sit her back down on the stump as she tried to relax her legs for a bit. He looked at his own phone, also seeing that he had missed a call: Gabriel had called both to check on them, but more about her than anything. She texted him back, saying they were fine and would be home in the next ten or so minutes.

When they got home, she rushed to Gabriel’s room, giving him his candy and gushing about how much fun they had and how she missed him. Gabe smiled before seeing her knees, “Why are your knees kinda dirty?” “Oh, I fell. We went in the woods for a bit because Lucifer wanted to scare me-” “I did not!” Could be heard from the living room downstairs, but Gabriel nodded, a little weary but he trusted her and decided not to ask any questions.

“But you shouldn’t get sick next year, so we’ll be able to go then!”

“Did you have a pairing in mind?” “No, but I can’t wait either way.” She smiled, opening up a Milky Way for him.

[missvifdor]

(The continuation of this post where during a spell class a portal opened and the boys' female doubles as well as MC's appeared in the class) (I think I could make it an independent "story" for the adventures of my MC /OC /YUU)

My MC /OC /YUU and his double crossing the gaze in the class: * Double bi panic *

*Now we will have to find a solution to bring these young ladies and this gentleman back to their reality, but in the meantime here is the look of our twisted guys if they were girls*

Dorm leaders:

Riddle: Looks both serious and cute, with a round cheeky face and big eyes with long thick lashes as well as a pretty pixie haircut. Obviously she stays small but is always bigger than my MC OC YUU, her voice both soft and sharp, a very interesting contrast.

Leona: Made more of a woman than a young girl, still has magnificent hair, bewitching eyes and has a very toned and nicely muscular body. His voice is deep with that tone both seductive and bored. She knows perfectly well that she is beautiful, that she has charm and adores the handset with her immense intelligence. It's an absolutely formidable combo. She is the same height as her male double.

Azul: Gives that mafia-like aura (Or Sugar Mummy), with her hair styled in an impeccable bun and her tailor that is both professional and flatters her gorgeous figure perfectly. Her smile is both sweet and dangerous. But we all know that deep down she is a sweet girl who needs reassurance and who needs to realize how smart, hardworking, and beautiful she is (and we know any of us don't would stop proving it to her). She must be two or three centimeters shorter than her male double.

Kalim: She's still a sun ball and a full cinnamon roll! So positive and supportive! Tie up her long silver hair with a cute headband and always do her makeup in warm tones (where instead Jamil helps her with her makeup like that). Always wears tons of gold bracelets on her wrists and ankles, is very tactile, and has no problem cuddling the people she loves and appreciates! Is the kind of friend who makes sure you eat well and that you don't miss anything. (I can see her thinking that she and Jamil have more of a sister relationship than a master and servant relationship). Is exactly the same size as her male double.

Vil: Let's be honest here, Vil would be the most gorgeous woman who hasn't set foot at Night Raven College for decades after The Beautiful Queen! You almost feel like she's straight out of a fashion magazine but no, it's just that our Reine des Poisons takes so much care of her and works so hard to come to such potential! Her magnificent hair would reach her shoulders, her voice would be as beautiful as honey on a slice of bread and her makeup and manicure would be as perfect as it gets! Maybe she would be a little taller than her male double (even without heels). (I don't know why but apart from her care and makeup, I also see her very well making her own jewelry as well as her perfume).

Idia: Haired with two long, fiery quilts, she would be more the type to have an e-girl style but with very loose clothes that would not show her forms (the poor one does not realize that she has the potential to become a model for lingerie). Her voice would be both sweet and high-pitched, and she could also be smaller than her male double. (And Husbando, so many Husbando!). Doesn't trust her smile because of her sharp teeth but that is her charm and she is so fucking cute! Maybe she would be more organized and manic than her double even if her room would still be in a very big mess (at least she didn't leave her underwear lying around in plain sight, she would die of shame if anyone saw the cute and childish little designs on it).

Malleus: This woman ... Would be exactly the same size as her male double! And she would be so beautiful and elegant! With long black hair that she would let hang down her back, as well as her incredible figure! (Also gives those Magical Sugar Mummy vibes). His voice, by all the gods ... The most sensual and that playful note we've ever heard. Her voice is also so deep and sweet (let's not even talk about her laugh or I'll die of happiness). Still gives that awesome and intimidating impression on people but is so sweet when you get to know her (Always make that adorable pout when she's sad or upset, you feel like hugging her tight and telling her that even though she is scary in the early days, she's the sweetest person we've ever met!).

The Vice-leader:

Trey: Don't lie to each other, give these married vibes over and over again. But beware, also hides his game very well because in private ... 🥵. Her beautiful hair tied in a ponytail and her voice in playful tones. Would be the type to wear stockings with his uniform and is the same size as his male double. Smells like cake and vanilla, it's both so nice and it also makes you so hungry!

Ruggie: Is quite skinny because as we know Ruggie often endures difficult months. Short and messy hair, has a cheerful voice and an infectious laugh (Quite fond of pretty things in the background, but since she doesn't have much money, she can't really afford it. If she could, she would certainly treat herself to some pretty hair accessories). Perhaps an unacknowledged Tsundere side. Since she cannot feed herself properly for someone her age, she is most certainly smaller than the average for a Beast Woman. Would probably like to have a cuter look, unfortunately she can't afford it as she doesn't want to look "weak".

Jade: Holy shit, this woman is so dangerous and sweetly sadistic, if you ever pique her interest and she likes you on top of that, I'm sorry for you. Her body is certainly muscular and graceful (She also has quite incredible strength). Has long, wavy hair that she wears half-loose and is exactly the same height as her male double. Her voice and at the same time so soft and cold, you don't know if you should feel comfortable or on the contrary, run as far as possible. Obviously loves going for long hikes, (Her legs are so muscular, if she catches you with that, you won't be able to go anywhere). His tone is so teasing, you can't resist him for long.

Jamil: Very tall, even a few inches taller than her male double. Just like Trey, she smells so good, like cinnamon. Has a fairly athletic build, and remained a very, very good dancer. Very skillful, maybe makes her own wrist and ankle bracelets, also wears a lot of jewelry (not as expensive as Kalim's, but still very pretty and it shows her really well, especially the snake designs ), also wears a lot of ear piercings. His hair is very long, silky, and worn the same way as the male Jamil (maybe with extra pearls in his hair). Her voice is deep (sensual) and with a note of irony and sarcasm. Her make up apply lightly but always in such beautiful warm tones (she also highlights her cheekbones), especially with eyeliner to highlight her intense gaze.

Rook: His hair is worn in the same way as the male Rook, also wears a multitude of hats as well as pretty earrings. Likes to tease those around her, smiling and bright. Has a French accent, of course. But remains someone dangerous in the end. Is the same height as her double, is athletic, skillful and has excellent eyesight (Normal for a hunter). See beauty in everything and everyone! Don't you think you're handsome? Rook will give you ten points for why she thinks you are beautiful and why you should stop thinking that way because otherwise she will stalk you until you accept this truth. Her voice is happy and confident, deep and warm. May like to wear accessories like long socks with natural or animal designs. Specialized in throwing knives.

Ortho: So cute! The little sister you will want to protect at the risk of your life! So smart and friendly, curious too. Wears a cute fiery pixie hairstyle and has a cheerful, thin voice. Is so small and skinny.

Lilia: Oh boy ... see Draculaura from Monster Hight? She has the same look. So much into jokes, loves to surprise people to scare them. Her voice contrasts completely with her appearance since it is deep and velvety. Same size as her male double. Even though she looks so young, she still acts like a child mom. (Obviously, is always so bad in the kitchen, she brings out stuff, sometimes you are afraid that it will come to life to devour you). Despite her jokes, she is still very good advice and listens.

The rest of our boys:

Cater: If fashionable, is certainly a great influencer. Cater pays so much attention to everything, especially the little details and accessories that she wear. Makeup always on top and colorful, could become a model if she wanted. Is smaller than her male double. Joyful and higher pitched voice, her hair is a bundle of silky curls always worn in a cute way (Like Ariana Grande). (Has a multitude of fans and contenders) carefree and likes to give cute or silly nicknames to people she loves and appreciates. Would be the type to flirt with his friends for fun. Probably has a passion for nail art and would be so proud to show off her designs on her Magicam account! Would act with the first years like a big sister although she is not always good advice. She is so teasing.

Ace: Short, messy hair! Pretty tomboy style, enjoys teasing others too much for his own good, always smiling like shit and communicative. Is a sporty person, and quite arrogant, maybe also a little Tsundere side. Is a hopeless hideaway romantic. Even though she likes to do her makeup, she doesn't like taking fifteen years to do it and does the minimum required. Of course has a more feminine side when she's out of school, but honestly, feminine clothes are never practical for big movements. Act confidently but not too deep down. Her voice is happy and dynamic. Is one or two centimeters smaller than her male double. Likes to wear necklaces and chokers. Rather skinny but not as much as Ruggie.

Deuce: So sweet and so want to do her best to make her mom proud of her. Wearing long hair tied in a low ponytail, her voice is high-pitched and strong. Is quite tall (even taller than her male double). Read romance books on the sly but can't help herself when someone finds out. Probably already dyed his hair blonde during his delinquent period and dyed it before entering Night Raven College. Likes to wear barrettes in her hair, also does her best with her makeup but was not used to it before (it was mainly Ace who taught her everything she knows). Secretly loves wearing skirts and dresses, she hasn't been able to experience it before because she didn't think it would look pretty on her (But she's actually pretty). Certainly be shy and insecure when she finds new people, afraid of doing things badly. Blushes so easily that it is funny. When his delinquent side resurfaces, his voice becomes more serious, threatening, his posture leaves no room for shyness! She might want to change for the better, but that doesn't mean she's going to let others do if they want to bully her!

Jack: Do you see Jasper in the Steven Universe? You now have Jack as a woman. She is muscular and strong! The part she's most proud of is her muscular back! His silvery hair his savage and remained indomitable (But that gives him a crazy charm). Don't take shit from people and still is a Tsundere. But her wagging tail always betrayed her about her emotions, as well as her ears. Same size as her male double. Secretly loves cute things and certainly has an army of adorable stuffed animals in her room in Savanaclaw. Wears a biker style, and because she lives in a cold region with her family, she doesn't get cold easily, so her muscular arms are uncovered all the time (for your viewing pleasure 😏). Her voice is serious, so serious! But if you're friends, you definitely hear that thoughtful little note in her voice. If his male version is the Best Boy, his female version is the Best Girl! She takes care of those she loves and is always ready to help!

Floyd: Is exactly the same size as his male double. Wear her hair short cut in a boyish style (she doesn't have the time or the energy to dwell on her hair). Her voice has high notes, especially when she finds something or someone cute! Very expressive, has no filter. Like her sister, she is muscular and graceful. Her dress style could be similar to those of men in the 40's (she much prefers masculine clothes because it is more comfortable and she doesn't have to worry about her chest with large shirts. does not have to wear a bra!). Love accessories like earrings or piercings. Has immense strength and doesn't always control it. Dislikes makeup, she doesn't want to bother with it (but finds it charming on others, that's just her personal opinion). If its male version is not to be upset, it also works with its female version! Especially when it is at this time of the month, run away poor fools!

Epel: The same problem as with its male version! Except that instead of being manly, she wants us to find her sexy and not cute! All her life in her hometown has not to stop telling her that she was cute! Really ? Was she nothing else ?! She wants people she finds attractive to find her sexy, not cute! Just because she is petite, because she has big, innocent eyes and a round, youthful face, doesn't mean it's her definition of beauty or femininity! Much like her appearance, her voice is cute, slender. Her hair is long, wavy and held up with a red ribbon in an elegant manner. Compare to her male version, Vil lets her speak with her accent because it is one of her charm assets. Her face is decorated with delicate freckles. Is quite skinny with a tiny bit of shape but not a lot (let's say she has a lot more than Riddle). Epel is a little smaller than the male Epel, but not much.

Silver: She is the equivalent of Disney Princess Aurora. Except that, unlike, even if she falls asleep anywhere, she doesn't need a knight to protect her, she is her own knight! Remain a formidable swordsman! In spite of everything, remains someone calm and taciturn, very easygoing. She is very fond of animals and as they naturally flock to her, she is very happy about this fact. Wear her hair up to the shoulders and tie it in a ponytail for practice. She has a fairly toned body, but not too much. Her voice is soft and measured. She is much smaller than her male double.

Sebek: Acts hard but is so soft in the end. Looks pissed off all the time but that's just her natural expression. Wears her hair like her male version, and is the same size. Her voice carries so far, it's very impressive the first time you hear her! It is a bit sharp, but not in an unpleasant way. Carries so much esteem and respect towards Malleus, she would also like so much to be like her but she would never dare to compare herself to her! Blushes so hard and so quickly if you press the right buttons, it's so funny to see her get annoyed! Her figure is quite toned and sporty.

And finally, My MC /OC /YUU: Just like his female version, he wears round glasses, is always 150cm tall and has long wavy hair. Has fairly broad shoulders and is slightly muscular without really being so. Does everything possible to make girls feel comfortable and safe in his presence! He knows how exhausting the life and daily life of women is because of societal pressures and the male gaze. He knows that because of assholes, women are afraid of men and are afraid to even be in the same room as them, so he will do his best to ensure that she never feels that way around him! And if someone has the audacity to make one of them feel these feelings, oh boy ... that person won't last long! He was raised by his mother alone, and she taught him respect, consent and righteous values. He is an ally, so rest assured 😊😉. His voice is soft and serious (Also watching him get angry and argued in French is quite impressive! The sound of Rs in his mouth sounds even more aggressive).

[cringelordlikesplaz]

Strange to be an Eel

Turning into silly putty wasn't the strangest thing that had happened to him, honestly. It’s everything that happened after that which was weird.

"Please! I'm begging you, Jake bailed last minute and we don't have any replacements! This musical is our last chance. If this flops, we'll never be able to keep this place open!" She cried. 'She' being a short woman with desperate tears in her eyes and too many freckles. 

Eel pulled his wrist out of her surprisingly strong grip. He shook his hand off and observed the woman in front of him. She looked stressed, tired, and a general mess. Her name tag read ‘Penny’.

"Well, Penny." He said curtly, "I got things to do. Better things to do than-"

"But you're the perfect fit! You're the right size, you already know all the lines-"

"Seeing a musical five times doesn't mean I've memorized-"

Penny snapped to attention and pointed her finger into the air dramatically. The imaginary audience located in the storeroom fell silent. 

"And if I'm not here to save the day- Then as God as my witness, I'll be here to save the night!"

"-It's 'then as the gods as my witnesses'." Eel pointed out. Penny smiled smugly and Eel shook himself off.

"That doesn't prove anything. And it doesn't change the fact I can't go onstage!" Eel said.

"You'll be wearing makeup and goggles! A hat too! No one will be able to recognize you in costume!" Penny said, suddenly desperate again.

"No! I won't do it!" Eel said in response to her puppy eyes.

"Please! Please, Bruce Wayne's out there and if this goes well the PR will be fantastic!" She said, tears beginning to fall.

Eel looked up at the cracked ceiling and let out a long, long groan.

"I want 100 bucks." Eel said.

"Deal!" Penny said, the tears instantly evaporating. 

Damn actors.

~~~

So, the musical rendition of the hit show 'The Grey Ghost' went pretty damn well, in Eel's opinion. He was skeptical at first, as anyone should be, but he had to admit it, Penny was right. He was an amazing Grey Ghost. 

It helped that Eel had been a fan of the Grey Ghost since he was a boy, and it also maybe helped that he had snuck into the theater to see the practice runs of the play five times. He had thought he was being sneaky, but apparently theater kids could like, smell intruders. Fresh blood, if you would.

He hadn't known what would happen when he was cornered by a very manic little blond lady, but it ended up surprisingly well. He even got paid. 

After he and the other actors had taken their bows or whatever, Eel snuck back to the storeroom. He pried off the grey suit- it was kinda itchy honestly- and began to dig around for his usual clothes. 

He put his suit on. The nice one, that didn't pinch his shoulders and had all his crap in the pockets. He buttoned up the coat and pulled out his glasses. They were black and pretty slick, if he was honest with himself. Which he was. Occasionally.

The temples were wide and helped hide his eyes from the side. They hid his scar even better. They were sunglasses, unfortunately, not the best eyewear to have in Gotham, but he liked them. And that was enough for now. 

They were also expensive as all hell. Some sort of designer brand. He would wear them till they broke for how much they cost him. 

There was a knock on the door.

"I'm decent," Eel said. 

Penny opened the door and held her clipboard to her chest excitedly. Her eyes sparkled. 

"So." She said.

"So?" He asked.

"So! Y'know how Bruce Wayne was in the crowd tonight?" She asked.

"Yup," He said. 

"He liked it! He liked it so much he wants to fund us!" She said, "And he wants to meet you."

Eel blinked. "He what?" 

"He said your performance was incredible! He wants to meet you!"

"No." 

"No?" She asked, her head cocked, "But you've got so much talent! He could get you a job, y'know." 

"No. Just- no." Eel shook his head. He could just hear the sirens now. "I can't, Penny."

She seemed like she wanted to press him- like she did with getting him into the costume. But something on his face made her reconsider, apparently.

"Alright." She said, sighing, "I'll tell him you're not available."

"Thanks, pal." Eel said.

They stood awkwardly.

"I need to go." He said, pointing behind her to the door.

"I- okay." She said. Penny stepped aside and Eel left the storage room, Penny following behind. She led him to the backdoor.

"Um, thank you...?" She said as he stepped out into the alley.

"It's best if you don't know my name." Eel said.

"Will you be back?" 

"Probably not." Eel said, "What with your success here tonight- I think there's going to be too much foot traffic around for a crook like me to be hidden."

She smiled softly, "You weren't very hidden in the first place."

"I'll have you know I've hidden from cops in more obvious spots."

"I think that says more about the GCPD than it does your skill," Penny said.

Eel huffed, mockingly offended.

"Later, miss." He said, turning to leave.

"Goodbye." She said.

Penny waved to his back and waited for him to slink into the shadows before she shut the door.

~~~

"Eel O'brian." A gruff voice called.

Eel grinned and craned his head around to look at a familiar face.

"Matches! Ol' pal, where've you been? It's been ages." Eel said.

Matches Malone slid into the seat next to him at the bar. The bartender wordlessly handed Matches a drink and Matches wordlessly slid a few bills over the counter.

Eel took a sip of his own drink- a cocktail.

"I've heard there's work around." Matches said, taking his match out of his mouth to take a sip of his drink. Whiskey probably.

"I mean, yeah-" Eel said, rolling the cherry around his glass for the hell of it, "But there's always work around."

"Hmm." 

"Yeah yeah, I know what ya mean." Eel said, nodding. "You want the work that won't have you dressed up as a daisy and punched by a furry. I gotcha."

"Hmm."

"I miss the good 'ol days, Matches. Before all these folks in spandex came along and started going nuts all over town-" Eel paused, taking a sip of his cocktail, "-But I do got to admit it; the spandex is pretty hot."

"I need cash." Matches said, ever eloquent. 

"Cheers to that!" Eel laughed. He downed the rest of his drink, swallowing the cherry. 

"Where's the work?" Matches finally asked, and Eel's grin faltered. Always work and no play with this guy.

But Matches seemed to like him well enough, so Eel wouldn't hold it against him.

"So, new boss in the West part of town looking to hire some folks. I think they're hiding something pretty big, but we won't know that 'till we get there, won't we, Matches?" Eel said.

"Hmm."

"Yeah, me too buddy."

~~~

Things at the new job were getting crazy. Like, really really crazy. Like the type of crazy he spent a great amount of his time trying in vain to avoid. Super crazy.

Pun intended.

It started off fairly normal. By Gotham standards anyway. Looting places. Stealing. Scarin' the living daylights out of folks. Keeping out of the limelight. 

But the boss turned out to be working for an even bigger boss- who had a penchant for monologuing- and Eel couldn't help the sinking feeling he had in his gut.

And then the boss- the small boss and not the bigger, monologuing boss- somehow kidnapped Batgirl of all people and decided to drown her. And he did it in this big glass chamber with a valve on the side. 

He stood in front of it, glaring at each of his men accusingly.

He had each of them turn the valve, adding a few inches of water to the chamber, and taking few inches of air away from Batgirl. He was trying to root out a snitch. Or, as he put it, a bat.

Matches didn't even hesitate. Eel wished he had that guy's confidence.

But Eel? He wasn't a big fan of murder. It made him feel icky. It kept him awake at night. He already had enough insomnia, thank you very much.

And Batgirl- She was just a kid. A baby-faced teenager. Up close, she was no longer a force of nature fighting alongside a cryptid. She was a teenager up to her nose in water, her clothes torn and bloody.

Eel went last.

He put his hands on the valve and-

He couldn't do it.

He wouldn't.

A lot of things happened after that.

The boss (the small one) told the rest to shoot him down, and Eel had a half a second to view his terrible life before Matches tackled him to the floor.

The glass of the chamber broke and the room was suddenly flooded with a lot of water and one very mad vigilante. Then a window got busted in, even more glass flying, and then two Robins showed up- There was the young Robin who was grumpy and the other older Robin that wasn't Robin anymore but Eel couldn't really be bothered to remember his name at the moment.

There was fighting, gunfire, blood, and then there was glass in his hands-

And then Matches had somehow manifested them both outside and set Eel on his feet.

"You-" Eel spluttered, "You saved me!" 

Matches looked at Eel. Eel looked at Matches. The street was quiet. Inside the building, it was not.

"Thank you." Eel said softly.

"...You cost me my payment." Matches said at last.

Eel's face fell.

"I just- She's just a kid, Matches. I ain't a monster." Eel said.

Matches shook his head and walked away, leaving Eel on the sidewalk with glass in his hands.

Guess he was wrong about Matches.

~~~

That day wasn't too bad, though. In the middle of the night he was woken up to a knock at his window. His fourth story window in his crappy apartment.

He opened his window and suddenly a basket was shoved into his arms. He fumbled with it for a second, his hands still raw. There was a blur of movement and Eel was left standing half-naked holding a- a gift basket?

He sorted through it- it had cash and cookies and bandages. It also had a plain white card. He opened it and raised a brow in surprise.

"Thanks for not drowning me!" 

It was signed with a little bat drawn in the corner. 

The cookies were delicious.

~~~

The safe was built into the wall. The safe itself wasn't too big, and the wall was only made of plaster. It would be a pain to lug the safe back to base though. And it would cost precious seconds to hack away at the wall to get the safe out-

There was really only one option. The bomb he had was small and wouldn't do much in terms of excavation- but it would absolutely open up that pesky Wayne-Tech lock.

"Alright guys, we need to get back-" Eel didn't hear anyone. He turned- "Guys?"

"It's been a while, O'brian." Batman said, surrounded by the unconscious bodies of his crime buddies. Well, not really buddies- you get the point.

"Batman! Hello! I don't think we've met," Eel said, swinging on his heel and turning to face his doom.

"No, we haven't. But when I didn't hear word from the police of any of your activity for a few months- well." Batman took a silent step closer. "One tends to worry."

"Oh? Me? Lil 'ol me? You shouldn't have." Eel batted his eyelashes, though the effect was diminished as he was wearing his shades.

"You plan these heists well." Batman said slowly, "You waited until the Riddler attacked to go for this safe. You got past the cameras without setting off the alarm. You tipped off the police of where you'd be- on the other side of town."

Eel tried to reach for the detonator on the bomb. If he could just- "You flatter me, Batman really, but I-"

"We could use a man like that on our side, O'brian." Batman said. "A smart man like you could do some real good in the world."

Eel laughed. That was the most wrong thing he'd ever heard. He laughed but it wasn't funny.

He pressed the button and the bomb started counting down from 10.

"I don't think so, Bats. I'm not the hero type." Eel said, and then tried to make a run for it. Batman caught him by the collar.

"It's not about types. There's good in you."

"I really wish I could stay and chat, but I gotta split." Eel said, slipping his arms out of his coat and breaking into a mad sprint.

The bomb let out a single shrieking beep before it detonated. 

Eel didn't turn back to see what happened to Batman.

~~~

A deal went wrong. Unsurprising. They broke his leg. Unsurprising. He was alive. Surprising! Unfortunately, he was still very much crippled and bleeding out from somewhere. 

He limped along the sidewalk at night, always a dumb thing to do. His vision was either going or the lighting in this city was getting worse by the moment. Given that he lived in Gotham, it was likely both.

He limped into a grassy part of the city- a park of some sort. He'd get caught soon. Or maybe he'd bleed out and die. He couldn't manifest the energy to care either way.

He flopped down onto the grass, for lack of any other bright ideas. He couldn't see the stars through the cloud cover. Tragic. 

"Hey." A commanding voice called. He looked around until he spotted a scantily-clad woman. She was green and wearing leaves and had bright red hair and was looking at him like he was a pile of dead slugs.

Oh. Oh crap. Oh crap that's Poison Ivy.

Eel tried to shrink into the ground.

"Hiiiii Poison Ivy, how's the weather?" He asked. He tried to smile charmingly but it was most likely very strained and bloody.

"Why are you bleeding on my flowers?" She asked, a single brow raised.

"Haa, would you believe that blood makes a great fertilizer?" Eel said.

"It does." She said.

"Uh," Eel had lost too much blood for him to come up with a witty remark.

"Please don't kill me." He said.

"Greater men than you have begged for mercy. What makes you better?" She asked, head cocked.

"I can, uh," Eel panicked, "I can give you my grandma's recipe for caramel coffee." 

Poison Ivy's other eyebrow raised. 

They looked at each other for a moment.

Then, a shrill voice called from across the park.

"Ivy! Come on!! What are you even doing?!" 

Eel was fairly certain he was hallucinating now. Blood loss and all that. Because Harley Quinn, wearing a football jersey and sweatpants, came running up to stand besides Poison Ivy.

"We're going to miss the game," Harley pouted, then took notice of Eel, "Who's that mess?"

"Someone who can make caramel coffee, apparently." Poison Ivy said, bemused.

"I like caramel." Harley said.

Poison Ivy shrugged, "We can keep him if you want."

"I also like coffee..." Harley tapped her chin in consideration, "Yeah we'll take him. Come on, Ivy!"

~~~

That was how he ended up getting high with Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy. His leg was propped up on a table, a bong was being passed around, the apparent football game played on the TV in front of them. They were in a greenhouse and the city’s lights shone through the glass almost magically. This was probably not what someone suffering from blood loss should be doing. Eel almost considered making a break for it. 

But Poison Ivy was the Weed Queen of Gotham, and getting this stuff free? Too good to pass up.

Harely had seemingly forgotten about the promised coffee, but since they hadn’t killed him yet and gave him weed, Eel decided he'd write the recipe down for them before he left.

"I don't get why capes dress the way they do," Harely said, "I mean, rogues have the same problem but like, it's more noticeable with the heroes, y'know?"

"Like, the boob windows?" Ivy asked. Harley nodded enthusiastically. 

"Yeah, yeah! The boob windows." Harely said, "Why do all the guys wear kevlar and body armor and the girls got to show off their tits?"

"Maybe the dudes should show off their tits too." Eel said. 

Poison Ivy laughed and Harely nodded even more enthusiastically.

"Yeah! This guy gets it!" 

"See, if I were to go running around in spandex-" Eel gestured to his very much not spandex coated body, "I'd show off my cleavage all the time." 

"Men don't have cleavage," Ivy pointed out.

"Not with that attitude they don't." Harley said, "Say, Eel, if you ever get tits, come over so we can prove Ivy wrong."

Eel cackled, "Sure thing! And if I ever start wearing spandex as a hobby I'll make sure the V-neck plunges all the way down."

"You'd better!" 

Ivy laughed and Eel was handed the bong again.

~~~

Eel wasn't even doing anything. He was in his apartment, minding his own business. Well actually he was trying to sleep but that wasn't going so well.

Then there was a tapping on his window. Feeling a sudden wash of deja-vu, Eel turned around. There was an otherworldly, haunting green glow coming from his window. 

Pausing, and exercising a healthy amount of caution, walked over to the window.

A UFO hovered outside his window. A tiny one.

Eel rubbed his eyes.

The UFO bonked against the glass, seemingly wanting inside.

"uh," Eel said. Against every ounce of common sense, he opened the window. 

The UFO flew inside his room, casting its light oddly through his home. There was a mechanical whir, and suddenly a robotic arm sprung out from the bottom of the ship.

"Uh," Eel said, regretting everything immediately.

The UFO then grabbed Eel by his good ankle, his other leg still in a cast for a few more weeks. He lost balance and hit his head on the floor. The small ship lifted him off the floor by his ankle, and then dragged him out the window. He tried to claw at the windowsill but the ship was too fast.

"UH,"

He dangled dangerously over what was at least a thirty foot drop. The UFO paid no mind to his panicked flailing, and instead began to go higher.

"OH GOD."

~~~

The small UFO took him to a bigger UFO, of course.

A small hole opened in the underside of the ship, and Eel was brought inside. The inside of an alien spaceship looked nearly identical to its outside, apparently. Weird and green.

The smaller ship finally dropped him off in a large circular room. He was set down gently on his back, but he still hissed in surprise. The metal floor was freezing and he was only in his shorts.

"Uh oh uh oh uh oh..." He muttered.

"Hello, human!" A cheery, buzzing voice greeted. 

Eel looked around frantically and finally spotted a small, glowing blue light.

"Uh, hi?" He said to the light. The blue light bobbed up and down- excitedly?

"Human!" It said, "We are the-"

It said something that sounded eldritch to his human ears.

"-and we saw your performance!"

He blinked.

"...my what."

"On February 7th, approximately 11 months ago, you performed in the musical "The Grey Ghost Strikes Back!"." The light said. Several other colorful lights manifested around him.

"...uh huh."

"If you are wondering why you did not see us, the-" [REDACTED] "-in the crowd on the date of your performance, it is because we were not there."

"Ooohh kayyyy...."

"Batman recorded it and sent us a copy!"

Eel blinked. They were speaking alienese, he was certain of it.

"He also sent along with it 307 other forms of human entertainment as a welcome package to Earth!" It said, "And we must say, we really enjoyed your performance."

A red light, hovering just a little lower than the blue one, perked up.

"We especially enjoyed your performance in the third act, and would like to compliment your singing skills." The red light said.

"Thank you?" Eel said.

"If it is not too much trouble, human, we would like what is most commonly known to you as an 'autograph'." The blue light said.

"...alright." 

~~~

The night started off odd, he'd admit it. But it wasn't bad. He signed some stuff. He didn't know what the things he signed were or what exactly he wrote with, but it hardly mattered. They asked him to sing a song from the musical- he did- and they somehow applauded him.

They gave him alien food, and he'd be damned if he didn't accept free food. Even if it was probably radioactive. It tasted like cotton candy. Again, not bad.

They told him a bit about their situation. Their home- somewhere on a different plane of existence- exploded. They were the last of their kind. Batman approached them, because he could do that apparently, and offered them a place on Earth.

"Our culture is based on entertainment. Each piece of what you call 'media' is like a fine work of art to us." They said. 

"Oh, cool. So do you kidnap actors you like in other stuff?" Eel asked, trying to figure out the best way to consume the slime on a stick he'd been given. He decided there was no proper way to do that so he just decided to slurp it off.

"We would like to meet the actors and actresses in other media, but they usually just scream the whole time they are here. We gain the impression that they do not appreciate our hospitality." They said.

Eel shrugged, "I can't imagine why. You guys are great."

"You have taken this whole experience very well, comparatively."

"I mean- I'm a bit desensitized to weirdness." Eel said.

"Is this experience considered 'weird' to other humans?" They asked.

"Nah." Eel said, waving off their concern, and set his slime stick down, "Hey, I'd like to get home now. This has been fun and all, but it's kinda cold in here."

"Of course, human. We wish you fame and fortune for your future."

"Uh, you too?"

They dropped him off on the roof of his apartment building. The sun was beginning to rise. He made his way down the stairs, nearly naked and his leg still in a cast. He slept okay.

~~~

Eel was known for many things. He knew most, if not all, of those things were bad. Hell, all of the things he was known for would be bad to the common man. But to the common crook? Only most of those things would be considered bad.

Some of the things he was known for made him desirable. 

He was a safecracker, he never got caught, he could make a good plan and stick to it. He was good at his job.

But Eel was not... valuable, per-say. He was a tool in most people's eyes. Something to be discarded when the job was done.

Eel knew this. Made his peace with it. He knew when he took this job that the guys he was working with didn't give two shits about him. But he needed their muscle for the security guards, and they needed his skill to crack the safe. They all needed the cash.

They walked into this big facility during a storm. Mr. Freeze was causing havoc in city hall again. The outer parts of the city didn't get the blizzard- they got the freezing rain.

The security guard appeared- he had a gun and he was willing to use it. If the folks he was working with were smart, which they weren't, they would have ran. Don't shoot back, don't have murder put onto your sentence along with theft and arson and everything else. 

But they were stupid, and they shot blindly, and the guard shot Eel in the shoulder. And the bullet tore through his shoulder and into a container of something-

Another shot rang out, the guard fell.

There was a crack and suddenly Eel was soaked in something- it was bright and hot and it burned like the embers of Hell. He screamed, of course.

The people he was working with, his 'pals', stared at him for just a second.

"Eel-!"

"Eel doesn't have the cash, now run!"

Eel got up, and gave chase. His steps faltered and his vision swam.

He made it outside just in time to see them get into the car and book it.

"Adios, Eel!" 

"You putrid punks!" He yelled, his hand clutching his shoulder. Everything burned. Everything throbbed. His pulse beat in his ears, the rain came down like knives, and the bullet hole poured blood like a faucet. But it was oddly thick- was it? The world kept wanting to wobble and spin.

The- the police. They'd be here soon. Maybe. Eventually. He needed to go.

He walked. 

Down the street, down an alley, then another, then another, until the buildings began to spread out and trees and grass began to coat the land.

The rain was softer here. Warmer too. He climbed a shallow hill. Like climbing a mountain. His heart slammed the inside of his skull like a drum. There was a tree on the hill, its branches bare.

He collapsed beneath it.

He didn't have time to see if he could spot any stars before it all went black.

~~~

Eel's life had always, always been strange.

But it apparently that was just the beginning.

[toby-and-tornado-anon]

Rosies are Red (1/?)

Um...ah, you know what. I’ve had this half-completed story just sitting around for a bit. I might as well post it and see what you guys think. This is set some time before Fastest Red Engine on Sodor.

Vicarstown Station is without a doubt the largest station on the Island of Sodor. Many important trains from across the island as well as the mainland make Vicarstown their final destination, citing its grand station building and its position as the biggest town on Sodor.

Recently, traffic to Vicarstown has become large enough that Sir Topham Hatt has seen fit to expand the station’s goods yard to a size rivaling that of the Knapford Yards. Unfortunately, this increased size has led to some trouble…

One day, about a week after the construction of the goods yard, the Wild Nor’ Wester was thundering down the line, Gordon at its helm. The Gresley Pacific was in a very good mood, having been early to Crovan’s Gate and eager to break his record on the Vicarstown leg of the express’s journey.

“I’ll break it for sure!” he crowed in delight, whistling as he turned the final curve towards the station. “Express, coming through!”

However, as he approached the station, his driver saw danger ahead. “Woah, Gordon!” he called, applying the brakes hard-on. Gordon winced, shutting his eyes as sparks flew from his wheels, the weight of the coaches bashing into his tender as he screeched to a halt just shy of the platform.

Gordon blinked his eyes open, and to his surprise, saw a goods train sitting in his platform, with no engine!

Gordon was very cross indeed. “You silly trucks! What are you doing in my platform?!” he demanded. The trucks said nothing, though, merely laughing at him. 

“So much for your record, old boy. We’ll have to wait until this train gets shunted,” the fireman sighed, gazing out the side of Gordon’s cab. He was very surprised to see that Gordon was not the only one waylaid by a misshunted train.

Henry, a heavy goods train behind him, whistled impatiently, a line of stopping service coaches in front of him. “Would someone please move these?” he snapped. “I need to get this delivered to Tidmouth Harbor, or Arthur will never let me hear the end of it!”

“You’re not the only one stuck, Henry!” James, his face nearly as red as his paint, snarled. He had somehow been trapped, light engine, between two goods trains. “Get me out of here!”

That evening, at Tidmouth Sheds, the big engines were complaining about the conditions at Vicarstown. And they weren’t alone with their sentiment.

“It’s all well and good to expand the station yards, but to leave it in such disarray...it’s disgraceful!” sniffed Gordon.

“Disgusting!” agreed James.

“Despicable,” nodded Henry.

“For once,” Edward sighed, “I’d have to agree with you three on that. I came to Vicarstown to pick up a delivery for Crock’s Scrap Yard, and the entire station was a complete disaster. Whoever the station pilot is, it’s rather clear they’re not doing their job adequately.”

“Ah...who is Vicarstown’s station pilot?” Emily questioned, a puzzled look on her face.

The other engines went silent. Now that the Stirling had mentioned it, not once had they seen the station pilot.

“...Philip still works at Knapford…” 

“Percy is still on the Ffarquhar Branch…”

“Duck is on the Little Western, of course…”

The engines discussed the matter extensively. So extensively, in fact, that they completely missed hearing the footsteps of someone walking closer. Upon hearing the engines’ discussion, he raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat.

The engines trailed off, their attention turning to the new arrival. There, watching them, was Sir Topham Hatt.

“Well then!” he said, his eyebrows so high on his face that they disappeared under his hat, “what’s this I’ve been hearing about Vicarstown?”

“That yard has been a complete mess all day!” Gordon immediately started complaining. “Constant delays, trains being left in the station to cause a mess...and to top it off, not once has any of us seen the station pilot!”

“Oh dear, oh dear, this won’t do at all…” Sir Topham Hatt muttered, removing his hat to massage his head. “I’d rather hoped it wouldn’t turn out like this...that’s why I gave him the chance to be station pilot.”

“If I may ask, sir,” Edward ventured, “but who is the station pilot for Vicarstown?”

Sir Topham Hatt sighed, placing his hat back on his head. “Dennis is supposed to be serving as the station pilot,” he admitted. “I’d hoped that giving him a responsibility like that would allow him to change his ways.”

The engines were speechless. But not for long.

“Dennis?!” James fumed. “That lazy diesel wouldn’t know hard work if it bit him in the exhaust!”

“No wonder that yard was in such a state,” Emily agreed. “It still amazes me how he can be so lazy.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Gordon rumbled, “Dennis is not a proper choice for station pilot for such a respectable institution such as Vicarstown.”

“Hm...you may well be right, Gordon, after all of this confusion and delay,” Sir Topham Hatt muttered, turning to leave. “I shall have to make other arrangements.”

As Sir Topham Hatt headed back to his office to close up for the night, he noticed a strange sight in the yards.

There, parked in a siding, was Rosie. The pink tank engine was looking very glum indeed. 

Concerned, Sir Topham Hatt decided to head on over. “Cheer up, Rosie! What’s the matter?” he asked kindly.

Rosie sighed, looking around the yard. “It’s nothing, sir. It’s just...lately, it seems all I’ve been doing is hanging around the yard and shunting. And I enjoy shunting,” she hastily added, “but ever since Philip arrived, it feels as though everyone is able to manage without me. I don’t feel very useful. I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologize, Rosie. Although, you certainly have a point,” he mused. “The yards here are the neatest they’ve been in years. But you were a driving force behind it, don’t forget. Stanley, Stafford, Philip, Charlie...all of them wouldn’t know what to do if you hadn’t been here to lay the foundation.”

“Thank you, sir,” Rosie smiled. But she was still feeling rather glum.

This gave Sir Topham Hatt an idea. “In fact, I’m sure that the same dedication that you used to put things in order here in Knapford would be very appreciated in Vicarstown!” he declared.

Rosie was surprised. “Vicarstown, sir?”

“That’s right. The other engines have been complaining about the state of the yard there. The engine that I assigned to be station pilot can’t...cope with the job, shall we say,” he delicately said. “So, things will have to change! I’m assigning you as the new head station pilot for Vicarstown! First thing tomorrow, I want you to head down there and put the yard in order. And if you can, talk some sense into Dennis,” he muttered as an aside.

Rosie was delighted. “Oh yes sir! I won’t let you down, sir!”

“There’s a good engine. Right, I’d best let you catch your rest. See you tomorrow, Rosie. I’ll be coming down on Gordon’s evening express to see how things are shaping up.” With that, Sir Topham Hatt headed for his office to pack up.

Rosie was a little nervous about being assigned head pilot of such a prestigious station, but she was determined to do her best and be a really useful engine!

However, she hadn’t reckoned on Dennis…

[mlmvoreconfessionals]

Scooby-doo tw series. Any vore prompts/ideas/scenarios/thoughts/stories please?

It's a good thing I'm not at all writing vore of S.coobert D.oobert Doo and now you must all witness my power. And I would like to mention, after some deliberation with a friend, we've come to the conclusion that S.cooby can be classified as a himbo. And you all know I'm right. Also, I'm very happy to finally bring some much-needed vore to some of the monsters of the series. They deserve it.

The Great Dane let out a great belch into the empty room of the factory. Another mystery had brought the gang to the original S.cooby Snack production factory, where there had been reports of a monster made out of S.cooby Snacks causing disappearances inside. The usual running around and getting frightened had taken place for the cowardly dog, but the moment a bit of that food had touched his tongue mid-scream, a switch had been flipped in his head and he went right to work on snarfing down the entire thing. Unfortunately for the guy wearing the strange costume, he was a part of "the entire thing" and found himself curled up inside of the greedy stomach of a talking dog. Definitely, the kind of thing that would get you to be the laughing stock of the local prison...if not for the fact that very little made it out of that dog's stomach, let alone survived for more than an hour or two. He'd likely be a sloshing mass by the time S.cooby was getting back into the M.ystery Machine, the final disappearance to take place in the factory.

A belch rattled throughout the now empty museum, the Black Knight slowly rubbing along his engorged stomach. Putting on the costume had seemed a bit silly at first, but he certainly felt like he was getting into the role of a local spook now! A guard disappearing once was the kind of thing that could easily get written off, even if the poor guy was really trying to fight for his life in the caustic guts of a "monster". Yeah, the Black Knight knew he couldn't stop at one strange disappearance. He'd have to go for a few more. Maybe the entire unit? That sure sounds nice. All those guards were a bit tubby and thick. And if they're as tasty as this fellow is? He'll definitely be enjoying it. Another belch rattles out of him, a guard hat hitting the ground as he licks his lips. Not such a silly idea anymore after all, if he does say so himself. Maybe after the guards are gone, he can pick off the police officers that'll begin investigating. That'd be nice...

Not a lot of thought really went on in the head of C.harlie the Robot. He wasn't built to be the most intelligent thing in the world, after all. He's just a sideshow attraction for a carnival and not much else. There simply doesn't need to be a lot going on up there. Unfortunately, it's lead to a few...er...accidents. One of the main attractions of C.harlie is that he can eat food just like any normal human and he's able to open his mouth when he senses organic material nearby to eat it. Guests pay to give him popcorn, corndogs, funnel cakes, and all kinds of other things! But sometimes a guest likes to be cheeky or isn't careful enough and gets their hand wedged in there. Charlie is programmed to eat, not to spit up, so once someone has gotten lodged in his mouth, there's no stopping him until they've been completely devoured. And, well, it would be a hassle to have to clean him out every few hours so he's also built to digest food. So...a few park guests have gone missing down the robot's gullet, just another part of the show as he digests a full human for all to see. That's why there's a warning sign next to him. If you don't take it seriously, well, there's only one punishment for breaking that rule.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐒/𝐎

Requested by: @seacottons

❄𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸��𝓰

Hongjoong smiled proudly at his work of art. He carefully picked up the gingerbread house and held it up.

"Look look baby!" He exclaimed, bouncing lightly on his feet as he showed you it.

"Oh my God! It looks amazing!"

The smile on your face that was happy for Hongjoong soon turned to a pout though as you stared down at your own creation. Hongjoong peeked over and noticed why you were sad. Your gingerbread house was falling apart, barely standing up, and the frosting was smeared all over the place, including your face and hair.

"Awww sweetheart come on." Hongjoong cooed as he began to wipe some of the frosting off your face.

"I suck and I hate Christmas." You huffed softly, your arms crossing over your chest.

"Stop you don't mean that." He said cupping your cheeks.

"Tell you what? How about we go back to the store and I buy you that spongebob gingerbread house you wanted and build it for you?"

Your eyes lit up at his comment.

"Really?!" You squealed.

Hongjoong kissed your frosted nose, licking some of it off and then winked at your blushing figure.

"Come on baby. We want to get there before it closes."

❄𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪

"Baby baby look!"

You rolled your eyes as your boyfriend once again got sidetracked from your task and began pulling you to see some of the items on display.

"Seonghwa! We're supposed to be shopping for gifts for the boys." You reminded him.

"I know, I know...but look how cute these are!"

Seonghwa couldn't help himself as he picked up some of the baby mittens and hats. He giggled as he held them out to you.

"Seonghwa? Who are those supposed to fit? Yunho?" You rolled your eyes.

"No silly! But I was thinking....you know.."

Seonghwa wiggled his eyes suggestively at you. When you caught onto his meaning, you smacked his arm and started walking away.

"You're....ugh!

Seonghwa quickly put the stuff down and walked behind you.

"Why are you against this?! I thought you wanted to give me what I wanted for Christmas and I want a positive pregnancy test!".

He cried out then quickly turned cause something caught his eye.

"Look this is perfect for Mingi!"

You sighed as you realized it was gonna be a long day.

❄𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸

You and Yunho were currently putting the finishing touches on the Christmas tree. You felt so proud at the color combination you picked out. You tilted your head when you heard a cluttering sound.

"Oops?" Yunho smiled shyly as he began to pick up some of the glass balls that he had accidentally dropped on the floor.

"Yuyu careful. I don't want you cutting yourself." You said as you helped him pick them up.

"I'll be fine love. They didn't even shatter." He assured you.

After you guys picked up the ornaments and finished putting them up, you both began clapping and jumping up and down.

"It's almost finished."

You picked up the last item, a shiny gold star to put on the top of the tree. You happily walked over to the tree.

"Baby? Need me to do it?" Yunho offered.

"I can do it!"

You reached up but unfortunately couldn't reach all the way to the top. You stood on your tippy toes, but still couldn't place the star on the top. Defeated, you turned with a pout to Yunho. He merely chuckled as he took the star away from you.

"Don't worry love. It's what I'm here for."

He kissed your cheek before proceeding to lift you up on his arm.

"Come on. Let's finish decorating the tree together."

❄𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰

"Yeosang. Can you please take out the cookies from the oven?" You asked as you assembled the frosting and the piping bags.

Making sure to put on oven mittens, Yeosang carefully took out the sugar cookies from the oven and placed the tray on the counter, fanning them out gently.

"Perfect! Now we can start decorating them!" You handed a bag to Yeosang.

Yeosang and you quietly began decorating the cookies, adding different figures and cute designs on them. You felt Yeosang tapping eagerly on your shoulder so you stopped what you were doing to see what he had done.

"Hehet." He chuckled as he showered you a blue cookie decorated with a white Hehetmon.

That wasn't the end, he then held up a cookie that resembled an angry bird.

"It's Seonghwa Hyung!"

You bursted out laughing at how cute your boyfriend was. You were so caught up in your task of decorating the cookies, you almost..... almost didnt notice the hands that swindled one of the cookies.

"Yeosang did you just ate one of the cookies?" You placed your hands on your hips.

Yeosang turned to you with a shocked look on his face.

"Nnno..." He muffled a lie, mouth full of the pastry he stole.

You shook your head and tried to hit him with the nearby whisk, but he quickly evaded you.

"You know I have a sweet tooth!"

❄𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷

San made sure not to hurt himself as he hammered the nails onto the wall. It wasn't easy considering a certain furry feline decided it was a good time to start rubbing her body on his leg.

"Byeol, babygirl. As soon as I'm finished I'll give you cuddles ok?" He smiled down at the cat.

The cat however glared at him. Hissing softly, she left to join you on the couch, where you were busy trying to finish filling the stockings with goodies and candies. Byeol began meowing at you, sprawling her body across your lap.

"Byeol, sweetheart. Soon ok?" You said as you gently put her down, which she did not appreciate.

Soon both you and San were finished.

"Ok. Let's hang them up now."

You two slowly placed two stockings first, testing the waters to make sure they wouldn't fall off or rip. You both stepped back and let it stay for a few seconds before deciding it was ok.

"We did it!" San clapped as he turned back to you and gave you a high five and then pulled you in for a hug.

"All right. Let's finish putting the others-"

You couldn't finish your sentence when you two turned around and saw that the rest of the stockings had been ransacked through, some of them even with a couple of tears. You guys then witnessed a very angry cat perch itself on the top of the couch, daring you to say something.

"Ah come on Byeol! We worked really hard on them!" San complained but was met by a low hiss.

You giggled. "Come on. Let's just drink some hot chocolate and give snuggles to our child before she decides to tear up the Christmas tree."

❄𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲

Mingi hopped from one side of the stove to another, peering down at your task of slowly stirring the boiling pot in front of you. He turned his face, bringing it really close to yours.

"Is it ready yet?"

You sighed as he asked for the 6th time in less than 2 minutes.

"Mingi, I told you the hot chocolate will be ready soon." You repeated to him.

He whined and shook his shoulders slightly. Rolling your eyes, you handed him the spoon.

"Stir this for a bit. I'm gonna run down to the bathroom for a while."

Taking off your apron, you made a quick stop at the restroom. As soon as you came out, you head Mingi yelp from the kitchen. Quickly pulling out the first aid kit, you ran back to see what happened. Mingi's bottom lip quivered as he held out his hand.

"I accidentally burnt myself." He whimpered softly.

You tried to be as careful as possible while you rubbed ointment on the red patch on his skin and finished bandaging it up.

"There. All better?" You asked.

Mingi smiled shyly. "Can you kiss it to make the boo boo feel better?"

You giggled and tenderly kissed his hand. "You know you're such a dork..."

Leaning up, you pecked his lips.

"But you're my dork."

❄𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰

"Wooyoung. Press start now." You urged him.

"No! I'm not starting the movie until the popcorn is ready." He wouldn't budge.

"You won't miss much of it." You shook his arm.

"I am not starting a movie until all the required snacks are in place."

Right at that moment, the microwave beeped and Wooyoung quickly sped over to retrieve the popcorn. As soon as he set it down, he jumped back inside the pillow and blanket fort you two created, effectively tackling you down, making you groan and complain when he began adjusting around.

"Cuddle me! I wanna be the little spoon." He grabbed your arms and wrapped them around him.

You rolled your eyes but nonetheless cuddled up to Wooyoung as you started your Christmas movie marathon. Wooyoung would occasionally make you feed him popcorn or chocolate, or he'd end up throwing some at your face when you thought he'd feed you as well. He'd laugh every time you smacked his hand.

"Look baby! You're on tv!" He pointed to the screen when the Grinch came up.

"You're so annoying!" You exclaimed as you got up and let go of him.

Wooyoung wasn't having it though. He quickly pulled you back down and wrapped his legs around you, making you the little spoon this time.

"Come on baby. You know I'm kidding. I love you so much." He confessed as he attacked your cheek with kisses.

❄𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸

Jongho carefully patted some more snow onto the snowman you were currently building. You had gone inside to get a hat and scarf to wrap around it. When you came back out and notices how focused he was, you decided it'd be fun to mess with him. Picking up some snow, you made it into a tiny ball before throwing it at the back of his head.

"Hey!"

Jongho screeched as he turned around, but was met with another snowball to the face that you threw at him. You giggled at him as he stared at you unamused. He bent down and picked up a large handful of snow and began walking towards you. You let out a squeal and began running as fast as you could, trying to escape your boyfriend's revenge.

"Get back here Y/N!" He shouted from behind, a smile plastered on his face.

Jongho ended up discarding the snowball and instead tackled you down onto the snow before proceeding to roll you guys around on it. He ended up pining you down and both of you were giggling like crazy.

"Oh..." You stopped laughing and looked at the tree above you.

Jongho followed your gaze to see a mistletoe hanging by one of the branches right above you guys. He looked back at you and smiled softly.

"I mean.....it is tradition." He mused as he bent down to tenderly kiss your lips.

Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners

[agent-cupcake]

Garreg Mach Café Episode Two: Lucky Seven (Yuri x Reader)

The first thing you learned about him —one of the very few things you knew about him— was that he liked sugar. A lot. You didn’t work the counter most of the time, you just made the drinks. So, you didn’t know who had ordered the heart attack inducing Ruined Sky Strawberry Frappe, only that someone was looking for a cavity. Vanilla bean coffee, three pumps of vanilla syrup, and strawberry puree with ice blended and topped with whipped cream, hazelnut drizzle, strawberry drizzle, and red sprinkles.

The second thing you learned about him was his name. Or, more accurately, his lack thereof. People regularly used dumb names. It didn’t really bug you, there was no shame in entertaining someone who thought making a barista call out a drink for Phun E. Monki was the peak of modern entertainment. Not so surprisingly, you saw a lot of hipster and nerd traffic through the café so references and jokes weren’t at all unheard of. Really, this one wasn’t even that bad. Comparatively.

“Ruined Sky Strawberry Frappe for Arsène Lupin,” you called, turning around.

“That’s mine,” the waiting customer responded. Shockingly, it was not the top-hat wearing gentleman thief who stood at the counter waiting for his drink. Neither was it the dweeb you expected. Your Arsène Lupin —that is, the man standing on the other side of the glistening lacquered wood countertop— certainly wasn’t normal, but not in the way you had initially assumed.

The third thing you learned about him was that he was disarmingly beautiful. He stood casually; his arms crossed with one of his hands resting lightly on his chin as he watched with a half-smile that you would have sworn had a mischievous glint. Waiting to see if the little joke got a reaction, you figured.

Well, who were you to deny him that? Pushing down the instinctual nerves of talking to someone who belonged more in the technicolor light of your two-past-midnight Instagram escapades rather than the academia chic café, you smiled back. “Here you go, Monsieur Lupin.”

That made his lips twitch in amusement, which shouldn’t have been as gratifying as it was. “Thanks,” Arsène said warmly, wrapping his fingers around the cup. It wasn’t like you were intentionally trying to notice, but his fingers were long and thin, the nails neat and manicured. Pretty hands. Attractive hands. You wondered if they were soft, or as strong as they looked, or what they might feel like-

Nope. No. You needed God.

Or Tinder

“I hope you enjoy,” you said, trying to act like you hadn’t just committed some obscene thought crime. He was supposed to leave after that. People got their drinks and either sat down or left. But he didn’t, meeting your eyes with an even gaze. Their violet coloring was striking, drawn out by the purple eyeshadow smoked out over his pale eyelids. The makeup should have been off-putting, you were less than uninterested in the pierced hoard of e-boys that had saturated the modern alternative dating market, but it wasn’t. Not on him, at least.

“This is a cute place,” Arsène said. But he wasn’t looking around the cafe, he was staring directly at you. Which… you weren’t sure if you were to buy into your ego telling you he was flirting or your paranoia that he was laughing at you. “Is it usually this busy?”

Flirting was better, for your sanity’s sake if nothing else, so you smiled, doing a quick check to make sure you weren’t missing any customers. The guy working the register was looking at his phone under the counter.

“You know, you shouldn’t pick such an obvious pseudonym when you’re canvassing a business,” you said playfully. “Charm will only get you so far.”

That made him laugh, his appraising eyes sparkling with amusement as he stabbed a straw past the whipped cream of his drink. “In my experience, charm will get you anywhere.”

“For you, maybe,” you allowed, feeling a little more emboldened by that response. Lowering your voice slightly, you leaned in as if to conspire. “I guess the real question is what you’re stealing, Monsieur Lupin, hearts or jewels?”

“Jewels, usually,” Arsène told you without missing a beat. “I have no need to steal the hearts.” He shrugged one shoulder carelessly, casually. “I collect enough of them as it is.”

A corny, over-confident line like that should have made you laugh. Unfortunately, you kind of believed it. So you raised a skeptical eyebrow. “That goes against the spirit of being a Phantom Thief, doesn’t it?”

“Why, do you want me to steal your heart?” Arsène asked. He didn’t sound serious, exactly, but neither was the question joking enough to keep a flush from crawling up your cheeks.

“Baristas don’t have hearts,” you told him theatrically, rejecting your silly reaction. “It’s a void of caffeine, student debt, and the disappointment of our parents.”

Arsène was about to respond when you heard the door jingle open. You turned, looking over your shoulder at the customers who had stepped up to the register. “It looks like you’re needed,” he said, following your eye line.

“Yeah,” you said, feeling a strange stab of disappointment. Which was dumb. A little bit of banter with a handsome stranger was nice, but it shouldn’t have been anything else.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back,” Arsène said, smirking in a way that made you think he’d seen your dismayed reaction. “Thanks for the drink.”

He raised the cup like a toast goodbye, and you wished him a good day. It was completely ridiculous, but that quick and strange interaction played on loop in your head for the rest of the day. You went from embarrassed, to amused, to insecure, and back again dozens of times. By the next day, you weren’t sure what to think about it and you hated to think that you were watching for him, but-

Well, you were.

The fourth thing you learned about him was that he had a schedule, a specific time slot that seemed to be allocated to getting an overly sugary drink at your little cafe.

“Noa Fruit and Caramel Macchiato for Mr Pink,” you called, already expecting to see his smile based on the name alone. Not that the preparation did a whole lot in lessening the effects. Today Arsène, or Mr Pink, wore a dark striped button up tucked into black pants. The top buttons were undone, showing off the elegant column of his neck and the framing lines of his collarbones. His skin was so pale, like it had never seen the sun, the color perfectly even and milky.

“That’s mine,” he said. Redundantly. Of course it was his.

To think that you’d done your makeup with more care than usual today was embarrassing, but you were glad for it as you passed the drink to him. “Reservoir Dogs, right?” you asked, forcing yourself to not be flustered.

“Very good,” he said in a voice that was borderline condescending.

“You thought I wouldn’t know? I serve coffee in downtown, knowing Tarantino is practically a job requirement,” you said. Arsène laughed warmly, a sound that was somewhere between amusement and mocking, a sound that invited a mess of fluttery nerves to dance around in your stomach which you covered with a smile. “Mr Pink, though… he’s a long way off from being a gentleman thief.”

“Let’s just say that I’ve fallen from grace,” Arsène said, his smile an odd combination of mirth and mystery. “Lupin is... more of an ideal. Reality is hardly ever so romantic.”

“Cheers to that,” you said wryly.

“Although if I had to emulate one of them, I’d far prefer it to be the gentleman,” he said, dropping a few dollars in your tip jar. Cheeky. “Thanks for the treat.”

“Oh… Yeah,” you said, not even thinking to point out that it was your job. Unless he wasn’t talking about the coffee, which was even more baffling. “Have a nice day.”

After that came a lineup of sugary drink orders under the names of famous thieves. Some references you knew immediately, others you had to google later. And always, always, he just about made your heart stop with that smile.

It was… Maybe a week later? Your Arsène had become something like an expectation. Which was ridiculous. And stupid. But it was true, and he hadn’t been in the day before which affected you far more than you dared admit. Seeing the familiar purple head in the lineup of waiting customers was more relieving than it should have been.  

A Vanilla Wyvern Wing Latte for Danny Ocean, this time. Unfortunately, there was a swath of customer’s orders that needed filling so you couldn’t give it to him personally, sliding it across the counter before rushing back to the blender. That kind of disappointed you, especially since you hadn’t seen him the day before, until you realized that he had taken a seat along the bar, writing something in a notebook and sipping on the creamy white latte.

Waiting for you? Pushing down the spark of excitement you felt about that, you finished up the orders. After that, you took a breath, grabbing a rag to at least seem productive as you inched towards him.

“You’re awfully far from Vegas, Mr Ocean,” you said. Although you called him that, you still thought of him as Arsène Lupin. Your Arsène.

He looked up from his notebook, the end of his pen pushed against his lip in a distracting way. They were so pink. And shapely, his top lip curved by a perfectly symmetrical cupids bow that no amount of lip kits could falsify. And… And you were staring. Again. He obviously noticed, what with the way he grinned when you forced your eyes up to his, but he gracefully didn’t point it out.

“Casinos are nothing more than a party trick,” he told you lightly, flipping his pen through his fingers before letting it drop to the paper. “I’ve got my eye on something far more valuable.” His eyes were burning into yours as he spoke.

That was the fifth thing you learned about him. Arsène could make anything sound like a double entendre. You thought of yourself as being somewhat difficult to ruffle, but even the most innocuous of comments from him could make your cheeks warm. It was the tone of his smooth, lovely voice. Always speaking under his breath, or low enough that you found yourself leaning in.

“Jewels, right?” you asked, playing it cool because you refused to fall prey to what you knew was a purposeful attempt to throw you off balance.  “I heard there was an exhibit coming to town.”

“I’m not really interested in that sort of thing,” Arsène said with a little wave of his elegant hand. “You know the reprehensible means they use to get them, don’t you? So beautiful... but stained with blood. Not too dissimilar from myself, I suppose.”

That momentarily tripped you up. He sounded so genuine, even with the little quip of a joke. Most people couldn’t pull off saying something so nakedly edgy. Maybe it only worked because he was pretty, and you were a fool. So you just smiled. “You really ought to work on this whole subterfuge thing.”

Arsène’s eyes met yours. So intense.  “And how would you recommend I do that?”

“Misdirection,” you told him, refocusing on wiping up the counter to avoid his gaze. “The names are bad enough. You’ve gotta at least pretend to be an upstanding member of society, right?”

“Do you think I’m not?” he asked lightly, his head falling to the side, hand braced against his cheek casually. “And here I thought I was perfectly amicable.”

“Oh,” you said. Did he sound offended? You quickly backtracked. “I didn’t mean to imply that I don’t think you are, it’s just that what you said-”

“I’m kidding,” Arsène said, the slightly concerned expression slipping from his face like an easily discarded mask.

You winced, internally kicking yourself. “Ah, sorry.”

“Don’t worry. That was cute,” Arsène said with that oddly infuriating unreadable grin and shutting his notebook to stand up.

“You’re leaving?” you asked, almost confused that he’d wait only to cut the conversation short.

“Haven’t you realized? I’m a wanted man. As much as I’d love to stay and chat, I’ve got things to do,” he said. “Speaking of that, I hope you didn’t miss me too much yesterday. This project is more difficult than I anticipated.”

“That’s fine, it’s not like I expect you to come by,” you said. You lied.

“No?” Arsène asked. He didn’t believe you, that much was obvious. “Fine, then. I’m not afraid to admit that I missed you. I’ll definitely see you tomorrow, though.”

“Can’t wait,” you said. And, despite the half-sarcastic affect you tried to put on, you meant it.

It only settled after he’d already left what he really had said. Missed you. Not for the first time, you toyed with the idea of giving him your number. Then again, maybe you were misreading the situation. After all, you didn’t even know his name.

Still, true to his word, he came around the same time the next day.

This time, it was a Cinnamon Dust Frappe for Garrett. Arsène, or Garrett, was wearing a sweater today in a nod to the rainy weather. Just like everything else he wore, it was entirely in service of his allure, a dark knit with leather elbow patches. White clips kept a section of his hair out of his face, which was curling at the ends. From the humidity? Or perhaps he usually straightened it?

“It took me a minute,” you admitted as you handed him his drink, “Garrett. That’s Thief, right? I have to be honest; you don’t really strike me as the gamer type.”

“I’m full of surprises,” he responded. After a moment, he added, “I haven’t got much time for games these days, but I have some fond memories from when I was a kid.”

“Probably why you’re a criminal,” you said.

If you weren’t mistaken, his eyes widened for a fraction of a second in something like surprise before that was composed into something else, his laughter driving it away. “You might be on to something with that. Video games do make kids violent, after all.”

“So, tomorrow, will it be Ezio? Or Corvo… He’s got a bit of thievery under his belt.”

Arsène scoffed. “I’d never do the same trick twice.”

That made you smile. “I look forward to it.”

After he left, you realized that you’d learned the sixth thing about him. It was such a small and mundane detail, but there was something charming and oddly intimate to imagine Arsène as a kid playing video games.  

The next day, you were working register while helping to train the newbie in making drinks. It was cold. Slushy snow half-heartedly sprinkled down outside, and the heater was desperately trying, and failing, to keep the cafe warm. The repairman wouldn’t come until the following morning. All in all, your mood was rather poor.

Until the door opened and a familiar face stepped up to the counter.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you up here,” Arsène said.

“Desperate times,” you said with a shrug. He smiled at that, looking up at the menu contemplatively.

“I’ll have…” he said, “a Mockingbird Mocha Hot Chocolate. Medium.”

“And who might you be today?” you asked professionally, the Sharpie point poised over the side of the cardboard hot drinks cup.

“Prometheus,” he said without hesitation.

You blinked, caught off guard for a second as you tried to figure out the reference. That was… clever. The original thief. You couldn’t help but shake your head in amusement as you scribbled that on the side of the cup. The newbie already knew how to make the drink, leaving you with nothing to do. The cafe was quiet today, a rarity. It was the poor weather. People dropped in to get hot drinks, but you didn’t blame them for not sticking around. Arsène was dressed for the cold, wearing a white cape coat that was either incredibly trendy or strangely fringe. Of course, it worked perfectly on him. He looked ready to hop into a new age fashion catalog for outerwear.

“From gentleman thief to a gangster to god… Moving up in the world, are we?” you asked to fill the silence.

“On the contrary,” Arsène told you “There’s no power in being a god nobody believes in.”

“I’d definitely believe in you if you could warm it up in here,” you told him. “I’ve been freezing all day.”

“I’m sure I could think of a few ways to warm you up,” Arsène said, smirking, his eyes dancing with mischievous amusement. “After all, I’m the one who stole the first flame.”

A shaky exhale left your mouth, becoming something like an awkward laugh because he definitely had you going for a second and you knew it was on purpose but still. “That’s what you meant. Right.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What did you think I was talking about?”

“Here you go,” the newbie said with absolutely perfect timing, handing Arsène his drink. At least your blush was keeping you warm.

“Thank you,” Arsène said, meeting her eyes. You were pretty sure you saw her swoon, which made sense. That was the most practical response to him, after all. He looked back to you. “Try to keep warm, I’d hate for you to be calling in sick.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you said. He grinned, wishing the both of you a good day. And you did warm up. By thinking of all the ways he could keep you warm. At this point, even God Himself probably couldn’t do much about your sinful thoughts.

The next day was another cold one, meaning that it was slow. Because of that, your boss had decided that only one person was needed, and you didn’t mind if that was you. Paid hours were always welcome. More than that, and you hated yourself for it, you hoped to see your Arsène. You’d been scrolling on your phone under the register when the door opened. Winter rushed in like it had been chomping at the bit for the chance, called forth with the jingling of bells. Arsène had arrived right on time, wearing that white cloak coat and tall white heeled boots. Snowflakes shined in his hair, quick to melt in the warmth of the repaired heater. By now, you should have been immune. But you weren’t.

“Alone today?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Eerie, isn’t it?” you replied, gesturing to the empty cafe. “Not that I mind, now that the heater is fixed… What will you be having today?”

“A medium Caramel Leclair Latte,” he said.

“And your name…?”

“Yuri,” he said, which you scribbled onto the cardboard.

“All right… Just gimme a second,” you said. The drink was oddly tame for him, and a lot easier to make. You were pretty sure you could whip up a latte in your sleep. He waited without saying anything, but you could feel him watching. The music was too quiet to be a distraction and you were incredibly aware that it was just the two of you which was stupid because the counter practically put you in a different realm of reality, but-

You forced your thoughts to focus on something else, considering the name he’d given you. It was oddly unassuming, at least by the standards of other names he’d given you. You couldn’t recognize it as anything in particular, either. It was Russian. Or Japanese. It being the name of a Russian thief probably made the most sense contextually, but you were drawing a blank as to the specific reference.

“I can’t figure it out,” you admitted when you finished the drink and set it on the counter between you, “who are you impersonating today?”

Arsène blinked, a second of confusion passing before his lips quirked up just a bit. “Myself, actually. I figured it was time to give you my name. You can call me Yuri. Yuri Leclerc, to be precise.”

That was the seventh thing you learned about him. Your stomach clenched. Out of nerves or excitement or happiness, you couldn’t tell. You smiled, feeling something giddy fuzz in your head. “Well... It... It’s good to meet you, Yuri Leclerc.” Yes, you liked that name. It was better than all the others, even better than Arsène.

“The pleasure is all mine,” Yuri replied smoothly.

“So… Is there a reason for this momentous revelation?” you asked.

Some of the mirth drained from his eyes as he slid two of the little coffee straws into the lid. “I’m leaving town.”

The disappointment that struck you was beyond silly, it wasn’t like you had any claim to him. You’d only just learned his name for God’s sake. “Did the police finally catch up with you?” you asked with a smile, trying to be playful.  

“Not yet,” Yuri said. “I prefer to leave before they catch wise.”

“I can never tell if you’re joking or not,” you told him, shaking your head. Sure, he was smiling, but, well, he smiled a lot. It was always unreadable. Amusement at something. Life itself, maybe.

“For your own sake,” Yuri said, his eyes fixing on yours, “you should always assume I am.”

Because that really cleared it up. You decided not to worry about it too much. “But you are leaving, that’s not pretend?”

“Yeah.”

Your heart sank all over again. Stupid, stupid. At least you finally knew his name.

That made for seven things you knew about him. That was enough, wasn’t it? Lucky sevens and all that? Without thinking too hard about it, you grabbed one of the embossed café cards and a pen, scribbling your name and phone number on the back. “If you’re ever back in town or whatever, this is me,” you told him, handing it over. “Or I dunno, I get vacation time. Maybe it’d be fun to take a trip to Almyra or Albinea or wherever gentleman thieves go until the heat dies down.”

Yuri looked at the card for a long moment before tucking it into his wallet, smiling. You felt like you could read this smile, it was warm and friendly. More real than his others, the emotion catching in his eyes, too. “I wonder, do you mean that?”

“Do you want me to?”

“I might.”

“Then I do,” you said with a shrug, like it was easy as that and unsure exactly how much of what you said was strictly playful. It didn’t really matter because it made Yuri smile all over again and the look was fond enough to make your heart seize.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. “Until then, do you by any chance watch the news?”

“The news?” you asked, confused by the shift in topic. “Not if I can help it.”

“Well, you should, at least for a few days.”

“Am I gonna turn it on and see your mugshot slapped all over some headline about a bank robbery or something?” you asked, mostly joking. Mostly.

“What would have ever given you the impression that I’d do something like that?” he asked, feigning a tone of offense.

“Steal something?” you asked.

“Get caught,” he corrected.

You laughed, thinking of something clever to respond with. Unfortunately, the door opened to admit a trio of bundled up students, killing the moment before you spoke.

“That’s my cue,” Yuri said, picking up his coffee. “Don’t miss me too much until we meet again, yeah?”

“Only as long as you promise not to forget me,” you told him.

“It’s a deal, then.”

“Goodbye, Yuri.”

“Goodbye,” he echoed, his eyes meeting yours and voice gentle. Intimate, almost. Then he was gone, a flash of violet and white disappearing into the winter cold.

It was silly, but you kept an eye on the news like he told you, curious to know if anything would come of it or if you’d just fallen for a cute guy’s ruse. But, no, something did happen. A huge theft. The jewel exhibit that had been about to roll out downtown had been robbed. Such a feat was meant to be impossible, there was seemingly no way it could have been done. But it had and there were no suspects, no public leads. And, not surprisingly, no mugshots.

[tosikoarts]

SFW Alphabet | Nikaidou Kouhei

I’m so sorry you had to wait for so long, boo, but if you see it I hope you’ll like it! Absolutely agreed on that Nikaidou deserves much love too! Please enjoy ♡  You can check tosikowrites tag for more.  Warning: there’s a lot under the cut.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Before the unfortunate incident with Ogata and the bear happened, Nikaidou was such a braggart both about himself and his amazing s/o. They are the best around. He is one lucky guy to have them as a partner.

His main love language was going overboard with praise and physical touch. Not a day went by without Nikaidou paying at least one sweet compliment to the subject of his adoration. In addition, his face lighted up when they praised him for anything, be it his soldier's courage or deep dark eyes. Sometimes their dialogue turned into a verbal duel over who will overcompliment whom and it could last for half of the hour until one of them just started spilling the dumbest figures of speech imaginable.

But after the incident, things changed. Now he is all distant and quiet and then in a blink of an eye manic one running around in a stupefying delirium. When the painful realization of the horrors he and his poor brother endured becomes too clear, too close, Nikaidou’s whole world shrinks to the neck of a morphine bottle.

Physical contact? Well... After another maim, it is better to refrain from touching his bare skin altogether. But when Nikaido calms down (with the help of morphine or on his own), you can try to hug him and pat him on the head. Nikaidou himself refrains from initiating anything physical since the absence of his hand leaves him feeling less of a man and makes full-fledged embrace impossible. It truly saddens him.

In general, without his wonderhat and prostheses, Nikaidou feels extremely vulnerable and any touch of the skin near the supposed location of the ear, a stump of an arm or leg burns him like a red-hot iron. It is enormously aching, but for their sake, he can ignore it for a while. Their care is a medicine that is always in abundance but he is not the most compliant patient.

Once in a blue moon, he decides to give them a gift. The last one was made by Edogai. His fancy gloves of dubious origin have no frills, but are very pleasant to the touch, solid and hard. He has a hat, they have gloves, they match perfectly!

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Quite literally friendship-emotional-rollercoaster. Becoming friends with Nikaidou is easy but maintaining this friendship requires effort. It most likely originated in cold soldiers' barracks from occasional small talk about the harshness of military life. As expected, Kouhei’s friend is Yuhei’s friend too, - find trouble, make it double, - making them a famous trio of rascals that brings nothing but distress to other soldiers.

Prior to the loss of the ear, scalp, arms, legs, brother, a good chunk of sanity Nikaidou would like to hang out almost every day, drinking, visiting geishas, sitting on the war department porch, and enjoying heated debate about the future attack. Picking on others is also one of their favorite activities. A little bit of gossiping? Yes, please. Do I need to mention they usually get to serve detention together as well.

After numerous injuries, he gets an unpleasant pulling sensation in the abdomen when the thought of losing them pops In his head. Nikaidou can afford one more limb being cut off thanks to confidence in Arisaka’s natural ingenuity but losing them? Not like they can be replaced by anyone. Moreover, they are dear to his heart because they are a living reminder of the deceased brother.

Lets them talk into the ear and translates whatever comes from it as a form of… conversation. Nikaidou looks like he is about to throw a tantrum when he once again has to work with Usami or Kikita instead of his dear friend. They are also the one Tsukishima can turn to when Lieutenant Tsurumi isn’t around and Nikaidou refuses to give up a bottle of morphine.

Friendship with him is like talking to a different person every time. He is an irrepressible optimist, a child in a crippled body, that shares frightening thoughts about capturing the Immortal Sugimoto. He is also an anxious tangle of nerves hiding from the daylight like it will burn him alive. He is also a serious veteran that will shot the enemy on the spot if they get too close to him or them.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Pick a wrong time and you’ll get to cuddle a wood log instead of a breathing human being. It is a matter of luck and good timing instead of a cute date idea with a loved one. Nikaidou, if in a playful mood, would tease his s/o pretending he has no idea what they want from him. Maybe, they want to shake his hand? Real one or a wood one? As soon as they make a move, he will crawl away with a wide snide smile on his pale face. Eventually, Nikaidou will surrender to their mercy and tight overwhelming embrace but before that happens, he will have some fun playing naïve dummy. Any other time when Nikaidou is obsessing over random idee fixe he will ignore any attempts to cuddle him and even may jump away from them like from the flame. His perception of the touch varies depending on the mood it seems.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

To keep it short, no. Nothing and no one can convince Nikaidou that he has even the slightest chance of becoming a family man. The very thought of something like this makes him burst into hysterical laughter. He is not suitable for this, it is not worth trying so broken man Nikaidou has already joined Ogata’s little I’d Rather Kick A Bucket Than Settle Down club. Mediocre in both cleaning and cooking, doesn’t need constant persuasion to do either.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Endured torment reduced the potential emotional pain to almost non-existing so it won't be difficult for Nikaidou to just leave, to cut them off for their own good. The assumption that they need to end the relationship indicates a major shifting in Nikaidou’s life (maybe, he already knows that his life will end this evening) but at this point, the break-up doesn’t seem like a significant event anymore. Heavily sedated he mutters something unintelligible and then with Arisaka’s bayonet precision cuts the rubbish and announces that they are no longer a couple, they won’t see each other, they should not look for each other under any circumstances, and walks away. No hesitation, no doubts, only humility and disconnection.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Would love to get married someday, spend the rest of his life with a loved one far away from the horrors of war and the gold hunt. However, its possibility seems so elusive and unattainable that Nikaidou decided to put this thought on the back-burner. Now his mind is preoccupied with the desire to slit Sugimoto the Immortal open so even if there is a loved one by his side Nikaidou is highly unlikely to propose. Any hints and mentions of the wedding fly into one ear and fly out of the other.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Nikaidou began to appreciate moments of vulnerability and gentleness after life dumped the pile of shit on him. The tides of tenderness are always unexpected but most often they happen in the middle of the night when he jumps up drenched in a cold sweat from a nightmare. That’s when he snuggles closer to them like a child scared by dreadful thunderclaps and branched lightning. There are not so many things he needs to be happy: a gentle kiss on the top of the head would do just fine. Nikaidou also shows his soft side when the silly childish nature overcomes the bereaved byproduct of the war he has become. Then life seems a little more fun for him, and even more pleasant with their fingers squeezed in his hand. Otherwise, he is completely closed off both physically and emotionally and if confronted can’t even figure out what a person wants from him.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Each of their meetings awakens an irresistible desire in Nikaidou to embrace them in his arms and spin them around to the sound of their ringing laughter. However, as soon as he leans forward, slightly bends the knees so they can jump up for a hug, invisible threads pull him back. You can pinpoint an exact moment when it hits him that Nikaidou awkwardly straightens up and looks bewildered for where to put his hands.  In addition, he feels guilty either for the fact that he cannot give what they are asking for or for that he is so self-critical. If they still decide to take the initiative and hug him Nikaidou will not protest. So to say he never hugs them first but will return a hug half of the time.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

It doesn’t take him long to confess, I’d say, time ranges from three to six months. Since Nikaidou quickly becomes comfortable with patient people who return his love, he will not miss the moment to mention how he feels. Each of his declarations of love is unique. Sometimes Nikaidou grabs them by the hand and runs away into the sunset to recite a verse in a secluded corner. Sometimes he spins around with puppy delight and chatters nonsense, mixing it with I love you. I really do. Did I tell you that I love you? Wait, did I? It’s impossible to get a serious confession from him even when Nikaidou gives the impression of a collected person. Absolutely ecstatic when his s/o whispers sweet nonsense and words of love into his ear. You can see it by the changes on his hat.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Nikaidou is one of those people who can go batshit crazy in the blink of an eye because of one wrong word. Even silence in combination with an appraising gaze flares him up like a red rag does so on a bull and there is no going back from this point. He is laconic. No empty threats, no long prelude. Once Nikaidou draws out a knife it’s between his rival and God. This man doesn’t mind getting messy since every outrageous deed of his will be blamed either on painkillers or someone else. Tsurumi probably won’t want him to end up behind bars or on the scaffold.

Won’t ever accuse his s/o of being unfaithful and will turn blind eye to red flags because… Perhaps he is simply not ready to lose another loved one. Without realizing it, Nikaidou ignores veiled disparaging phrases and undisguised interest in someone else for the sake of peace of mind.

That doesn’t mean he won’t kick man’s ass to prevent subsequent misunderstandings.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Messy, greedy, and ingratiating. He was pretty popular among girls way back in time so you can call him an experienced one and it shows. When Nikaidou is struck by unexpected amorousness in public, he will occasionally plant a kiss on his s/o’s cheek or shoulder. No, social unacceptability does not matter at all in a face of his feelings. In private he is just uncontrollable: Nikaidou goes from kisses to bites back to nibbling exploring them from head to toes. Prefers to kiss his s/o behind the ears, on clavicles, grooves between the ribs, etc. Any place where there is almost nothing between the bone and the covering skin makes his neurons fire additional dopamine. At the same time, he can be wayward about being kissed so the safest options are kisses on the cheek or nose.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

I have reasonable doubts that any mother would want their kids to hand out around such a seasoned soldier as Nikaidou is but if it ever happened, they would have a fun time together. He turns into an absolute sweetheart when a little child grabs him by the hand and drag him along to show some sloppy hand-made craft. Even if Nikaidou tried to be harsh and unapproachable, his mask would fly off as soon as a high-pitched voice asked to play tag. Nevertheless, he prefers to stay away from kids to avoid scaring them with whatever frightening that could break through in his behavior. No need to give little one a recurring nightmare about limbs occasionally falling off to rumbling mirthless laughter. Never thought about having kids of his own but would definitely ponder if his s/o brought up this question. So, maybe, they and one or two cute little girls could make a perfect family?

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

They are erratic. To begin with, Nikaidou rarely spends nights with his loved one so catching him in the early hours is a tall tale. Much more often he visits them at lunchtime or even later in the afternoon having already fulfilled the plan to vex the top of the division. His mood has already dropped from a mania mark to ecstasy or normal level of excited agility making Nikaidou a skilled handyman, a voluble interlocutor, and an ardent lover three in one. While there is a free minute, he wants to mend creaking boards in the hallway right after describing the latest adventures in the smallest detail. May kiss them now and there between looking for the right tools and starring outside for a few sec. Overall Nikaidou endeavors to get the best of hours spent together.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Just like with mornings, staying over in his loved one’s place is a gemlike rarity. By the end of the day Nikaidou still in full swing and keeps the same attitude as earlier. When his battery finally dies, he turns into sluggish sessile mollusca Nikaidou homebodius that refuses to leave the secure shellhouse even if they beg him tearfully. Since outdoor activities are no longer an option, his s/o can try reading out loud, playing different board games, or chatting. Sleep quickly overpowers Nikaidou and he drags his loved one to bed or, if they don’t really want to sleep, tricks them into sitting next to him while he is peacefully dozing off.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Before the accident, he doesn’t feel the need to talk through every little event that happened to him during the conscious years of his life. If they ask specific questions, Nikaidou will still describe the past in general. The childhood did not differ from theirs, filled with small problems and big discoveries (as for a child). Teenage years? Well, nothing special, been there, done this… Neither he asks too much about his partner's past.

After all of the shit he endured, suspicion forces Nikaidou to always be alert and keep the banalest things to himself. You have to be a trusted person with a big T for him to open up at his own will.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

In a relatively safe environment and next to a loved one Nikaidou lowers his guard and allows himself to be amiable despite all irritants. He is too tired to worry, too tired to resort to passive aggression leave alone yell at them or show his anger in any other way so expect small sighs as a reaction to most stupid mistakes. Sometimes he just bursts out laughing instead of commenting on another misunderstanding. They may raise their voice in exasperation and Nikaidou would rather meekly look down than do the same in response. In a relationship, making him angry is not an easy task.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Nikaidou has a very selective memory which requires a strong emotional outburst to remember a thing. No matter how important it is in the eyes of his loved one or even in his own without proper reinforcement he won’t memorize it. For example, hypothetically and forgetting how he feels about the idea of family and marriage, on his wedding day he is overflowing with real solid happiness so naturally, this significant date will be engraved in his memory for life. Yet an important statement thrown in the boring conversation is unlikely to catch his attention. He pays little attention to anniversaries, remembers their birthday 5 times out of 10, and honestly is ok if they are just as thoughtful.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The first moment of non-sexual intimacy like bathing together. It left Nikaidou speechless in unsuspected awkwardness of being perceived as he is, without the chance to hide or leave. For the first time in a while, he finds himself wondering what another person thinks of him, what sees in from of them, what feels toward him. Thanks to their love Nikaidou finds himself comfortable in his skin and a little more grounded. In a good way.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Congratulations on acquiring the iron man of the century with a wide range of body modifications to make this life safer for you and your loved ones. He won’t think twice to use Arisaka’s creations, both mechanisms hidden in the limbs and simply rifles created by his design, to disintegrate the slightest threat to his dearest. Not everybody around is seen as an enemy even though Nikaidou is terrified of losing them especially taking into account the unfolding carnage. Won’t ever ask them to protect him, won’t let them do it under any circumstances and if they show willfulness, he will surely scold them after a scrape.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Thinking ahead is the fate of weaklings. He has thought out one or two dates before realizing how tedious they appear so after that Nikaidou decided to invest only in the form of spur-of-the-moment ideas. Remembers about the anniversary if his loved one hints at it coming but diligently picks up a classic gift for them under the supervision of Tsukishima or Tsurumi himself. Likes to do chores? Hell yeah. When in a good mood Nikaidou can replace a whole group of handymen.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

Not particularly that ugly? This is a problem that seeps into everyday life slowly and imperceptibly but sooner or later his small misdemeanors in everyday social interactions start to show. He misses one social cue, makes the situation kind of uncomfortable but doesn’t notice it until someone cautiously points it out. He tends to interrupt mid-sentence, often gets lost in thoughts and it puzzles him if a person finds it rude. Nikaidou navigates in society more or less successfully but can inadvertently bring a little awkwardness to the group.

Well, he is prone to all sorts of addiction. Not only painkillers. Any stupefying substance is at risk of transitioning from I’ll try it once just to know what’s like to I’ll go commit multiple atrocities if I don’t find a bottle or two.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

You probably don't expect to hear it, but outside the usual rush, Nikaidou prefers to keep himself neat and clean despite his style being on the weirder end of the style. He takes good care of his wooden limbs and repairs minor injuries himself. If the damage is done is beyond the limits of his capabilities, Nikaidou has no problem with asking Arisaka for a replacement. Definitely gets attached to clothes from his meager wardrobe easily.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

One of those people who won’t have energy left to go on without them. It’s misery. The devastation. The finish line right before the steep cliff that you don't have a spare second to stop from flying out into the abyss. Thirst for revenge helped him get back on his feet after losing his twin brother, who knows if it works twice. Overpowering sorrow sends Nikaidou into a frenzied episode of weeping and sobbing, he screams and wails like a wounded animal. If their killer is still around, he’ll try to cut them open in a fit of blind rage.

May fall in short psychosis and spend days sitting by their lifeless body, caressing heavy cold hands and peering in their lifeless eyes. Irreversibility of what is done hits him hard leading to gradual burnout.

And if they decide to leave him Nikaidou will hold a grudge. Everything is far from being as bad as in the previous scenario though, he just wants some space and everybody to shut the hell up as he stabs random objects. Secretly hopes for them to change their mind and come back. Somehow feels guilty about not being good enough.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

After 15 minutes of thinking, I came to the conclusion that I have none. Sorry!

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

It goes without saying changing Nikaidou is a waste of time like he is far from being a malleable clay and even further from mulling about adapt to someone's tastes. The thought is so bizarre that it fails to reach his subcortical structures and even if it did Nikaidou would rather flip a table and jump out of the window than agree to that idea.

The cold aloof type doesn’t get a pass either since without some effort on the part of the other person, they won’t pass the greeting milestone. Good luck in staring from afar as he evanesces with someone else's riffle running away from jaded Tsukishima.

People accustomed to planning every second of their lives with the scrupulousness of a busy businessman will have a hard time dealing with spontaneous shifts in Nikaidou’s mood and schedule. Half of the time he has a problem drawing a clock if you know what I mean.

Sugimoto’s relatives lmao, Nikaidou would definitely doesn’t like that in a partner.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

Turns into an unmovable stone by ten and passes out with clenching on their hand using it as a pledge of good sleep. If he did not manage to fall asleep, it means that Nikaidou could not spend all his energy during the day and will have to do this in the middle of the night. Don’t be surprised if you wake up to a newly planted garden or Nikaidou stuck in the roof. No, I don’t know how.

Dreams mostly about his brother. Surprisingly, nightmares rarely bother him and Youhei appears in bright scenes, basically, in an alternative universe where they never have joined the army and stayed forever in the fondest hometown. After such dreams, Nikaidou wakes up with an unpleasant feeling of a lump in his throat but at the same time, even such an illusory meeting with his brother gives him the strength to keep going.

Indecisive whether he prefers to sleep with prostheses on or not. Prostheses on and Nikaidou is ready to protect and attack at any time but he would not want to make them uncomfortable

[commentaryvorg]

Digimon Data Squad Dub Comparison Episode 8 - The Singer’s Secret

This is a companion to my commentary on the original Japanese Digimon Savers! Reading my commentary on the original version of this episode (which you can find here) is recommended before reading this dub comparison. 

Original name ~ Dubbed name

Masaru Daimon ~ Marcus Damon

Yoshino Fujieda ~ Yoshino “Yoshi” Fujieda

Tohma H. Norstein ~ Thomas H. Norstein

Chika Daimon ~ Kristy Damon

Captain Rentarou Satsuma ~ Commander Richard Sampson

Hitoshi “Neon” Hanamura ~ Neon

[Since several characters share the same name between the original and the dub, quotes from the dub will always be in italics, while quotes from the original will not, in order to distinguish them.]

Since the dub constantly varies which character reads out the title card for each episode, I have to side-eye the fact that it’s Marcus and not Yoshi reading out the title card for Yoshi’s episode.

Marcus: “And now it’s eatin’ time!”

I am amused by the variation on Marcus’s “it’s fightin’ time” catchphrase. Gotta find something to replace the very-Japanese itadakimasu, and this sounds less awkward than a lot of things would in a very dorkily Marcus way.

Reporter:  “We won’t name names, but only because we haven’t discovered who she is… *yet*.”

The dub appears to be leaning into the seediness of this whole gossip thing even more than the original, which I guess is fair, since it was already pretty seedy to begin with.

Megumi:  “What’s the meaning of this?”

Miki:  “How did you, the meekest of us all among DATS members…”

Megumi:  “…Manage to snag Hanamura Neon?”

~~~~~

Megumi: “You’re dating Neon?!”

Miki: “That ring a bell, Miss Keep-Secrets-From-Her-Friends?”

Megumi:  “We read all about it in the newspaper!”

I actually somewhat prefer Megumi and Miki’s angle in the dub. Instead of being jealous and putting her down as if she doesn’t deserve to date a celebrity because she’s too “meek” or whatever, they only appear to be upset that she didn’t tell them this because they consider themselves someone she’d share this sort of thing with. (Whether they actually are that is another matter; Yoshi never seems especially close with these two. But at least that is a less tiresomely misogynistic thing for them to be being unreasonable about.)

Megumi:  “We’ve been getting phone calls one after another since morning!”

Miki:  “We’re also getting loads of hate mail from Neon’s fans!”

Megumi:  “They’re demanding to know who Fujieda Yoshino thinks she is!”

~~~~~

Megumi: “We’ve been getting phone calls all morning long asking for Yoshi to give interviews!”

Miki:  “Not to mention the mail from Neon’s fans. My papercuts have papercuts!”

Megumi: “Everyone wants to know who ‘Yoshi’ is!”

Neon’s other fans are also apparently being a little more reasonable in the dub. Rather than being jealous and hateful (“who she thinks she is” very much carries connotations of them acting like she’s too ordinary to deserve to date a celebrity), they instead seem to be suddenly treating Yoshi like a celebrity as well. Even though jealousy and hate is definitely the way a fanbase would be likely to act to something like this in real life, I do not mind at all that the dub is toning this part down.

Yoshi: “…and I wore a hat. That’s a foolproof disguise!”

Apparently Yoshi subscribes to superhero universe logic if she believed that that was ever going to work. She had a hat and sunglasses; totally couldn’t have possibly been recognised.

Thomas then pulls up the photo that was taken of Yoshi after she took her hat and sunglasses off, amusingly implying that that’s the only reason she got busted and she totally would have been fine otherwise.

Thomas: “Your name, phone number, even your favourite music… Hmm, showtunes.”

Based on his tone, Thomas appears to be judging Yoshi for her taste in music, which doesn’t really seem like the kind of thing he would do. The dub just threw in that quick gag without thinking about if it fit the character.

Also, if, according to the dub, the information published about her included her phone number, why isn’t Yoshi herself the one getting all the phone calls and not her workplace? The dub does not mention her workplace being one of the details that was made public about her, so why Miki and Megumi have been swamped with letters and phone calls about this is a mystery.

Agumon:  “What’s an undercover investigation?”

~~~~~

Agumon: “Under what cover?”

Oh hey, dub, remember how Agumon shouldn’t know a whole bunch of human terms because he only recently came into the human world? And hey, look, you can make jokes with that, too, rather than making jokes with things that it doesn’t make any sense for Agumon to be saying!

Tohma:  “So if we carelessly break in, we’ll be kicked out before we know it.”

~~~~~

Thomas:  “So if we rush in, the Digimon will know that we’re after him.”

Gaomon: “And he’ll run.”

The dub actually gives a much better excuse for why the building’s hi-tech security system means they can’t just rush in: not because the security guards will kick them out, since they should be able to pull DATS authority on that, but rather because it’ll alert Keramon than they’re coming. Good job, dub, fixing a plot hole!

Unfortunately, despite the dub’s attempts to remove Miki and Megumi’s jealousy of Yoshi and turn it into them just having wanted the gossip, which I appreciated, the dub can’t really change the part where they jealously complain that they weren’t the ones to get to (fake) date Neon. Their animations for that are too extreme to really be interpreted as anything else.

Yoshino:  “Neon is my childhood friend.”

~~~~~

Yoshi:  “I knew Neon when we were children.”

Yoshi doesn’t mention the fact that he was specifically her friend. Their conversation later in the episode is still going to clearly establish that they were indeed on friendly terms back then, but I feel it’s a bit of a shame that their friendship isn’t something Yoshi outright mentions here. Her friendship with him is obviously quite important to her and to how she approaches investigating him; it makes sense that she’d want to bring it up.

Yoshino:  “He’s completely different than before. He was shorter than me, and he was fat. When he debuted, I didn’t recognise him at all.”

~~~~~

Yoshi: “He’s so different than he used to be. He was just a shy little boy back then. I would never have guessed that he’d become such a success story.”

I am very disappointed at the dub leaving out the part where he used to be fat, because that’s an important detail that makes it significantly easier to imagine that he was probably bullied back then. Yoshi doesn’t mention that she literally didn’t even recognise him as a singer, either. The dub’s take on this is focused more on his personality and less on his image.

Under normal circumstances, that shift in focus might be a good thing, but in this particular context, image is an even more relevant thing in the celebrity world than personality is. And image also tends to be more important in terms of how likely a kid is to be bullied. This is watering down the interesting parts of Neon’s character and it makes me sad.

Yoshino:  “Hitoshi!”

~~~~~

Yoshi: “Hi, Neon!”

Another very significant change: apparently, Neon just is his real name in the dub? Or, if it’s a stage name, Yoshi doesn’t care and is happy to call him by that rather than by whatever name she knew him by as a kid. Neon having an ordinary real name and Yoshino insisting on using it (and him not liking her doing so in public) was a neat aspect of the original that helped showcase the vast contrast between who he used to be and who he is today – again, kind of the whole point of Neon’s character – so I’m very sad that the dub loses this, too.

(The dub also hasn’t mentioned his surname and just calls him “Neon” at all times. Which really doesn’t actually matter at all, because the connotations of the surname Hanamura that I talked about in the original post would obviously be lost on a Western audience (unless they changed his surname to a Western one with similar connotations – now there’d be an actual reason to give a Japanese character a Western name, for once!). But I am disappointed about it for a very silly reason anyway, because Neon’s English voice actor happens to also voice one of those other Hanamuras that I mentioned in that post (who incidentally happens to be one of my favourite fictional characters, which is probably the only reason I care about this), and it would have been a hilarious coincidence for him to have voiced two Hanamuras. He still sort of did anyway, but only sort of.)

Neon:  “I told you not to call me by my real name.”

Yoshino:  “What does it matter?”

Neon:  “You haven’t changed at all.”

~~~~~

Neon: “Hey, wanna blow off work and come to the beach with me?”

Yoshi: “Sorry, I can’t. Too much to do.”

Neon:  “Oh well, I guess it’s your loss then.”

Because Neon doesn’t have an ordinary real name in the dub, we also lose the exchange that told us some interesting things about Yoshino and Neon’s characters and how they see each other and their relationship, replaced with completely meaningless fluff. (Inviting her to blow off work and come to the beach with him is a significantly more usually-romantically-coded thing than anything else they actually do in the episode.)

Masaru:  “Is this really a mission?”

~~~~~

Marcus: “You do know this guy’s a criminal.”

Miki & Megumi: “Alleged criminal!”

Marcus: “Gimme a break!”

Instead of being exasperated by relationship nonsense, Marcus is instead really sure already that Neon’s a criminal and writing him off as not worthy of respect as a result. Miki and Megumi are being totally reasonable to point out that it’s only allegedly for now.

Masaru:  “But Yoshino…”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Yoshi, he’s hiding a Digimon.”

Marcus is way more sure and making a much bigger point of this than Masaru.

(Masaru may have already basically decided as well that Neon’s probably the culprit, but even if he had, I don’t think he’d really have cared. He’s not here for the crime-solving and human-focused side of things – so long as he gets to fight that Digimon, that’s all that matters to him!)

Yoshi and Neon have basically the same conversation about carrots as in the original, but it doesn’t have quite the same meaning without the detail that Neon used to be fat, implying that Yoshino was probably encouraging him to eat them to try and help him lose weight.

Yoshino:  “I was exercising parental love because I wanted you to eat healthy and get bigger.”

~~~~~

Yoshi: “Hey, I was just making sure you grew up big and strong by eating your veggies!”

The one real difference here is the lack of her mentioning parental love, which is a shame because I liked it emphasising the idea of Yoshino the mom friend. Perhaps they removed that because they’re trying to make this relationship seem more actually romantic. I also liked the idea that it really wasn’t that romantic in the original, at least on Yoshino’s end.

Yoshino:  “I remember you were never able to do anything on your own…”

Neon:  “Thanks for the meal.”

~~~~~

Yoshi: “This has been so much fun. It’s really a shame that you have to work tonight.”

Neon: “Wish I didn’t.”

Another really meaningful and interesting line about Neon’s kid self (and his subtly telling reaction to it) gets removed and replaced with more fluff. This isn’t even the dub accidentally losing meaningful bits because they’re missing the point; this is clearly them removing these interesting parts on purpose. Why. Neon’s character was one of the most compelling things about the original episode. All they’re doing is deliberately making this episode significantly less good.

Chika:  “Neon is so cool!”

Masaru:  “What part of him?”

~~~~~

Kristy:  “Oh man, that Neon is so cool!”

Marcus: “Yeah, right.”

Marcus sounds so weirdly bitter here, like he really has firmly decided that Neon sucks and doesn’t deserve anyone’s admiration because he’s A Criminal. Why the hell does he care so much? Masaru was just bewildered as to what the big deal about him was in a way that had nothing to do with the suspected Digimon-harbouring.

Chika:  “Obviously, the part where he tries so hard to protect his girlfriend!”

~~~~~

Kristy:  “Do you think I’ll ever date someone who’s as cool and sweet as Neon?”

Kristy also does not specify that she admires Neon for trying to keep his girlfriend out of the limelight, which I appreciated Chika doing.

Kristy: “Just have him make it out to ‘Superfan Kristy the Most Beautiful Girl in the Whole World’.”

Geez. Kristy: still noticeably more of a brat than Chika.

Masaru:  “Look, Chika, you wouldn’t like it if other people were prying about who you like or date, right? It’s the same with Yoshino. That’s to say nothing of the fact that you’re demanding his autograph just because he’s a celebrity…”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Look, you wouldn’t like it if people kept prying into the private details of your life – I mean, if you had any. Well, Yoshi’s the same. Besides, Neon is probably sick of signing autographs for annoying fans.”

Marcus is technically giving the same sort of advice here, but my god, he is being way more of a dick about it than is necessary. The dub is ruining Masaru’s adorable fatherly-advice moment and turning it into a Marcus Is A Jerk™ moment instead and I don’t like it one bit.

Kristy: “You think I’m annoying, Marcus…?”

And so in this version, Kristy is actually pretty within reason to get upset, because her brother was being a dick. (Though she was also being slightly more annoying and bratty about the autograph thing than Chika was in the first place.)

Promotional video: “Hey everybody! Have you heard the new song by pop sensation Neon? Download it today, and tell all your friends, too!”

The dub version of the “promotional video” actually has a voiceover and therefore is vaguely more believable as an actual promotion than just a weird silent two second loop. Fixing another minor plot hole, dub, well done.

The dub completely cuts out the security guard who confronts Masaru at the door, probably because they didn’t want to include the part where Masaru assaults the guy. This is despite the fact that in the original episode, Masaru implicitly gets in trouble for this later when the guy wakes up, and otherwise generally comes across as having acted very rashly and unreasonably for this whole situation. But nah, apparently we can��t have our kids’ show protagonist do a bad thing, not even when the story presents it like it was kind of a bad thing to do.

Marcus: “Open the door, I’m here to protect you!”

Masaru never actually mentioned that he’s here to protect Yoshino, even though the possibility that she was in trouble is most of the reason why he came. Marcus making an explicit point of this is him making things a lot more about himself than Masaru did, like him coming here is mostly him wanting to seem like the Big Hero, rather than him genuinely just being worried about his friend.

Yoshino:  “Masaru! What are you…?”

~~~~~

Yoshi: “Marcus, what are you doing?! You’ll blow it; Neon’s here! Go away!”

Yoshi gets a longer line here – they’re probably filling in time lost from cutting the security guard – but in the process I can’t help but think that Neon should have heard the “you’ll blow it” part, since he shows up at the door just a second later. Which in fact would have been Yoshi blowing it and not Marcus.

Masaru:  “Don’t play dumb! This was all part of your scheme!”

Neon:  “Wh-What are you doing? Who are you?!”

Masaru:  “What are you plotting, using that Digimon?!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Don’t play dumb; I know what you’re up to!”

Neon: “What do you mean? Who are you?!”

Marcus: “Just confess and tell me what you have planned in that mind of yours!”

So, despite Marcus having been significantly more convinced than Masaru ever was that Neon is definitely hiding a Digimon, he’s… not bringing up the Digimon for some reason now that he’s actually confronting Neon, even though Masaru did. What the hell.

The dub cuts the moment of Yoshino slapping Masaru, albeit not very convincingly, since there’s still a shot of him briefly looking like he’s just been slapped, and then a visible mark on his face a shot later.

Yoshino:  “How dare you suddenly intrude into other people’s houses! How about you consider *not* being a nuisance to others for a change!”

~~~~~

Yoshi: “Who do you think you are, barging into somebody’s house just for a measly autograph?! I don’t care how big a fan you are, you better learn some manners, kid!”

I do enjoy Yoshi putting on even more of an act here, trying to make it look like Marcus is some crazed fan desperate for an autograph. Though I’m not sure that angle entirely matches with Marcus’s behaviour of grabbing Neon and demanding that he confesses what he’s up to. Then again, Neon is going to figure out people are onto him from this either way, so I guess it doesn’t matter how convincing Yoshi is or isn’t.

Masaru:  “Hey, wait! I said wait! What was that for?”

Yoshino:  “You’re ruining my undercover investigation.”

~~~~~

Marcus: “What was all that for, Yoshi?”

Yoshi:  “To stop *you* from blowing my cover and all of my hard work.”

I enjoy Yoshi being more pointedly annoyed about this with her emphasis that he’s ruining her hard work. She has a right to be.

Masaru:  “What the hell, I was just worried about her.”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Well, I’m so sorry for trying to save you!”

Marcus! This is not about you! Masaru wasn’t trying to make this about himself; he was just worried about his friend – but Marcus is making this all about him Being The Hero and him being the one to save her.

It’s not that I don’t hypothetically enjoy characters who have issues along those lines, but that should not be the point with Marcus here. The dub isn’t going to go anywhere interesting with this because it wasn’t a thing in the original, so instead this just sticks out as another thing making Marcus more self-absorbed.

The security guard showing up here now is still there in the dub, even though they cut Masaru knocking him out earlier.

Sampson: “Keramon’s making it seem like Neon’s selling more songs than he is.”

[…]

Kudamon: “The more popular people think he is, the more albums they buy.”

They have an interesting point here not brought up in the original, that even if Keramon is only making Neon look more popular by messing with the figures, that’s going to result in actually making him more popular. In the original, it was unclear exactly what kind of manipulation Keramon had been doing (until the obvious stunt last night) and I sort of vaguely got the impression that it’d been actually making people download his songs even if they never wanted to. Then again, that might be obvious enough that people would have reported it, so perhaps things were always meant to be how the dub is explaining them to be here. Good job to the dub again for making that clearer. (…Or so I thought; hold this thought.)

Thomas: “Clearly, Neon’s making a fortune through fraud.”

I don’t especially like the dub adding this, though, because Neon should not be doing this for the money. He’s doing this for the popularity. Admittedly Thomas is only speculating and wouldn’t know better, but him stating it like this makes it seem like this is the correct conclusion to make about Neon’s motives.

Neon:  “To think that you were one of them…”

Yoshino:  “It’s prohibited to give a Digimon refuge!”

~~~~~

Neon:  “I just can’t believe you were a part of this. I trusted you!”

Yoshi: “Yeah, that’s why you told me all about your illegal Digimon!”

I enjoy Yoshi actually somewhat responding to the accusation of betrayal by pointing out that he was hiding something from her as well. Though I also do think Yoshino’s response of completely avoiding the topic says something interesting in and of itself.

Neon:  “Don’t order me around!”

~~~~~

Neon: “Don’t you judge me!”

While the “don’t order me around” perhaps touched on Neon’s past of not being able to do much on his own, “don’t judge me” would also potentially touch on his past of being bullied. However, I can’t help but think that’s more by luck than judgement on the dub’s part, since they went and deliberately removed so many of the other hints of Neon’s past even being like that in the first place.

Neon:  “He distributes my songs around the world and manipulates music charts…”

Wait, so Keramon actually does forcibly distribute the songs even to people who don’t want them, and not just fake the figures so that people will be more likely to check out what the fuss is about?

Yeah, actually, this line is basically exactly what Neon said here originally, so I guess that is what was meant to have been going on after all. Sampson and Kudamon must have missed that part when they were discussing things earlier.

Yoshino:  “Hitoshi, stop this!”

~~~~~

Yoshi: “You have to stop this. Fraud is a criminal offence!”

Though the lack of her being able to call him Hitoshi is a bad thing again, I do appreciate Yoshi pointing out that fraud is a crime. Even aside from DATS’s rules that nobody’s allowed to have a Digimon unless they’re a DATS member, Neon has still been breaking the regular law anyway, and the original didn’t really emphasise that very much.

They cut out the moment of Keramon grabbing Yoshi by the neck, but they do still show her being held like that in a shot a second later.

Neon:  “No way! Keramon is my partner!”

~~~~~

Neon: “Keramon is my partner just like your Digimon! I wouldn’t betray him any more than you’d betray them!”

Dub-Neon is very deliberately making the parallel to DATS’s Digimon rather than only accidentally invoking it by happening to use the same word – but it really isn’t a parallel he should be making deliberately. Keramon is not a person. It hasn’t spoken or expressed its own desires or sense of self at all; it’s just giggled creepily and done as he’s ordered it to. There is no actual meaningful bond of friendship here for Neon to care about not wanting to betray.

I think the dub added this in because the dubbers actually think that it’s basically the same deal going on with Neon and Keramon as with DATS and their partners. But it really, really isn’t.

Neon:  “Thanks to him, my songs are played throughout the world! He’s making me famous!”

~~~~~

Neon:  “He made me rich and famous!”

Famous, yes, but the money is not the point, dub. Neon in the original never mentioned money as being part of why he’s doing this.

Also, the past tense implies that it’s only because of Keramon that Neon became famous at all. Which I really doubt is supposed to be the case, because there’s no sense given at any point that Neon just burst into the public eye out of nowhere within the past month since he’s had Keramon. He must have been already doing reasonably well on his own merit before he started using fraud.

Masaru:  “What’s this crap about him making you famous?! It’s not through your own efforts! If you wanted to change yourself through your music, then do it using your own merit!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “Your whole career is a giant lie! You haven’t actually achieved anything! That Digimon of yours did everything for you; you’re nothing but a phony!”

…But it seems the dub really wants us to think that it’s only because of Keramon that Neon got anywhere at all and he was never genuinely good enough to deserve any amount of success whatsoever. I think the dubbers might have missed the point of this as well and believed that that was actually what was going on in the original episode.

And of course, because of this, we lose the interesting nuanced moment of Masaru being really good and pointing out that Neon should have kept working at this using his own merit. Instead we just get Marcus boringly shooting him down completely.

Yoshino:  “Stop!”

Lalamon:  “Stop!”

~~~~~

Yoshi:  “No pictures!”

Lalamon: “Give me that camera!”

Lalamon demanding the camera further emphasises the point of Yoshi choosing to do this instead of fight, and it gives more of a vague impression that maybe she really does take the camera and wipe the pictures offscreen, even though we won’t be seeing it. I approve.

Neon:  “Everyone needs to quit making fun of me!”

~~~~~

Neon:  “My career’s ruined now, and you’re gonna pay!”

Unsurprisingly, after everything the dub has already removed about Neon’s interesting aspects, they also remove probably the most interesting line – the one that very strongly hints he used to be bullied and that this has all been about him breaking away from that in a way that gradually became more and more desperate and obsessive to the point of illegality.

Instead, dub-Neon is somebody who wanted to be rich and famous just because, apparently had genuinely no actual talent or merit to base that on whatsoever, and just faked his entire success story (which the dub expects us to think he could have believably done within a month) using Digimon-driven fraud. That’s just… boring.

It also makes it significantly less interesting and meaningful why Keramon evolves in response to these words, though I suppose a burst of vengeful anger at them for ruining his fraudulent career is still reasonable enough to do it.

Masaru:  “Change places! Let’s go, Agumon!”

~~~~~

Marcus: “We’ll take ‘im! It’s fightin’ time!”

I am mildly sad at the loss of the sense that Masaru sees this as him tagging in for Tohma and being equal teammates with him, rather than trying to grab all the glory himself.

Neon:  “Even the memory of when we met again?”

~~~~~

Neon: “Even the stuff about you and me?”

In the dub, Neon makes this just about losing what their relationship is now and nothing else. I liked the sense that, after all the fraud had been uncovered and he’d basically given up, original-Neon was mostly sad to lose the memory of seeing her again, his childhood friend who was there for him during that tough time and could be proud of how far he’d come.

Overall differences

This episode has quite a few significant differences, with a lot of them being bad, but at least there’s a small handful of good ones too, for once.

Let’s start with the good ones. This episode’s dub actually has a couple of small fixes to some minor logic issues the original had. They explained that they can’t break into Neon’s building because the high security meant that Neon/Keramon would see them coming and run, which made a lot more sense. Then they gave the promo video a voiceover, making it a lot more believable as a promo video than some weird silent two-second loop.

Yoshi also has a few minor good bits: leaning more into the story that Marcus is a crazed fan when he shows up at the door, pointing out that fraud is a crime. I also appreciate that they attempted to tone down Miki and Megumi’s harshness towards her at least a little.

But onto the bad stuff: the really huge glaring problem with the dub of this episode is Neon. Neon’s character was the big saving grace of this otherwise not especially interesting episode to me in the original, and none of what makes him that way is present in the dub. All of the hints of him being weak and helpless and probably-bullied as a kid are watered down into him simply having been kind of shy, there’s no hints of him remaking his image (no mention that Neon is a stage name; for all we know in the dub, that’s somehow his real name), and way too much emphasis put on him doing this for money, not just fame. If Marcus is to be believed, he had absolutely zero talent and got where he was entirely through Keramon’s meddling, which is extremely unrealistic to have happened in a single month without anyone questioning it and is also way, way less interesting. Dub-Neon is just some boring flat villain greedy for fame and fortune, rather than an interestingly messed-up character.

And it’s really strange to me that this character assassination is so complete and consistent that it must have been deliberate? The dub writers consciously decided to remove everything that made this episode’s focus character interesting. Why in the world would they choose to do that.

Then there’s this episode’s treatment of Marcus, which is standard fare at this point but still frustrating enough that I am always going to talk about it when it happens in any significant amount.

He’s more insistent that Neon’s harbouring a Digimon from the start despite the lack of proof, but then, bizarrely, doesn’t bring up Digimon when he breaks in even though Masaru did. He makes the breaking-in part a lot more About Himself by making a point that he’s here to save Yoshi, which is a very different thing than Masaru coming there in case Yoshino needed saving but not actually caring whether she knows it or not. Marcus is also more of an unnecessary dick to his sister in the bit where she’s asking him for Neon’s autograph. And the interesting nuance that Masaru had in his speech to Neon, about putting in effort and changing yourself through your own merits, is lost in favour of this new boring narrative where Neon apparently had zero talent and deserved none of his fame in the first place.

Oh, and the bit where Masaru attacked the security guard was cut, because I guess your kids’ show protagonist isn’t allowed to attack a responsible adult, even when the narrative presents this as a bad thing that he shouldn’t have done and implicitly gets in trouble for.

[bleachanimefan1]

Oblitus Part 35

Brother My Brother

28 Days Left Until Extermination...

Michael was now sitting on the couch in the lobby. He had finished eating his sixth sandwich that Anna had made for him.

"Can I have some more?" he asked. Anna laughed.

"You know, there are other kinds of food besides sandwiches."

"Maybe later then?" Michael suggested.

"Maybe," Anna smiled. "So, how did you make my parents have me when they couldn't?"

"Your parents are still your parents. I just helped give them a little nudge," Michael explained. "I gave them a blessing and here you are!"

"So, is that an angel thing? To give blessings?" Alastor snickered as he leaned against the couch beside Anna.

"I wouldn't be laughing if I were you," Michael smirked. "If I recall, your mother had the same problem as well." Alastor immediately froze. Michael continued, thinking. "Judging from your expression, I've must have hit something. What was her name? Oh, it was Rose Hazbin! So, unfortunate how she died. That would make you her son, correct? Your real name is Alastor Hazbin! You're the serial killer in Louisiana, that was killed in the 1930's due to an unfortunate dog accident!"

Anna's eyes widen as she looked at Alastor. She knew that Alastor really did not liked to talk about his past. Michael was crossing very thin lines at this moment. But, she couldn't help but find it strange that Michael only mentioned Al's mother and not his father. Was he not in heaven with Alastor's mom?

Alastor's eyes began to glow a deep shade of red as he stared at the angel with a strained smile on his face. How dare this charlatan talk about his mother?! He growled, clenching his fist tightly that his nails drew blood as he did. Anna grew tense when noticed a look in Alastor's eyes. She knew that look anywhere. He looked like he wanted to rip the angel sitting beside her in half.

"So, how long does the blessing take for the hotel?" Anna interrupted, sliding in front of Alastor, blocking himself from Michael.

"It'll take a couple of days," Michael replied.

Suddenly, the group heard the front door close. They turned their head to see Charlie walking in, along with her father. As the two of them approached, Lucifer froze when he saw Michael sitting on the couch. Michael gasped as he saw him.

"Luci!" the angel got up from the couch and made a beeline over to him, to hug him. Lucifer stepped to the side and stuck his cane out, tripping the angel instead, making him fall on the floor face first.

"When my daughter said that she had an interesting guest," Lucifer said. "I didn't think she was talking about you. What are you doing here?"

"I suppose, Charlie, told you what happen, right?" Michael groaned, as he sat up from the floor. "It seems our other brother has gotten the wrong idea and thinks that your secretly raising an army to overthrow dad." he explained.

"So, when are you gonna leave?" Lucifer growled.

"I can't on the account of my damaged wing," Michael replied. "Once, it is healed and I give my blessing to the hotel-"

"No, you're not!" Lucifer spatted out, angrily, as michael stared at him with wide eyes in shock. "I don't want any of that shit around my daughter!" Michael cringed as Lucifer continued to curse at him.

"Dad!" Charlie stepped in. "He's trying to help with my hotel program. Why can't you accept that?"

"Oh really? Then where was his help when your grandfather cast me and the others out? Where was he when your grandfather left me and your mother stranded in exile? Hmm?!" Anna and Alastor, who had an amused look on his face, watched as the two went back and forth with each other, arguing.

"Luci, I know anything that I say won't change the past. But, you have to let it go," Michael replied, calmly. Then he looked at him, defiantly. "But, you have to live with your actions. It was you who chose to upset father! It was you who decided to rebel against him! You have no one to blame but yourself!" The next thing, Lucifer slammed Michael against the wall, by his hand on his throat.

"Dad!" Charlie shouted.

"If it wasn't for my daughter standing here right now, I would kill you," Lucifer growled. Then he released Michael from his grip and he fell to floor, coughing as he rubbed his throat. "But, I also don't want to start a war, not with my family is in danger. So, go ahead put up your silly little protection spell. But, stay away from, Charlotte." Lucifer's eyes glowed bright red, angrily as he stared down at Michael. "Do we have an understanding?"

"You're as crazy as ever!" Michael shouted. Lucifer ignored his brother's outburst and turned to everyone else who was in the room, who had come running in to see what the yelling and shouting was about.

"I also have another announcement to make," Lucifer said. "To celebrate my daughter's hotel program, for redeeming half of the clients, we shall have a party! What do you have to say about that?"

Anna stared at the king with an puzzled look. He yells at his brother then decided next that he wants to throw a party? This guy is a loony tune. However, Alastor noticed that there was an suspicious look in Lucifer's eyes for a second as he looked at him then glanced over towards Anna.

Just what was he up to?

It was later on that evening, that the party was held inside of the hotel. Everyone was gathered inside of a large ballroom completely dapper and dressed up. Some demons and clients were dancing and chatting with each other. Niffty and Baxter were dancing with each other. Charlie was talking to her mom, while Angel was wearing an non revealing chest dress for once, to everyone's surprise. He had claimed that he wanted to wear something different for once, but Husk noticed that there was something going on that Angel wasn't telling everybody. But, decided to drop it for now.

Anna wearing the same dress that she wore to sponsor Niffty. She was resting after finishing her last dance with Alastor and was now talking to Michael.

While everyone else was doing their own thing, Alastor was leaning against the wall, looking around the room, watching. Waiting for something to happen. Lucifer decided to approach him as he stood next to him.

"I don't know what you're planning, but-" Lucifer laughed.

"But, nothing Alastor," he smiled, wickedly. "My plan's already in motion."

Alastor's eyes widen when he noticed that Lucifer's pet snake, that was on his hat, was missing.

Where's the snake?!

He saw Lucifer smirk and turned his head in his direction to where he was looking at. Alastor felt everything froze around him as he saw the purple snake, slithering it's way over to where Anna was standing. It opened it's jaws and bit into Anna's ankle. It slithered away as Anna fell backwards collapsing onto the floor. The whole room went silent as everyone gathered around her some screaming while some yelling wondering what had happen. Alastor ran over to her, leaving Lucifer behind who had an evil smirk on his face, as no one noticed it.

"Take her to the infirmary!" Charlie ordered.

A few minutes later, Anna was lying on a bed as everyone gathered around, to hear some kind of news that she would be okay. Baxter was examining her and checking her pulse.

"Is she going to be okay?" Niffty asked, worried.

"Her pulse is weakening and her heart rate is slowing down," Baxter explained. "And her skin feels cold like death."

"But, she's going to be okay, right?" Vaggie asked. "Can't you come up with something to wake her up?"

"I can't if I don't know what caused her to collapse in the first place!" Baxter shouted, frustrated.

"Well, you better think of something quick, Look!" Angel pointed out. Everyone looked back at Anna to see that her skin was turning more sickly, becoming more and more pale to the point it was almost turning to a lighter shade of grey.

"Shit!" Baxter cursed.

"I'll figure out something to slow the process," he told them, walking out of the room to grab more medical supplies. "In the mean time, find out what happened before the accident."

Charlie nodded and everyone left, while Alastor and Lucifer stayed behind. Alastor glared at the fallen angel standing beside him, as they did. Just as the door shut, Alastor pinned Lucifer against the wall.

"What have you done?!" he demanded. Lucifer smiled.

"I've done nothing. That was all you, my dear boy." He smirked evilly. "I just gave a little nudge to speed up the process."

"I swear, if she dies, I'm going to disembowel you!" Alastor threatened. "What do you want?"

"Stop, hotel's program, like we've agreed to. No more of this silly redemption nonsense." Lucifer explained. "In return, I'll give you this-" he pulled out an small apple shaped vial with some yellow colored liquid inside of it. "I'll give you the cure to save her. Do we have a deal, radio demon?"

"And what if Charlie finds out that it's you, or your wife!?" Alastor argued. "And when they do, how do you think they're going to take it? Knowing that you betrayed them, by going behind their backs!"

"They're not going to find out. Because if they do, then I'll just destroy the only thing that can save that woman, lying on her death bed, right now."

"Clock's ticking, Alastor," Lucifer laughed.